FIC: Tyger, Tyger, Burning Bright
Title: Tyger, Tyger, Burning Bright
Characters: Kevin, Mina, Noel (AU)
A/N: I got a lovely postcard the other day, and then the squeeing knew no bounds! You wonderful people, you! Here, have some poetry smut. Also, borrowing characters from all over the place. And borrowing titles from Blake. And taking advantage of Elvis and his masculinity.
Rating: R to NC-17. And for once not because I kill off someone or make everyone sad, but because one of the serious research questions for this fic included: “When men have hard-ons and they run, it slows them down, right?”
Prompt: Also submitted to sm_monthly . Wonderful prompts over there.
First Fig (Edna St. Vincent Millay)
My candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends,
It gives a lovely light.
***
They should have still had a week or two before the bloody monsoons began. But luck was not on their side, not even a little. With no footage shot, not even a single tiger in sight, and tons of rain pounding on their heads with the force of a thousand fucking falling coconuts, Noel and Kevin had to push their jeep into the next village because of course, the vehicle had broken down two kilometres short of their destination. By the time they got there, they were soaking wet, and Noel was cursing so loudly and with so much colour that Kevin seriously contemplated drowning his sorry ass in one of the swiftly forming puddles. This was saying something, since Kevin, according to everyone single person on this planet and their mothers, was patience incarnate.
“Shut up and push,” he growled through gritted teeth, hiking boots digging into the muddy ground and his upper body pressing against the back of the car with all of his weight. The car, predictably, didn’t move an inch. Instead, the rain ran down the back of his shirt, pooling just over his belt.
Noel, whom everybody and their mothers, his own in particular, knew to be the least patient person in the world, kicked against the car with all his six foot five might, splattering mud over Kevin and himself. “Fuck this fucking piece of fucking shit and let’s find a fucking bar.”
Opening his mouth to tell him off, Kevin did what Kevin was so good at: thinking before speaking. What was the point of shoving the car into the village when it was too rainy for any thief to drive it away through the mud anyway? Straightening up, he nodded. “You’re buying.” And, grabbing their equipment, he started ahead, heading towards drier ground, leaving a dumbfounded Noel behind.
***
The bar was tiny, and dirty, and rain was leaking through several tennis ball sized holes in the corrugated iron roof. Also, it was empty. Made sense, Kevin thought, nobody in their right mind would be in a smelly, leaky bar located at the edge of the village in this weather when they could just as well drink at home and stay dry.
Home, he thought with sudden longing. Air conditioning. Warm water. No mosquitoes. Good scotch. Above all, no Noel.
Noel, who loved bars in general, and dingy hellholes of bars in particular, was already back to being all smiles. The man’s temper was more changeable than the weather, Kevin thought and once again wondered why on earth he had let their producer convince him to travel to Sumatra with Noel of all people. Noel, who was one of the best cameraman in the business, but also one of the most annoying people in the world. When stuck in the jungle for weeks upon weeks searching for tigers, this was not an ideal combination. Presently, the wet man reached over the counter, grabbed a dirty dish towel and began to dry himself off with it.
“That’s highly unsanitary,” Kevin contributed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. There were no menues to be seen, which was good, because he had no means of drying his glasses enough so that he could actually use them. He also wasn’t sure if eating something in a place where mice were practically dancing tango in the corners was such a good idea. Alcohol was at least somewhat sterile.
“You’re unsanitary,” Noel shot back, rolled his eyes, and began to pound on the counter to draw the service personnel from the backroom, where the sound and flickering light indicated someone’s presence behind the beaded curtain. “HELLO, people, two honest men need some stiff DRINKS!” He banged his fist on the counter some more, and the TV was turned off. Kevin thought he heard someone groan. A very reasonable reaction to Noel, he conceded, and decided to give the waiter a generous tip. He pulled a bar stool close and sat down. Seconds later, a woman stepped out from the behind the beaded curtain. Kevin’s eyes widened. She was blonde, curvy, dressed in the tiniest of all denim cut-offs, and some hideously orange, but outrageously tight shirt. No bra, a part other than his brain added, and for once, he and Noel were on the same page. The latter whistled.
“Hello there,” Noel said, and stared at her breasts.
She didn’t smile, and simply walked behind the counter. “Odd weather and hour for a casual drink,” she said questioningly, turning her attention to Kevin. “Our car broke down,” he offered, trying to look anywhere but at her chest, and in reward, she nodded, and gave him a little smile. “We’re documentary filmmakers,” Noel immediately added, leaning himself on the counter, and tilting his head a little bit to the right. Not only was this his signature move, it was also damn effective, as Kevin had been forced to observe time and time again. This bloody tilt of the head with than damnable wink transcended all language barriers, and had more than once been the cause of him having to sleep in the car, while Noel and the beauty of the hour busied themselves in the tent or hotel room. The car was uncomfortable as hell. So was the growing tightness of his pants, brought on by the waitress and her skimpy, skimpy clothing.
She placed a drink in front of Kevin, and eyed Noel with suspicion. “What are you doing with my dish towel?” Noel glanced down, abs clearly visible under his wet shirt, dish towel still in his hand. “I was wet,” he stated, and Kevin could tell that his colleague was thinking at least ten dirty things at once. And yes, there was that wink. Instead of swooning over the counter, the waitress however wrinkled her nose. “Eww. I had used it mop the floor.” Noel dropped the towel immediately.
Kevin laughed. Maybe his luck was turning after all.
Taking a sip of his drink, he almost spit it back into the glass the second it came into touch with his palate. “What on earth is this?”
She diverted her attention from Noel, who was staring at the dirty dish towel as if it had grown legs, and fastened her eyes on him instead. He noticed that they were very blue, and rather lovely. Then he mentally counted how long it had been since he had touched a woman, and decided that a) it had been too long b) she was too pretty for Noel anyway and c) him being able to pull her would probably be diminished significantly if he asked for a weaker drink because Noel sure as hell wouldn’t. She took the glass from his hand, examined it and grinned. “No idea, I got in a trade for some Julia Roberts DVDs.” He nodded, and took the glass back. Hesitating only a little, he lifted it in a mock salute before downing its content in one go. Scrunching up his face, he fought to keep the liquid down, earning another smile from the blonde vision in front of him.
“Yeah, guess who’d like a drink too,” Noel muttered from Kevin’s left and the waitress laughed and plunked the labelless bottle on the counter.
***
“So what is a pretty lady like you doing in a place like this?” Noel asked two and a half drinks later. The waitress, who had yet to share her name, had already broken the golden rule of all bartenders, and drank with them. Kevin had the sneaking suspicion that she was able to hold her liquor much better than he was. “Oh, I was travelling, you know, and then I came here, and the bar was run by this guy, a journalist from the States, and I stayed for a bit, and then he left, and I took over and here we are.” She shrugged, and Noel’s compliment was either completely lost on her, or she just didn’t care. Kevin hoped it was the latter.
“And you’re here to shoot a documentary?” Her voice did not hold any genuine interest yet, she was making conversation, and Kevin realised that he really wanted her to be impressed with his work. Or him. Unsure of what to say that would have the desired effect, he nodded, remained silent and held her gaze. Did her eyes get bluer or was that just a trick of the light? Before he could solve this question, she squinted, spotting something, and then leaned over the counter, and pulled his glasses from the breast pocket of his (formerly) white button-down shirt. The insane level of humidity kept it wet and clinging to his broad frame. When her fingers brushed against his shirt, goosebumps rose on his arms. It had been a really long time, he thought to himself, and gave her a half smile as she pulled a clean dish towel from under the bar and began to polish his glasses, eyes never leaving him. Finally, she held the glasses up, and, satisfied with her work, put them on his nose. “Looks good,” she mumbled, and bit her lower lip. His heart began to beat a little faster and now that his vision was sharper, he found even more loveliness to look at. What a woman.
“We’re doing a film on tigers,” Noel supplied, and helped himself to another drink. Kevin very much wished that a tiger would come and eat Noel right about now so that he could have alone time with the waitress. “Very dangerous, tigers,” Noel continued, oblivious to his cockblocking effect. “But don’t you worry, I take good care of Kev and me.” Disbelieving, Kevin turned to Noel. “You are taking care of us? You got the car stuck in the mud, and you lost half of our provisions when you jumped off that waterfall.”
“You jumped off a waterfall?” the waitress asked, giving Noel a look Kevin couldn’t quite place. “The only waterfall in the area is thirty feet high!” Noel tilted his head. Again. “Didn’t look that high from all the way up,” he said, and winked. Again. And then the other shoe dropped, and Kevin uttered a low curse. The look on the girl’s face was admiration, and that meant he was truly and utterly fucked, and not in the good way.
***
The rain was still pounding on the thin roof, and the puddles around them grew more sizable. He hadn’t really noticed them before when the waitress was still looking at him with those eyes and he basically had her admirable chest right in front in him, but now that she and Noel were excitedly talking about waterfalls and bungee jumping and sky diving and what not, Kevin frowned. “You should put some bowls under the holes” he stated, voice sour, and the waitress’s pretty face darkened a little as she turned back to him. “This is my bar, and I don’t like people telling me what to do in my bar.” Noel preened, stretching himself to his considerable height. The bastard was just doing to to show off his stomach. “Yeah, Kevin, relax. The miss knows what she’s doing.”
“You can call me Mina,” she said with a sugary sweet smile, and topped up Noel’s glass, her own glass, and then simply pushed the bottle over to Kevin without looking at him. Well, fine. While the two of them toasted to A.J. Hackett and his bloody bungee rope, Kevin filled up his glass, knocked it back, and closed his eyes as the alcohol burned down his throat. Not the only thing that burned: he would have loved to spent some more time with Mina. Trust Noel to fuck it up for him. No tigers, a broken car, and now no girl. Great, just great.
“Well, I’ll be heading to the car,” he said, and got up. The floor shook, but just a little, and he was glad that he didn’t need to hold on to the counter to steady himself. Noel said: “Okay, see you tomorrow.” Mina, no longer behind the counter, but long since beside Noel, gave him a questioning look. It would have been adorable, had Noel’s arm not been around her waist, Kevin thought with apprehension. “Why are you going to the car?”
“Because it’s late, and I need to sleep,” he said. “Noel, the camera equipment stays with you, don’t lose it.” Inclining his head to Mina, he started for the door, trying to step around the puddles as he did so. “That is ridiculous,” Mina exclaimed, and extricated herself from Noel’s arm and instead reached for Kevin’s hand to stop him.
“Nobody is sleeping in a car. Both of you are staying with me.” Kevin looked into her eyes, and then at Noel. Sleeping in the car: annoying. Hearing her sleep with Noel: unbearable. “Thank you, but I’m good.” Noel leaned back and looked at them over his shoulder. “Yeah, he’s good. Don’t worry. Sleep tight, Kevin.” Mina shook her head, insistent, stubborn, and very, very cute. “No way, come on. Let me lock up here, and then we can all go to my place.” She let go of his hand and pushed her own in her pockets, straining the fabric a decisive inch or two downwards to reveal a smooth expanse of tanned skin and a tiny hint of a tattoo. It was Kevin’s undoing. “Okay.”
***
Camera equipment locked securely in the bar (or as securely as two padlocks can possibly be), the three of them stepped into the rain. Instead of immediately setting into a sprint, Mina was motionless for a minute, letting the rain wash over her, plastering her hair to her face, her bare arms, her back. She closed her eyes to the night, and there was something utterly peaceful about her standing there, arms outstretched. Kevin looked at her face, and wished he could take a picture of her. She was just as beautiful as the nature he had come to capture on film. He broke his gaze from her face and looked at Noel, who, predictably, was staring holes into her hideous orange t-shirt, wet and clingy on her slender frame, stretching over her breasts and her hardened nipples. Imagining her naked was not a far stretch. If she felt his gaze, and Kevin’s (because despite being raised better than that, he felt himself unable to look away), she neither showed it nor seemed to mind.
After what felt like both too short and too long a moment, she lowered her arms and opened her eyes. “Well, follow my lead.” And with that, she started into the rain, leaving two men and their considerable hard-ons behind.
***
Her house, or hut, rather, was the opposite end of the village. They didn’t meet a soul on their way there, which was to be expected, really. If his watch was still working, it was ten past two on a Wednesday night in October, monsoon season, dark, muddy, and horribly humid. Kevin sincerely hoped that she had a ceiling fan (scrap that, any fan) behind the door she was now trying to unlock with clumsy fingers. Noel breathing down her neck might have also not helped, so Kevin pulled the other man back, making him stand a foot away. Noel rolled his eyes, but said nothing and finally, the key turned, and Mina pushed the door open.
It was clear that she had not decorated anything in here, mainly because there was no decoration to speak of. There were two stacks of newspapers in the corner beside the double-bed, an overturned orange crate that served as a nightstand with a few candles on it, two chairs, no table, no TV, no fan, no bookshelves (but a few books on the narrow windowsill), a tiny fridge, and most importantly, Kevin noted, no couch. No couch. One double bed. No couch. Well, damn it, he was not going to be the idiot sleeping on the floor. Or at least he was not going to be the only one.
Mina walked in, kicking off her sandals. She opened the fridge and took out three beers, offering one to each man. Noel took his and made a move towards the bed, but Mina shook her head.
“Oh no, not before you’ve had a shower. I don’t want mud on my last set of halfway clean sheets during monsoon season. Washing and drying them inside is a royal pain in the arse.” Kevin, glad to shine, sat down on one of the chairs. The beer tasted much better than whatever it was they had drunk at the bar, and now that Noel was no longer wrapped around Mina, his mood brightened again. He took a sip of his beer, and then put it on the windowsill, wedging it between some historical romance and a book on baseball. He would bet half his savings that one of them wasn’t hers. He picked the baseball book and flicked it open, but his glasses, covered in rain drops and flecks of mud, hindered more than helped the process.
“Do you have something I can clean my glasses with?” Mina moved over to the chest of drawers next to the door, the only item of furniture he could not see immediately upon arrival. Above it, dangling from a little hook, was a travel backpack, large, empty, and dirty green. Mina rummaged around in a drawer before producing a blue men’s t-shirt.
“Here, you can also wear it for sleeping, if your want to.” She didn’t state the obvious: both he and Noel were smelly, and had probably slept in their clothes for more than one night already. Maybe she was being polite, maybe she was subtly being rude, it was hard to tell. Kevin, still slightly drunk and certainly very tired, didn’t mind either, and accepted the shirt.
“I don’t need one,” Noel interrupted, and took off his jacket and shirt in one fluid motion, dropping both on the floor. Mina bit down on her bottom lip again, but she seemed amused rather than ready to fling herself at the half-naked man. “Okay, yeah, sure,” she said, and then pointed to a narrow door by the fridge. “The bathroom is through there, help yourself to some towels, and just toss the dirty ones on the floor.” Noel strutted (strutted, Kevin thought with exasperation) towards the bathroom, more confident than a man who hadn’t properly washed himself in three days had any right to be.
“Oi, shoes off first,” Mina scolded. Noel turned around, almost looking chastised, and sat down on the other chair. There was no way to kick hiking boots off, he had to unlace them. So much for swaggering, Kevin thought and put the book back on the shelf. Once Noel had completed his arduous and swagger-killing task, he revealed some very smelly purple socks.
“One day, I will burn them for you,” Kevin said. Those socks were possibly worse than their owner, partly because they were washed in even longer intervals, and also, of a rather offensive colour. Noel mumbled something, took them off, and made a a big show of taking both the boots and the socks outside, leaving them on the tiny porch, where they would be safe from the rain and Mina would be safe from their stench. He then grabbed his toiletry kit, which Kevin knew to include a toothbrush, rolled-up fresh underwear, a bar of soap and a thick comb. He knew because he had an identical kit: they’d been farewell presents by their producer. He was glad for it now because it meant that his already small chances of attracting more of Mina’s attention would not be diminished by him wearing manky underwear. Unfortunately, the same went for Noel.
Thankfully, Noel closed the bathroom door behind him. Kevin had halfway expected him to leave the door open to give Mina a good pre-show of his behind. You could call that another of Noel’s signature moves, and like the head tilting and winking, it was also damn effective.
But instead of watching the closing bathroom door, Mina looked out of the window, staring right over Kevin’s head. “I don’t think I’ll stay another monsoon season. With so much rain, there’s nothing to do. Bar is empty most of the time.”
“We’ll be heading back too.”
“Did you get the footage you needed?”
Kevin shook his head. “There are so few tigers around, and to be honest, they are a lot smarter than Noel and me, so the few that there were probably walked circles around us.”
The good thing was that they had shot lots and lots of footage about Sumatran orangutans. Not the almost extinct species they had come for, but the pictures were great and the producers would love them. Get in a good narrator, and they had all they needed.
“You don’t seem to mind too much,” Mina observed, and looked down to meet his eyes. Rolling the bottle in his hands, Kevin returned her gaze. “Some things you just have to accept as they are.”
“I don’t know, I’d probably still be out there, waiting for the tigers, slowly drowning in the mud.” She didn’t smile when she said it, and Kevin wondered, and not for the first time, what had brought a woman like her to a hundred people village right at the edge of the jungle. But something told him that if he would ask, she wouldn’t give him a straight answer. It had taken her two drinks to offer her name, and even then, it had only been to express her disdain at his criticism. She was very stubborn. Very stubborn, and tantalisingly close. If he reached out his hand now, he could touch her stomach, pull those cut-offs down a little further to get a good look at that tattoo he had seen earlier.They stared at each other, and outside, the rain fell. Eventually, she reached over and touched the collar of his shirt. “Who wears a white shirt on an expedition into the jungle,” she whispered, and he held very still.
“I told him it was stupid,” Noel’s voice interrupted, and he stepped out of the bathroom clad in only his underwear. His very tight underwear. Why couldn’t Noel be fat and wobbly like all other cameramen? Mina gave him an appreciate once-over and a little half-smile, and then took the beer from Kevin’s hand. “Your turn now.” Grabbing his toiletry kit, Kevin made his way to the bathroom, vowing to take the swiftest, but most effective shower possible. He would have loved a long, hot shower after weeks of sparse personal hygiene, but he didn’t dare to stay away too long. Five minutes or under. He hoped she could resist Noel and his bloody muscles for that long.
***
When he returned, dressed in the blue shirt and his underwear, everything else folded in a neat, but smelly pile, he found Noel already in bed. The man had draped himself all over the covers, and looked like a fucking underwear model. Kevin himself felt more than a little uncomfortable, standing in front of this gorgeous woman wearing either nowhere near enough or way too much, depending on the point-of-view, but Noel didn’t share his worry and seemed perfectly at ease.
Mina smiled, first at Noel, then at Kevin, and raised her chin in a commanding motion. “Noel, scoot over.” The brunette didn’t need telling twice: he was at the wall-side of the bed before Kevin could say “leacherous git”, slipping under the covers with a gleeful look. Instead of taking of her pants, Mina then turned to Kevin. “You can go in next, I’ll take a shower first.” Noel’s face fell, and Kevin chuckled. Climbing into the bed beside Noel, which was not as odd as it had been before they had slept in a tent together for three weeks, he was glad that Mina would be sleeping next to him, and not in the middle, and not beside Noel. Noel threw him a dirty look, just as Mina closed the bathroom door behind her.
“Don’t get your hopes up,” he muttered sourly, and kicked Kevin under the covers.
Where his own shower had been short and to the point, Mina took her time. There was probably not enough hot water left, and when Kevin imagined her under a spray of icy drops, a very significant part of his anatomy was resuscitated. He shifted a bit, and turned his back to Noel.
“I wish you were back in the damn truck,” Noel grumbled.
“Likewise,” Kevin said, and took stock of the moment: with Noel, there wouldn’t be anything happening tonight, that was for sure. But if he himself were not here, he had not doubt that Noel would have hooked Mina by drink three.
Charming bugger.
Now they were both at a loss, and a big one at that. Mina wasn’t merely pretty. She was beautiful. And without a doubt happy to meet some people from back home. Perhaps she could fly out with them, Kevin thought. She had said that she didn’t want to stick around here until spring, and if they were back home, he could ask her on a date, and Noel wouldn’t be around to interfere. It was a good plan. If she decided to return with them.
Details, Kevin thought, minor details.
A free flight, and she had next to nothing to pack up anyway. It didn’t seem entirely unreasonable to get his hopes up and he resolved to ask her come with them in the morning.
***
Mina announced her return by flicking the lights off. Kevin could hear her soft footfalls approaching the bed, and obligingly lifted the thin covers so that she could slip in. “Thank you,” she whispered, and climbed into the bed beside him. Kevin turned onto his back, and the three of them lay there like sardines in a can, arms pressed against each other.
“I should warn you,” Kevin whispered to Mina, “Noel snores.” She giggled, and Noel kicked him again to show his displeasure. “Well, Kevin farts in his sleep, so you can pick your poison.” Kevin, turning beet-red, looked at Mina, whose eyes were full of mirth. “That is a vicious lie.” Noel laughed, loud and barking, and Mina chimed in too. Resentment bubbled up in Kevin, but then Mina’s hand snuck her way into his own, and she gave it a brief, hard squeeze before letting go.
***
Eyes wide open, Kevin stared at the ceiling in the dark, conscious of Mina to his left, and even more conscious of the large lump of dead weight to his right. Noel had fallen asleep within seconds once he had realised he definitely wasn’t getting any what with Kevin in the middle. Mina too was asleep, curled to her side, her back pressed against Kevin. There was enough skin to skin contact for him to tell that she had also decided to sleep in underwear and some sort of cropped shirt. He longed to reach over and wrap his arms around her tiny, bare waist, and he might have, had Noel not been there. Had Noel not touched her first, back in the bar.
This rivalry between them wasn’t new. Mainly because Noel had difficulties taking orders, and because Kevin so loved to give them. They were constantly at a war of wills, and when shoved into the wilderness together, it was all about who was stronger, faster, smarter. Kevin knew that it was childish, but he couldn’t help it.
And then, hours ago, they had met Mina. Mina, who had touched him twice, first to put his glasses onto his face, and then to reach for his shirt. Mina, whom Noel had so casually embraced, never bothering to check for permission. Mina, who was now turning around and looked him right in the eyes in this dark room in the middle of the night. Her gaze was so intense, it made him shiver.
“Can’t sleep?” she whispered. His throat went dry. She was so close; he breathed in the smell of her mint toothpaste and honey shower gel. After being forced to endure the stench of Noel and his socks for weeks, Mina smelled like heaven. Actually, he was pretty sure that he would love her smell no matter where and with whom he was.
“Not really,” he finally answered, and she gave him a little quizzical look. There was a second, brief and fleeting, when she looked insecure, for the first time this evening. It was then that Kevin knew he was in trouble once the night was over and he had to leave her behind because he wasn’t sure he could. He wanted her around, and not only for a night. Then the look was gone, and her face was brave and beautiful again. “Well, a little cuddle always puts me to sleep.”
His heart sped up then, beating so fast and strong that surely, she must be able to hear it.
“Noel is too hairy for my taste,” Kevin said, voice hoarse. She chuckled at the clumsy joke and nudged his arm upwards, smoothly moving so that her head was resting on his shoulder, and her hand on his shirt-clad chest. “Your heartbeat,” she murmured after a while, voice low, but unsurprised, and then, with complete self-assuredness, slipped her hand under his shirt. She was motionless for only a moment before she began to draw little circles on his skin. He could feel her nails, blunt and short, but just long enough so that he could imagine her raking them over his back.
Beside them, Noel stirred, and kicked, and turned. “I don’t know whether you noticed, but there’s another man here,” Kevin said, aiming for humour, but sounding almost desperate instead. Mina moved her long legs, and hooked her ankle around his. “I don’t know whether you’ve noticed, but I don’t really care,” she whispered against his ear, and then placed a feathery kiss below his chin.
He couldn’t do this. Not here with Noel next to them. Kevin forced himself to count to ten and to remain motionless. Maybe they could go outside, maybe back to the bar, maybe - no. This was insane. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, - Mina leaned in again, and this time, Kevin turned to meet her halfway. Fuck Noel.
The kiss was slow, but there was nothing chaste about it. He had wanted her the second he laid eyes on her, and now that she was pushing herself against him, so willing, so soft, and so smooth, there was no holding back. He reached for her waist and pulled her towards him, never breaking the kiss. Mina, smiling against his mouth, did him one better, and shifted so that she was half on top of him. The bed creaked, but neither of them cared.
A small part of him was wondering why me, why not Noel, when they had seemed to get along so well back in the bar and he had been the odd one out. Luckily, the overwhelming part of his heart, brain, and dick just didn’t care. As the kiss deepened, Mina rubbed herself against him, and Kevin uttered a guttural moan. Fuck. If they woke Noel, she would stop. He did not want her to stop. He very much did not want her to stop. Making most of the moment, he let his hands travel down her back until he reached her arse, barely covered by what could only be described as seriously skimpy underwear. Underwear that was hiding that tantalising tattoo... Gripping each cheek with one hand, he brought her flush against him, pressing himself against her while exploring her hot mouth with his tongue. This time, it was Mina who moaned into the kiss. He could hear it, it seemed to boom in his ears, louder than the rain, and louder than his heartbeat. Before the night was out, he would hear her moan his name, that he had to make sure of.
The bed creaked again, and Mina tugged at his shirt. He obliged and took it off, no easy feat with her still draped across him, but he managed somehow. The shirt landed at the foot of the bed, and Mina lowered her golden head to suck on his nipples without further ado. Kevin bit down on his lip, and let his hands roam over her back again. Hands slipping underneath her shirt, he moved them from her back to her sides, teasing the outline of her breasts. Mina responded by gently biting down on the bud in her mouth, and instantly, Keivn was torn between wanting to pull her up to kiss her again or to push her talented mouth further down where he his cock was straining against his briefs.
Instead, he reached for the thin fabric of her shirt. Something about this woman made his famous patience take flight like a bird in a storm. “You can take it off, or I can rip it off.” She pushed herself to her knees, straddling him, and with a dark smile, pulled the shirt over her head. Her breasts bounced free, a small trail of sweat running down the valley between them. Not over-thinking it, Kevin sat up too, arms wrapped around her, and licked it away.
They were all out in the open now, illuminated by the dim light of the moon shining through the window. The hairs on his neck stood up, and Kevin looked to the right. Noel was awake, watching them. His brown eyes seemed black in the dark. “Hello Noel,” Mina whispered, and it was only then that Kevin realised that maybe, they wouldn’t stop just because Noel was awake now.
Maybe, they were just about to begin.
***
When morning came, Kevin awoke to the sound of a softly closed door. Beside him, Noel stirred, a lazy grin on his face. “What a night,” he murmured, eyes still closed. Kevin felt like nodding, but didn’t. Noel’s face was not the one he wanted to see. “Where’s Mina?”
Noel opened his eyes, and looked around, while Kevin reached for his glasses and put them on. The hut was empty except for the both of them. Three pairs of underpants decorated the floor, while the blue shirt he had gone to sleep in was at the foot of the bed where he had flung it last night. Mina’s cropped top (and the woman herself) was nowhere to be seen.
Kevin and Noel sat in silence for a moment, exchanging a quiet look, before Kevin slid out of the bed, picked up his clothes and disappeared in the small bathroom. The mirror was all fogged up, so Mina must have taken a shower not too long ago. Following her example, Kevin stepped into the small shower stall and turned the water on. The first jet was ice cold, but then it warmed up, until finally, pleasantly warm water was raining down on him.
His mind flashed back to the night before, to Mina’s slender form in his arms, the intent look in her eyes as he entered her, her gasp when she came. She hadn’t said his name, he realised, she hadn’t said anything at all. She had only spoken through her body, both to him and later to Noel, telling them tales of pleasure and lust and need and in a moment or two, love. But in the wee hours of morning, shortly before they all fell asleep, she had kissed him again, and Kevin allowed himself to believe that that kiss’ meaning was something only he had been privy too.
The door was opened, and Noel stuck his head in. “Dude, I think she’s gone.” Kevin turned the water to cold. He’d expected as much.
***
There was no note, but the chest of drawers was emptied, and both the backpack and the book on baseball were gone. When they made their way to the bar, they found the key taped to the door. They retrieved their gear, and Noel kept glancing over his shoulder as if he expected her to walk in any minute now.
Kevin shook his head. For all their bonding last night, Noel understood very little of how Mina ticked. “Noel, she’s gone, you can stop looking.”
Noel lifted the camera case into the trunk, and then turned to stare at the village behind them. “Yeah, but why?” Kevin shrugged. There were many answers. Because she was a woman on the run, even though he didn’t know what it was she was running from. Because maybe, there’d been something there last night, just between the two of them, before it became the three of them. Because Mina wasn’t the sort of woman who’d accept a free flight home, the sort whom one could ask out for a date with flowers and a movie. Because she’d been here long enough, and was now looking for her next big adventure.
“Who knows,” Kevin said, and slapped Noel on the back.
Time to go home.
***
The End
Characters: Kevin, Mina, Noel (AU)
A/N: I got a lovely postcard the other day, and then the squeeing knew no bounds! You wonderful people, you! Here, have some poetry smut. Also, borrowing characters from all over the place. And borrowing titles from Blake. And taking advantage of Elvis and his masculinity.
Rating: R to NC-17. And for once not because I kill off someone or make everyone sad, but because one of the serious research questions for this fic included: “When men have hard-ons and they run, it slows them down, right?”
Prompt: Also submitted to sm_monthly . Wonderful prompts over there.
First Fig (Edna St. Vincent Millay)
My candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends,
It gives a lovely light.
***
They should have still had a week or two before the bloody monsoons began. But luck was not on their side, not even a little. With no footage shot, not even a single tiger in sight, and tons of rain pounding on their heads with the force of a thousand fucking falling coconuts, Noel and Kevin had to push their jeep into the next village because of course, the vehicle had broken down two kilometres short of their destination. By the time they got there, they were soaking wet, and Noel was cursing so loudly and with so much colour that Kevin seriously contemplated drowning his sorry ass in one of the swiftly forming puddles. This was saying something, since Kevin, according to everyone single person on this planet and their mothers, was patience incarnate.
“Shut up and push,” he growled through gritted teeth, hiking boots digging into the muddy ground and his upper body pressing against the back of the car with all of his weight. The car, predictably, didn’t move an inch. Instead, the rain ran down the back of his shirt, pooling just over his belt.
Noel, whom everybody and their mothers, his own in particular, knew to be the least patient person in the world, kicked against the car with all his six foot five might, splattering mud over Kevin and himself. “Fuck this fucking piece of fucking shit and let’s find a fucking bar.”
Opening his mouth to tell him off, Kevin did what Kevin was so good at: thinking before speaking. What was the point of shoving the car into the village when it was too rainy for any thief to drive it away through the mud anyway? Straightening up, he nodded. “You’re buying.” And, grabbing their equipment, he started ahead, heading towards drier ground, leaving a dumbfounded Noel behind.
***
The bar was tiny, and dirty, and rain was leaking through several tennis ball sized holes in the corrugated iron roof. Also, it was empty. Made sense, Kevin thought, nobody in their right mind would be in a smelly, leaky bar located at the edge of the village in this weather when they could just as well drink at home and stay dry.
Home, he thought with sudden longing. Air conditioning. Warm water. No mosquitoes. Good scotch. Above all, no Noel.
Noel, who loved bars in general, and dingy hellholes of bars in particular, was already back to being all smiles. The man’s temper was more changeable than the weather, Kevin thought and once again wondered why on earth he had let their producer convince him to travel to Sumatra with Noel of all people. Noel, who was one of the best cameraman in the business, but also one of the most annoying people in the world. When stuck in the jungle for weeks upon weeks searching for tigers, this was not an ideal combination. Presently, the wet man reached over the counter, grabbed a dirty dish towel and began to dry himself off with it.
“That’s highly unsanitary,” Kevin contributed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. There were no menues to be seen, which was good, because he had no means of drying his glasses enough so that he could actually use them. He also wasn’t sure if eating something in a place where mice were practically dancing tango in the corners was such a good idea. Alcohol was at least somewhat sterile.
“You’re unsanitary,” Noel shot back, rolled his eyes, and began to pound on the counter to draw the service personnel from the backroom, where the sound and flickering light indicated someone’s presence behind the beaded curtain. “HELLO, people, two honest men need some stiff DRINKS!” He banged his fist on the counter some more, and the TV was turned off. Kevin thought he heard someone groan. A very reasonable reaction to Noel, he conceded, and decided to give the waiter a generous tip. He pulled a bar stool close and sat down. Seconds later, a woman stepped out from the behind the beaded curtain. Kevin’s eyes widened. She was blonde, curvy, dressed in the tiniest of all denim cut-offs, and some hideously orange, but outrageously tight shirt. No bra, a part other than his brain added, and for once, he and Noel were on the same page. The latter whistled.
“Hello there,” Noel said, and stared at her breasts.
She didn’t smile, and simply walked behind the counter. “Odd weather and hour for a casual drink,” she said questioningly, turning her attention to Kevin. “Our car broke down,” he offered, trying to look anywhere but at her chest, and in reward, she nodded, and gave him a little smile. “We’re documentary filmmakers,” Noel immediately added, leaning himself on the counter, and tilting his head a little bit to the right. Not only was this his signature move, it was also damn effective, as Kevin had been forced to observe time and time again. This bloody tilt of the head with than damnable wink transcended all language barriers, and had more than once been the cause of him having to sleep in the car, while Noel and the beauty of the hour busied themselves in the tent or hotel room. The car was uncomfortable as hell. So was the growing tightness of his pants, brought on by the waitress and her skimpy, skimpy clothing.
She placed a drink in front of Kevin, and eyed Noel with suspicion. “What are you doing with my dish towel?” Noel glanced down, abs clearly visible under his wet shirt, dish towel still in his hand. “I was wet,” he stated, and Kevin could tell that his colleague was thinking at least ten dirty things at once. And yes, there was that wink. Instead of swooning over the counter, the waitress however wrinkled her nose. “Eww. I had used it mop the floor.” Noel dropped the towel immediately.
Kevin laughed. Maybe his luck was turning after all.
Taking a sip of his drink, he almost spit it back into the glass the second it came into touch with his palate. “What on earth is this?”
She diverted her attention from Noel, who was staring at the dirty dish towel as if it had grown legs, and fastened her eyes on him instead. He noticed that they were very blue, and rather lovely. Then he mentally counted how long it had been since he had touched a woman, and decided that a) it had been too long b) she was too pretty for Noel anyway and c) him being able to pull her would probably be diminished significantly if he asked for a weaker drink because Noel sure as hell wouldn’t. She took the glass from his hand, examined it and grinned. “No idea, I got in a trade for some Julia Roberts DVDs.” He nodded, and took the glass back. Hesitating only a little, he lifted it in a mock salute before downing its content in one go. Scrunching up his face, he fought to keep the liquid down, earning another smile from the blonde vision in front of him.
“Yeah, guess who’d like a drink too,” Noel muttered from Kevin’s left and the waitress laughed and plunked the labelless bottle on the counter.
***
“So what is a pretty lady like you doing in a place like this?” Noel asked two and a half drinks later. The waitress, who had yet to share her name, had already broken the golden rule of all bartenders, and drank with them. Kevin had the sneaking suspicion that she was able to hold her liquor much better than he was. “Oh, I was travelling, you know, and then I came here, and the bar was run by this guy, a journalist from the States, and I stayed for a bit, and then he left, and I took over and here we are.” She shrugged, and Noel’s compliment was either completely lost on her, or she just didn’t care. Kevin hoped it was the latter.
“And you’re here to shoot a documentary?” Her voice did not hold any genuine interest yet, she was making conversation, and Kevin realised that he really wanted her to be impressed with his work. Or him. Unsure of what to say that would have the desired effect, he nodded, remained silent and held her gaze. Did her eyes get bluer or was that just a trick of the light? Before he could solve this question, she squinted, spotting something, and then leaned over the counter, and pulled his glasses from the breast pocket of his (formerly) white button-down shirt. The insane level of humidity kept it wet and clinging to his broad frame. When her fingers brushed against his shirt, goosebumps rose on his arms. It had been a really long time, he thought to himself, and gave her a half smile as she pulled a clean dish towel from under the bar and began to polish his glasses, eyes never leaving him. Finally, she held the glasses up, and, satisfied with her work, put them on his nose. “Looks good,” she mumbled, and bit her lower lip. His heart began to beat a little faster and now that his vision was sharper, he found even more loveliness to look at. What a woman.
“We’re doing a film on tigers,” Noel supplied, and helped himself to another drink. Kevin very much wished that a tiger would come and eat Noel right about now so that he could have alone time with the waitress. “Very dangerous, tigers,” Noel continued, oblivious to his cockblocking effect. “But don’t you worry, I take good care of Kev and me.” Disbelieving, Kevin turned to Noel. “You are taking care of us? You got the car stuck in the mud, and you lost half of our provisions when you jumped off that waterfall.”
“You jumped off a waterfall?” the waitress asked, giving Noel a look Kevin couldn’t quite place. “The only waterfall in the area is thirty feet high!” Noel tilted his head. Again. “Didn’t look that high from all the way up,” he said, and winked. Again. And then the other shoe dropped, and Kevin uttered a low curse. The look on the girl’s face was admiration, and that meant he was truly and utterly fucked, and not in the good way.
***
The rain was still pounding on the thin roof, and the puddles around them grew more sizable. He hadn’t really noticed them before when the waitress was still looking at him with those eyes and he basically had her admirable chest right in front in him, but now that she and Noel were excitedly talking about waterfalls and bungee jumping and sky diving and what not, Kevin frowned. “You should put some bowls under the holes” he stated, voice sour, and the waitress’s pretty face darkened a little as she turned back to him. “This is my bar, and I don’t like people telling me what to do in my bar.” Noel preened, stretching himself to his considerable height. The bastard was just doing to to show off his stomach. “Yeah, Kevin, relax. The miss knows what she’s doing.”
“You can call me Mina,” she said with a sugary sweet smile, and topped up Noel’s glass, her own glass, and then simply pushed the bottle over to Kevin without looking at him. Well, fine. While the two of them toasted to A.J. Hackett and his bloody bungee rope, Kevin filled up his glass, knocked it back, and closed his eyes as the alcohol burned down his throat. Not the only thing that burned: he would have loved to spent some more time with Mina. Trust Noel to fuck it up for him. No tigers, a broken car, and now no girl. Great, just great.
“Well, I’ll be heading to the car,” he said, and got up. The floor shook, but just a little, and he was glad that he didn’t need to hold on to the counter to steady himself. Noel said: “Okay, see you tomorrow.” Mina, no longer behind the counter, but long since beside Noel, gave him a questioning look. It would have been adorable, had Noel’s arm not been around her waist, Kevin thought with apprehension. “Why are you going to the car?”
“Because it’s late, and I need to sleep,” he said. “Noel, the camera equipment stays with you, don’t lose it.” Inclining his head to Mina, he started for the door, trying to step around the puddles as he did so. “That is ridiculous,” Mina exclaimed, and extricated herself from Noel’s arm and instead reached for Kevin’s hand to stop him.
“Nobody is sleeping in a car. Both of you are staying with me.” Kevin looked into her eyes, and then at Noel. Sleeping in the car: annoying. Hearing her sleep with Noel: unbearable. “Thank you, but I’m good.” Noel leaned back and looked at them over his shoulder. “Yeah, he’s good. Don’t worry. Sleep tight, Kevin.” Mina shook her head, insistent, stubborn, and very, very cute. “No way, come on. Let me lock up here, and then we can all go to my place.” She let go of his hand and pushed her own in her pockets, straining the fabric a decisive inch or two downwards to reveal a smooth expanse of tanned skin and a tiny hint of a tattoo. It was Kevin’s undoing. “Okay.”
***
Camera equipment locked securely in the bar (or as securely as two padlocks can possibly be), the three of them stepped into the rain. Instead of immediately setting into a sprint, Mina was motionless for a minute, letting the rain wash over her, plastering her hair to her face, her bare arms, her back. She closed her eyes to the night, and there was something utterly peaceful about her standing there, arms outstretched. Kevin looked at her face, and wished he could take a picture of her. She was just as beautiful as the nature he had come to capture on film. He broke his gaze from her face and looked at Noel, who, predictably, was staring holes into her hideous orange t-shirt, wet and clingy on her slender frame, stretching over her breasts and her hardened nipples. Imagining her naked was not a far stretch. If she felt his gaze, and Kevin’s (because despite being raised better than that, he felt himself unable to look away), she neither showed it nor seemed to mind.
After what felt like both too short and too long a moment, she lowered her arms and opened her eyes. “Well, follow my lead.” And with that, she started into the rain, leaving two men and their considerable hard-ons behind.
***
Her house, or hut, rather, was the opposite end of the village. They didn’t meet a soul on their way there, which was to be expected, really. If his watch was still working, it was ten past two on a Wednesday night in October, monsoon season, dark, muddy, and horribly humid. Kevin sincerely hoped that she had a ceiling fan (scrap that, any fan) behind the door she was now trying to unlock with clumsy fingers. Noel breathing down her neck might have also not helped, so Kevin pulled the other man back, making him stand a foot away. Noel rolled his eyes, but said nothing and finally, the key turned, and Mina pushed the door open.
It was clear that she had not decorated anything in here, mainly because there was no decoration to speak of. There were two stacks of newspapers in the corner beside the double-bed, an overturned orange crate that served as a nightstand with a few candles on it, two chairs, no table, no TV, no fan, no bookshelves (but a few books on the narrow windowsill), a tiny fridge, and most importantly, Kevin noted, no couch. No couch. One double bed. No couch. Well, damn it, he was not going to be the idiot sleeping on the floor. Or at least he was not going to be the only one.
Mina walked in, kicking off her sandals. She opened the fridge and took out three beers, offering one to each man. Noel took his and made a move towards the bed, but Mina shook her head.
“Oh no, not before you’ve had a shower. I don’t want mud on my last set of halfway clean sheets during monsoon season. Washing and drying them inside is a royal pain in the arse.” Kevin, glad to shine, sat down on one of the chairs. The beer tasted much better than whatever it was they had drunk at the bar, and now that Noel was no longer wrapped around Mina, his mood brightened again. He took a sip of his beer, and then put it on the windowsill, wedging it between some historical romance and a book on baseball. He would bet half his savings that one of them wasn’t hers. He picked the baseball book and flicked it open, but his glasses, covered in rain drops and flecks of mud, hindered more than helped the process.
“Do you have something I can clean my glasses with?” Mina moved over to the chest of drawers next to the door, the only item of furniture he could not see immediately upon arrival. Above it, dangling from a little hook, was a travel backpack, large, empty, and dirty green. Mina rummaged around in a drawer before producing a blue men’s t-shirt.
“Here, you can also wear it for sleeping, if your want to.” She didn’t state the obvious: both he and Noel were smelly, and had probably slept in their clothes for more than one night already. Maybe she was being polite, maybe she was subtly being rude, it was hard to tell. Kevin, still slightly drunk and certainly very tired, didn’t mind either, and accepted the shirt.
“I don’t need one,” Noel interrupted, and took off his jacket and shirt in one fluid motion, dropping both on the floor. Mina bit down on her bottom lip again, but she seemed amused rather than ready to fling herself at the half-naked man. “Okay, yeah, sure,” she said, and then pointed to a narrow door by the fridge. “The bathroom is through there, help yourself to some towels, and just toss the dirty ones on the floor.” Noel strutted (strutted, Kevin thought with exasperation) towards the bathroom, more confident than a man who hadn’t properly washed himself in three days had any right to be.
“Oi, shoes off first,” Mina scolded. Noel turned around, almost looking chastised, and sat down on the other chair. There was no way to kick hiking boots off, he had to unlace them. So much for swaggering, Kevin thought and put the book back on the shelf. Once Noel had completed his arduous and swagger-killing task, he revealed some very smelly purple socks.
“One day, I will burn them for you,” Kevin said. Those socks were possibly worse than their owner, partly because they were washed in even longer intervals, and also, of a rather offensive colour. Noel mumbled something, took them off, and made a a big show of taking both the boots and the socks outside, leaving them on the tiny porch, where they would be safe from the rain and Mina would be safe from their stench. He then grabbed his toiletry kit, which Kevin knew to include a toothbrush, rolled-up fresh underwear, a bar of soap and a thick comb. He knew because he had an identical kit: they’d been farewell presents by their producer. He was glad for it now because it meant that his already small chances of attracting more of Mina’s attention would not be diminished by him wearing manky underwear. Unfortunately, the same went for Noel.
Thankfully, Noel closed the bathroom door behind him. Kevin had halfway expected him to leave the door open to give Mina a good pre-show of his behind. You could call that another of Noel’s signature moves, and like the head tilting and winking, it was also damn effective.
But instead of watching the closing bathroom door, Mina looked out of the window, staring right over Kevin’s head. “I don’t think I’ll stay another monsoon season. With so much rain, there’s nothing to do. Bar is empty most of the time.”
“We’ll be heading back too.”
“Did you get the footage you needed?”
Kevin shook his head. “There are so few tigers around, and to be honest, they are a lot smarter than Noel and me, so the few that there were probably walked circles around us.”
The good thing was that they had shot lots and lots of footage about Sumatran orangutans. Not the almost extinct species they had come for, but the pictures were great and the producers would love them. Get in a good narrator, and they had all they needed.
“You don’t seem to mind too much,” Mina observed, and looked down to meet his eyes. Rolling the bottle in his hands, Kevin returned her gaze. “Some things you just have to accept as they are.”
“I don’t know, I’d probably still be out there, waiting for the tigers, slowly drowning in the mud.” She didn’t smile when she said it, and Kevin wondered, and not for the first time, what had brought a woman like her to a hundred people village right at the edge of the jungle. But something told him that if he would ask, she wouldn’t give him a straight answer. It had taken her two drinks to offer her name, and even then, it had only been to express her disdain at his criticism. She was very stubborn. Very stubborn, and tantalisingly close. If he reached out his hand now, he could touch her stomach, pull those cut-offs down a little further to get a good look at that tattoo he had seen earlier.They stared at each other, and outside, the rain fell. Eventually, she reached over and touched the collar of his shirt. “Who wears a white shirt on an expedition into the jungle,” she whispered, and he held very still.
“I told him it was stupid,” Noel’s voice interrupted, and he stepped out of the bathroom clad in only his underwear. His very tight underwear. Why couldn’t Noel be fat and wobbly like all other cameramen? Mina gave him an appreciate once-over and a little half-smile, and then took the beer from Kevin’s hand. “Your turn now.” Grabbing his toiletry kit, Kevin made his way to the bathroom, vowing to take the swiftest, but most effective shower possible. He would have loved a long, hot shower after weeks of sparse personal hygiene, but he didn’t dare to stay away too long. Five minutes or under. He hoped she could resist Noel and his bloody muscles for that long.
***
When he returned, dressed in the blue shirt and his underwear, everything else folded in a neat, but smelly pile, he found Noel already in bed. The man had draped himself all over the covers, and looked like a fucking underwear model. Kevin himself felt more than a little uncomfortable, standing in front of this gorgeous woman wearing either nowhere near enough or way too much, depending on the point-of-view, but Noel didn’t share his worry and seemed perfectly at ease.
Mina smiled, first at Noel, then at Kevin, and raised her chin in a commanding motion. “Noel, scoot over.” The brunette didn’t need telling twice: he was at the wall-side of the bed before Kevin could say “leacherous git”, slipping under the covers with a gleeful look. Instead of taking of her pants, Mina then turned to Kevin. “You can go in next, I’ll take a shower first.” Noel’s face fell, and Kevin chuckled. Climbing into the bed beside Noel, which was not as odd as it had been before they had slept in a tent together for three weeks, he was glad that Mina would be sleeping next to him, and not in the middle, and not beside Noel. Noel threw him a dirty look, just as Mina closed the bathroom door behind her.
“Don’t get your hopes up,” he muttered sourly, and kicked Kevin under the covers.
Where his own shower had been short and to the point, Mina took her time. There was probably not enough hot water left, and when Kevin imagined her under a spray of icy drops, a very significant part of his anatomy was resuscitated. He shifted a bit, and turned his back to Noel.
“I wish you were back in the damn truck,” Noel grumbled.
“Likewise,” Kevin said, and took stock of the moment: with Noel, there wouldn’t be anything happening tonight, that was for sure. But if he himself were not here, he had not doubt that Noel would have hooked Mina by drink three.
Charming bugger.
Now they were both at a loss, and a big one at that. Mina wasn’t merely pretty. She was beautiful. And without a doubt happy to meet some people from back home. Perhaps she could fly out with them, Kevin thought. She had said that she didn’t want to stick around here until spring, and if they were back home, he could ask her on a date, and Noel wouldn’t be around to interfere. It was a good plan. If she decided to return with them.
Details, Kevin thought, minor details.
A free flight, and she had next to nothing to pack up anyway. It didn’t seem entirely unreasonable to get his hopes up and he resolved to ask her come with them in the morning.
***
Mina announced her return by flicking the lights off. Kevin could hear her soft footfalls approaching the bed, and obligingly lifted the thin covers so that she could slip in. “Thank you,” she whispered, and climbed into the bed beside him. Kevin turned onto his back, and the three of them lay there like sardines in a can, arms pressed against each other.
“I should warn you,” Kevin whispered to Mina, “Noel snores.” She giggled, and Noel kicked him again to show his displeasure. “Well, Kevin farts in his sleep, so you can pick your poison.” Kevin, turning beet-red, looked at Mina, whose eyes were full of mirth. “That is a vicious lie.” Noel laughed, loud and barking, and Mina chimed in too. Resentment bubbled up in Kevin, but then Mina’s hand snuck her way into his own, and she gave it a brief, hard squeeze before letting go.
***
Eyes wide open, Kevin stared at the ceiling in the dark, conscious of Mina to his left, and even more conscious of the large lump of dead weight to his right. Noel had fallen asleep within seconds once he had realised he definitely wasn’t getting any what with Kevin in the middle. Mina too was asleep, curled to her side, her back pressed against Kevin. There was enough skin to skin contact for him to tell that she had also decided to sleep in underwear and some sort of cropped shirt. He longed to reach over and wrap his arms around her tiny, bare waist, and he might have, had Noel not been there. Had Noel not touched her first, back in the bar.
This rivalry between them wasn’t new. Mainly because Noel had difficulties taking orders, and because Kevin so loved to give them. They were constantly at a war of wills, and when shoved into the wilderness together, it was all about who was stronger, faster, smarter. Kevin knew that it was childish, but he couldn’t help it.
And then, hours ago, they had met Mina. Mina, who had touched him twice, first to put his glasses onto his face, and then to reach for his shirt. Mina, whom Noel had so casually embraced, never bothering to check for permission. Mina, who was now turning around and looked him right in the eyes in this dark room in the middle of the night. Her gaze was so intense, it made him shiver.
“Can’t sleep?” she whispered. His throat went dry. She was so close; he breathed in the smell of her mint toothpaste and honey shower gel. After being forced to endure the stench of Noel and his socks for weeks, Mina smelled like heaven. Actually, he was pretty sure that he would love her smell no matter where and with whom he was.
“Not really,” he finally answered, and she gave him a little quizzical look. There was a second, brief and fleeting, when she looked insecure, for the first time this evening. It was then that Kevin knew he was in trouble once the night was over and he had to leave her behind because he wasn’t sure he could. He wanted her around, and not only for a night. Then the look was gone, and her face was brave and beautiful again. “Well, a little cuddle always puts me to sleep.”
His heart sped up then, beating so fast and strong that surely, she must be able to hear it.
“Noel is too hairy for my taste,” Kevin said, voice hoarse. She chuckled at the clumsy joke and nudged his arm upwards, smoothly moving so that her head was resting on his shoulder, and her hand on his shirt-clad chest. “Your heartbeat,” she murmured after a while, voice low, but unsurprised, and then, with complete self-assuredness, slipped her hand under his shirt. She was motionless for only a moment before she began to draw little circles on his skin. He could feel her nails, blunt and short, but just long enough so that he could imagine her raking them over his back.
Beside them, Noel stirred, and kicked, and turned. “I don’t know whether you noticed, but there’s another man here,” Kevin said, aiming for humour, but sounding almost desperate instead. Mina moved her long legs, and hooked her ankle around his. “I don’t know whether you’ve noticed, but I don’t really care,” she whispered against his ear, and then placed a feathery kiss below his chin.
He couldn’t do this. Not here with Noel next to them. Kevin forced himself to count to ten and to remain motionless. Maybe they could go outside, maybe back to the bar, maybe - no. This was insane. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, - Mina leaned in again, and this time, Kevin turned to meet her halfway. Fuck Noel.
The kiss was slow, but there was nothing chaste about it. He had wanted her the second he laid eyes on her, and now that she was pushing herself against him, so willing, so soft, and so smooth, there was no holding back. He reached for her waist and pulled her towards him, never breaking the kiss. Mina, smiling against his mouth, did him one better, and shifted so that she was half on top of him. The bed creaked, but neither of them cared.
A small part of him was wondering why me, why not Noel, when they had seemed to get along so well back in the bar and he had been the odd one out. Luckily, the overwhelming part of his heart, brain, and dick just didn’t care. As the kiss deepened, Mina rubbed herself against him, and Kevin uttered a guttural moan. Fuck. If they woke Noel, she would stop. He did not want her to stop. He very much did not want her to stop. Making most of the moment, he let his hands travel down her back until he reached her arse, barely covered by what could only be described as seriously skimpy underwear. Underwear that was hiding that tantalising tattoo... Gripping each cheek with one hand, he brought her flush against him, pressing himself against her while exploring her hot mouth with his tongue. This time, it was Mina who moaned into the kiss. He could hear it, it seemed to boom in his ears, louder than the rain, and louder than his heartbeat. Before the night was out, he would hear her moan his name, that he had to make sure of.
The bed creaked again, and Mina tugged at his shirt. He obliged and took it off, no easy feat with her still draped across him, but he managed somehow. The shirt landed at the foot of the bed, and Mina lowered her golden head to suck on his nipples without further ado. Kevin bit down on his lip, and let his hands roam over her back again. Hands slipping underneath her shirt, he moved them from her back to her sides, teasing the outline of her breasts. Mina responded by gently biting down on the bud in her mouth, and instantly, Keivn was torn between wanting to pull her up to kiss her again or to push her talented mouth further down where he his cock was straining against his briefs.
Instead, he reached for the thin fabric of her shirt. Something about this woman made his famous patience take flight like a bird in a storm. “You can take it off, or I can rip it off.” She pushed herself to her knees, straddling him, and with a dark smile, pulled the shirt over her head. Her breasts bounced free, a small trail of sweat running down the valley between them. Not over-thinking it, Kevin sat up too, arms wrapped around her, and licked it away.
They were all out in the open now, illuminated by the dim light of the moon shining through the window. The hairs on his neck stood up, and Kevin looked to the right. Noel was awake, watching them. His brown eyes seemed black in the dark. “Hello Noel,” Mina whispered, and it was only then that Kevin realised that maybe, they wouldn’t stop just because Noel was awake now.
Maybe, they were just about to begin.
***
When morning came, Kevin awoke to the sound of a softly closed door. Beside him, Noel stirred, a lazy grin on his face. “What a night,” he murmured, eyes still closed. Kevin felt like nodding, but didn’t. Noel’s face was not the one he wanted to see. “Where’s Mina?”
Noel opened his eyes, and looked around, while Kevin reached for his glasses and put them on. The hut was empty except for the both of them. Three pairs of underpants decorated the floor, while the blue shirt he had gone to sleep in was at the foot of the bed where he had flung it last night. Mina’s cropped top (and the woman herself) was nowhere to be seen.
Kevin and Noel sat in silence for a moment, exchanging a quiet look, before Kevin slid out of the bed, picked up his clothes and disappeared in the small bathroom. The mirror was all fogged up, so Mina must have taken a shower not too long ago. Following her example, Kevin stepped into the small shower stall and turned the water on. The first jet was ice cold, but then it warmed up, until finally, pleasantly warm water was raining down on him.
His mind flashed back to the night before, to Mina’s slender form in his arms, the intent look in her eyes as he entered her, her gasp when she came. She hadn’t said his name, he realised, she hadn’t said anything at all. She had only spoken through her body, both to him and later to Noel, telling them tales of pleasure and lust and need and in a moment or two, love. But in the wee hours of morning, shortly before they all fell asleep, she had kissed him again, and Kevin allowed himself to believe that that kiss’ meaning was something only he had been privy too.
The door was opened, and Noel stuck his head in. “Dude, I think she’s gone.” Kevin turned the water to cold. He’d expected as much.
***
There was no note, but the chest of drawers was emptied, and both the backpack and the book on baseball were gone. When they made their way to the bar, they found the key taped to the door. They retrieved their gear, and Noel kept glancing over his shoulder as if he expected her to walk in any minute now.
Kevin shook his head. For all their bonding last night, Noel understood very little of how Mina ticked. “Noel, she’s gone, you can stop looking.”
Noel lifted the camera case into the trunk, and then turned to stare at the village behind them. “Yeah, but why?” Kevin shrugged. There were many answers. Because she was a woman on the run, even though he didn’t know what it was she was running from. Because maybe, there’d been something there last night, just between the two of them, before it became the three of them. Because Mina wasn’t the sort of woman who’d accept a free flight home, the sort whom one could ask out for a date with flowers and a movie. Because she’d been here long enough, and was now looking for her next big adventure.
“Who knows,” Kevin said, and slapped Noel on the back.
Time to go home.
***
The End