Everybody Shut Up (I Can Still Hear Myself Think) (Jack/Liz/Carol)
Title: Everybody Shut Up (I Can Still Hear Myself Think)
For: The Alphabet Meme
Fandom: 30 Rock
Pairings: Jack/Liz/Carol, Jack/Liz, Liz/Carol
Prompt: U is for uncomfortable. (For mindymakru.)
Word Count: 4,486
Rating: R
Summary: This is all her fault. (Follows " That One Time.")
Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue!
*
Liz has ordered steak.
On a very basic level, this decision was centered on a desire to eat steak. Who doesn't love a good steak? Vegetarians. People who don't like red meat. That's not the point. Point is, in addition to being a good meal, a steak dinner, the steak part at least, involves a lot of chewing, which means the uncomfortable silences will be *reasonable* because she's *eating* and then the silences? Will no longer be uncomfortable.
Until her dinner arrives, she's going to have to deal with the uncomfortable silences. Which are all her fault. (Maybe she should have consulted Jenna on how to handle a dinner with people you've had a three-way with. Gave her a hypothetical situation, like: If you had to share a meal with Roseanne Barr and Tom Arnold, or the Nelson twins, or Dane Cook and Arsenio Hall, or those two hobos you met near that junkyard, what would you do?) She's... weirded out. Thinking about it. Thinking about... what happened.
She's the awkward one here, and is that strange? Is it strange that she can't ignore this? Because Jack and Carol don't hesitate or get flustered when they talk to each other; they seem perfectly at ease. Like they never had a crazy three-way with the lady seated between them in the booth. She wonders if this is all an act or if they actually feel completely relaxed.
How can a person relax in this situation? How can two people relax?
Maybe because they didn't have sex with each other. While her brain is going, "I've had sex with both of them, I've had *sex* with both of them," theirs aren't seized by stuff like, "We've had sex with the same woman, the same woman, and also I know what your penis looks like." Men are weird, they are *so weird.*
(So weird. Wasn't that a show? A kid's show. Gross.)
No, you know what? She can feel at ease with this, too. So she had a threesome with the two guys she's eating dinner with. Who cares? She doesn't need to obsess about it all night. She doesn't obsess about it all the time she's with Jack (just sometimes, and also that time he brought it up). She doesn't think about it all the time she's with Carol (just sometimes, and all the times he's brought it up). She's gonna transfer this ability to ignore what happened to this situation. Starting now, she won't think about Carol in bed with them, watching her straddle Jack--
Bad start.
No, she can't do it. How is she supposed to?
You know, she never should have done this with Jack. If she was going to indulge Carol's interests -- man, she loves euphemisms, especially when they keep her from thinking 'my boyfriend thinks it's hot to watch me have sex with someone else,' a thought she's had too often lately -- she, well, they should have picked up a stranger. Then she'd never have to hang out with this guy or spend a night with him or wonder if she looks like she's thinking about... stuff.
But she doesn't want to have sex with a stranger. She doesn't want to go with Carol to some nightclub trolling for men. She wouldn't be able to do it, so Carol would have to take charge... and imagine how disappointed this dude would be if he got picked up by a hot guy and then found out he'd have to have sex with her.
She'd ruin some guy's night, essentially. So maybe this is better. For the nonexistent guy.
Liz takes a sip of her wine. She looks over at Jack, finds herself focusing on his mouth. You know, she really hates that she has a thing... not for, but about his mouth. About imaging his mouth *on* her and, man, she misses the time when she hated oral sex. Carol killed that time, so yeah. Think about his mouth. No. Don't think about any mouths.
"I'm ready for some steak!" Liz says.
"Me, too," Carol says. "We've been waiting for minutes."
She nods. "Way too long."
She catches Jack watching her, a slight smile on his face.
*
Liz is thankful when Carol leaves the table to go to the bathroom because she hopes the lack of one part of their threesome will make it easier not to think about... You know.
It doesn't work.
She hates Jack's mouth. When he licks his lips, she scowls at him before abruptly looking away.
"Lemon, are you okay?"
She shrugs. Meets his eyes. "Of course I am. Or maybe I'm not." She pauses. "Let me ask you something."
"Go ahead."
"Do you feel... comfortable, being out to dinner with us or is it all an act? Because I find it pretty distracting to be out with two guys who've boffed me in the same night. Did I say that too loud? If anyone overheard that, I was *joking.* Laugh-a-minute with me."
"Calm down."
"I'm calm. Just uncomfortable. Are you really not uncomfortable? I didn't let you answer before."
"If I were uncomfortable sharing meals with people I've enjoyed odd sexual experiences with, I'd always eat alone." He watches her silently for a moment. "In what way are you uncomfortable? Because I can assure you both Carol and I don't think less of you--"
"I don't think that--"
"But if you're reliving the experience and becoming aroused--"
"Oh, shut up."
"--then I'd say you should admit I was right. That you enjoy being watched during sex."
She gapes at him for a moment. Then emphatically states: "If anyone overheard that, that was also a joke. Ha ha ha ha ha." She lowers her voice. "That's not... You don't think there's a reason why a lady might feel uncomfortable about a situation like this outside of 'becoming aroused'? Why am I talking to you about this? I should have called Jenna with a hypothetical and no, I'm *not* going to explain what I mean by that. I'm not... what you think I'm becoming. No."
He raises his eyebrows. "Then what is your issue?"
"I don't have one."
"Lemon, don't impose awkwardness where none exists. And, if you are aroused--"
"I said I'm not. You're gross. And weird. Shut up."
Their food arrives. She starts eating her meal right away.
She catches him smiling at her again. She chews her steak as aggressively as she can.
*
At the end of the night, Jack offers them a ride. She doesn't protest Carol accepting it because she's *not* feeling weird about this. No. She is not. Soon, she'll forget why she ever felt weird about it. Because, you know. It's just sex. That's gotta be what Carol and Jack feel, and they are right. Just sex. And even if she find herself thinking about the sex, she can think about it like a dude does. Let it pass through her brain every seven seconds without it overtaking her general thought processes.
She and Carol are on one side, while Jack is sitting by the partition between the backseat and the driver. To say she's avoiding his eyes wouldn't be exactly true, but she's not looking at him much, either. Carol puts his hand on her leg and Liz almost pulls away because...
She's still thinking about stuff she shouldn't think of. For instance: What would it be like to have crazy sex in the back of a limo?
(In her mind, it's like the crazy sex they had in her apartment, except in the back of his limo.
She hasn't got a great imagination, which is fine because she doesn't need that on top of her memory.)
They'd probably have to kneel on the floor -- instead of her couch -- Jack behind her and her arms resting on the seat. Or she'd be on top. Or he'd get on his knees in front of her, pushing her skirt up before he starts kissing the inside of her thigh--
She is not aroused.
And she is not good at being a guy. Which, you know, is kind of surprising.
She holds Carol's hand the rest of the way to her building. When they get out, Liz vows to stop thinking about Jack now that she's officially away from him. So. Carol's mouth.
Yeah. Carol's mouth will do.
She kisses him before they go inside.
*
Liz isn't the type to wear sexy lingerie. Not that all her underwear is grody or anything, but she doesn't have sexy, silky sleepwear. Sexwear, is what it is, since you're only wearing that to get a guy all hot and bothered, right? In any case, she doesn't have sexy lingerie so, when she's in the mood for funny business with Carol, Liz goes to bed not in pajamas, but a t-shirt and, when she's done laundry, some lacy underwear.
Tonight, Liz is wearing only the t-shirt.
She leans against the doorframe of the bathroom, waggles her eyebrows. "Check this out. Someone's getting lucky." She points a thumb at herself. "That someone being me."
After she joins him on the bed, she quickly leans in and kisses him. She straddles his thighs as the kissing becomes more heated. His hands travel over her body, underneath her shirt. He cups her breast, his thumb moving back and forth over her nipple and she lets her mouth travel lower, down to his neck. His hands shift to her legs, caressing them, and she kisses her way back to his mouth. Liz stops, looks at Carol's face. She likes his face. She likes his face, and she doesn't want to think about anyone else's face. Or anyone else's anything else.
"Don't talk about... that thing that happened." To an outsider this would be a vague request, but there's nothing else he talks about during sex. And maybe he doesn't even want to talk about it tonight, but... she wants to be sure. "I've had my fill of Jack for now."
"That's what she said!" He holds up his hand for a high-five, and she eyes it warily. "Not the time?"
She shakes her head. "Not the time." He puts his hand down. "Seriously, though... I spent all night with him. I don't need to think about--"
"How he made you come--"
She covers his mouth. "Really, don't." After she pulls her hand away, she presses her lips against his. She parts his lips with her tongue, kisses him soft and slow to turn this back into something sweet. Romantic. "This can just be about us, right? You don't *need* to think about... stuff, do you?"
"I don't *need* it."
"Then shut up and do me."
He hesitates. "But I like it."
"I know you like it. But like it on another night, okay?"
She kisses him. One of his hands slips between her legs, touching her lightly. His thumb brushes over the apex of her sex, and he speaks again:
"You liked it, too."
"Please--"
"You liked the way he fucked you."
She's stopped objecting to his word usage; it's better than the other words he's put in there to describe what happened. She finds herself not even objecting to him continuing to talk about this, because she's hit by a flash of Jack underneath her, his hands on her ass as he thrusted up into her. She bites her lip, stifling a moan. His thumb presses more firmly on her clit and her head drops down to his shoulder.
"You were really hot."
She lets out a breath. "Stop--"
He pulls his thumb away. She wonders if he's teasing her or completely misunderstanding what she wants. "You're always hot--"
She snorts. "Well, of course that's true--"
"But the way you looked, the way you pushed your hips back against him--"
"Carol--"
"The way you looked when you came--"
"Take your pants off."
"You were so wet--"
She bites her lip again; presses the heel of her hand into his chest. "Seriously. Shut up and do me."
"You liked being watched, didn't you?"
The suggestion, one she's let go by unremarked on in the past, makes her bristle now that she *doesn't* want to talk about this. Think about this. About Jack. Now that it's been only a couple hours since Jack reasserted his belief that she's an exhibitionist.
She pulls away, lightly smacks his chest. "Oh God, shut up. I'm not a freak."
Carol looks dumbfounded for a moment. "Oh."
She feels immediate remorse, but she doesn't know how to undo it. She ends up stammering: "I'm not... you're not a freak. I didn't mean that you're--"
"Forget it."
"Yeah, forget it! Nothing to remember from this exchange. Am I right or am I right? Spoilers for real life coming up: I'm completely right. Right?"
He abruptly moves his leg, forcing her to lift hers up and stop straddling him. He lies down and rolls onto his side, yanking most of the blanket with him.
"So... I guess you don't want to do it."
"Nope!"
"Okay."
There's a long silence.
"Eighty-eight percent of the people on AmINormal dot com think I'm *normal*, Liz."
"I agree with them. Really! Let's have make-up sex."
He doesn't reply.
"Okay. Guess that's still a no. Make-up hug?" More silence. "Okay then."
*
The next morning, Carol is getting ready to leave for the airport. He doesn't really have to go for a couple more hours, so she knows what happened is not over. Thing is, she still doesn't know how to undo it.
"I swear I didn't mean--"
"I think you did."
"If I believed you're a freak, would I want to be with you? I don't think so. I break up with guys for little things. I broke up with a guy who wanted to watch me eat pickles. I don't mean he *wanted* to watch me eat pickles, he just thought it was weird that I refused to eat pickles in front of him. Not even that, actually. He found a jar in the closet and there were questions and it's none of his business... that's not the point. I broke up with a guy for being too handsome. Okay, he was dumb. I broke up with him because he was dumb. And if I didn't break up with you, it means I don't think you're a freak. It means I really, really like you so can we forget this?"
Carol shrugs. "We'll talk about it later, okay?"
Liz exhales. Nods. "Okay."
*
Carol doesn't call her that night, or the next day. Liz starts to become a hundred percent certain she's getting dumped and, you know, she is not okay with that. She is not okay with her relationship getting ruined by her trying to *save* it... but maybe everything would have been okay if she told Carol she didn't want to do it. Maybe they could have watched the porno she wrote based on her life and pretended that was really her, and that he was watching her get done by a series of dudes.
Why didn't she come up with this idea sooner? Why did she let sex with Jack be the best option?
Damn it.
Liz decides not to tell Jack about her relationship problems because, honestly, she doesn't want to admit that she screwed this up *anyway*. That she went through with a crazy threesome for the sake of her boyfriend but *still* couldn't keep him. Honestly, if you have sex with your friend and your boyfriend ends up wanting to leave you...
What has her life become, when she's thinking stuff like that?
When Carol finally calls, she's in her office with Pete. After she tells Carol to wait for a minute, she frantically shoos Pete out, but he strolls out in this slumpy shuffle thing he's adopted recently. Either he has some weird health problem or he's become Charlie Brown or a weird health problem has turned him into Charlie Brown. She wants to throw something at him to get him out of her office quicker, but that's probably not the nice thing to do.
She throws something at him anyway. But it's a pen and she misses, so it's not that bad.
"Hey, hey!" Liz says overly brightly when she's finally alone. "How are you doing? I'm glad you called. I've wanted you to call."
A bit of silence. Too much silence. 'I'm dumping you' silence. "Look, Liz--"
"I don't think you're a freak. You're amazing and awesome and funny. And you're really good-looking. You're the best looking guy I've had sex with in the past couple of months." He doesn't respond. "Bad threesome humor. You're better looking than Jack, I mean. I'm not making fun of you. You don't think that, right, because--"
"Liz."
"I'm making this worse, aren't I?"
"No. No, you're not making it worse."
"Because it couldn't get any worse?"
"Because complimenting me isn't worse than calling me a freak."
She exhales. "I didn't mean it. I just... I felt weird about it. I feel weird about what happened. I don't do stuff like that a lot."
"I know."
"I don't like being watched during... I'm not an exhibitionist. It wouldn't be bad if I *were*... but I'm not. But I did like it." She thinks of Jack's mouth on the inside of her thigh; Carol's on her breast. She wonders if she wants a guy with two mouths, is the thing, but that's probably not right. In fact, you know what? That would be really creepy. "I did, and I don't regret it, and I'm not mad that I did that with you. For you. But I don't need to think about it every time we fool around, okay?"
"I get it. You're right. I should have dropped it. But I thought you were into it."
"I sort of was, but I sort of wasn't. I just... wanted a break from that stuff. I'm not saying you should *never* talk about it. Just sometimes, I'd rather not." Carol doesn't reply and, in the second before she says it, she decides how to smooth this over. How to prove to him that she's not creeped out by the whole thing. "And, you know... if you want to do it again, we could. Not... I don't want to make a habit of it, but if you wanted to. I'd let that happen again."
"You don't have to."
"I want to."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." She pauses. "I want it to be Jack again, okay? Every other guy I know is too gross. You don't want to see Lutz have sex, right?"
He laughs. "Not really."
"And I can't... I don't like strangers. I don't want to pick a stranger up. And I like him. You know? I like him."
(She means that in a few different ways. Carol's probably focusing on the sexual implications.)
"I know. I know you like him."
When he's back in the city, she doesn't get to change into her t-shirt or her sexy underwear -- she had done laundry recently -- before they start fooling around. He doesn't mention anything outside of this, outside of them and her bedroom, and she feels like everything is falling into place.
*
So.
Okay.
Liz is sitting on Jack's couch, in his office, a glass of wine in her hand. Ending a day with a drink, and if there's any day on which it's good to have some alcohol, it's the day -- well, night, technically -- she's going to ask him to have sex with her again. It's not just embarrassing, it's... very, very embarrassing. But, if she's drunk enough, she won't even care. Being drunk is awesome. Maybe the fact that Jack drinks *all the time* is why he rarely feels shame.
Anyway. She is going to ask him. After another glass of wine.
If he gets all smug about it... aha! She knows how to cut that one off at the knees.
"I want you to have sex with me again, but not because of me being an exhibitionist. I'm not a freak. Don't tell Carol I said that. The freak part, not the sex part. Obviously he knows about the sex part. So, will you do it? Say you will because I don't want to have sex with some random guy to keep my boyfriend happy. Because if it's not you, it's a stranger, because I'm not boffing Frank. Nobody wants to see that. And I don't want to do it."
He seems vaguely amused, though not in a way that implies he *knows* everything, so she's not pissed off. At the moment. "I assume there's a beginning to this story."
"Do you want to hear it?"
"As streamlined as possible."
"Well... Carol said that he thought I might, you know, enjoy being watched. During sex. I snapped at him--"
"I assume you called him a freak?"
"In a way. And he got pretty upset. So, in order to smooth things over, I thought, you know. Why not do it again? Why not show him I completely accept his weirdo sexual kink? Don't tell him I said that, either, okay?"
"I won't." He pauses. "You shouldn't do something you don't want to do in order to apologize to Carol."
"I never said I didn't want to do it. I mean... I'm not *wanting* to do it in a... Okay. I want... I don't want. But, yeah, I thoroughly enjoyed myself, as you said. If doing it again is, if it's a thing he would want and I don't not want, so then you could say I want the thing, too--" She exhales heavily. "I am making no sense. Point is, I'm not doing this against my will. I'm fine with, you know. That doesn't mean I *need* to do it." She waves her hand dismissively. She almost knocks the wine glass out of her hand, and she's reminded of that part in My Big Friggin' Wedding where that one jerk's super wasted stepfather accidentally smacks the beer out of his own hand. Crap, is she that drunk? She doesn't think she is, but she did drink a little more than she usually would during this sort of 'late night in the office with Jack' situation. "I don't..." She puts her free hand down on the couch so it won't smack into her alcohol anymore. "I'm not an exhibitionist. Slightly an exhibitionist, or whatever you might think about that. So... you're in, right? You already offered, so you have to say yes."
"I don't have to say yes." There's a pause, in which she imagines awkward night after awkward night spent trying to pick up guys in bars until Carol realizes she's *not* sexy. "I'm going to help you," he clarifies as her expression becomes panicked, "but I don't have to. That, Lemon, is why my friendship is valuable."
She relaxes. Allows herself to joke. "This is what you do? Lend your junk out to your friends?"
"The female ones, if they don't have a major deformity."
"So my feet *don't* count as a major deformity?"
"You seem to have the issue under control."
"Carol recommended a great podiatrist, and he prescribed me this amazing antifungal cream--"
"Lemon."
"So you'll do me while my boyfriend watches but you *don't* want to hear about my fungus issues?"
He stares blankly at her. Says, as if this were the most obvious thing in the world, "Yes."
"Okay then. Can I ask you a question?"
"You may do so, yes."
"What do you get out of this?"
"I've told you what I get out of this; assisting you and--"
"No, I mean..." She hesitates. "Do you... like being watched during sex?"
He shrugs. "Not particularly. But I must admit that I do enjoy, in various avenues and ways, exhibiting my superior skills."
She rolls her eyes. Several moments later, she sits up straight. "Are you saying you're better at sex than Carol?"
"All men believe they're the greatest lover their various partners have experienced. Most of them are wrong; I, however, am not."
"Carol is your friend, you know."
"I didn't say anything negative about him; being a lesser lover than I am is nothing to be ashamed of."
She sighs. "Yeah. Whatever."
He seems vaguely amused again, though this time in the way like he thinks he *knows* something. And maybe he does. But. Everyone knows she didn't hate having sex with Jack. Well, she and Carol and Jack know that. That's not everyone.
(She is a little too drunk.)
She's not going to compare the two of them, but. Jack does know what he's doing.
Jack swirls the scotch around in his glass. "May I ask you something?"
"You can, sure."
"If you're not an exhibitionist--"
"Come on, Jack, stop with the if. You know how annoying that is, right, when you act like you know me better than I know myself and you're *wrong?*"
He doesn't respond at first. Then, flatly: "You didn't derive sexual pleasure from being watched."
"Thank you! That even sounded sincere."
"Then what did you enjoy about it?"
"Do I actually have to spell it out? The sex. I liked the sex. You know I did. I like having sex with Carol. You're not terrible at sex, I guess." She's making an attempt to deflate his ego, but it doesn't seem to work because he still looks pretty self-satisfied. "So it was a bunch of decent sex, and I got to make a guy I'm dating happy. Which I don't get to do a lot. So those are all the reasons why I liked it. Getting watched was not a factor in why I enjoyed it. Okay?"
"Okay."
"And, before we do it again, I'm going to thank you. So you don't ask me to thank you a couple of weeks after it happens. So. Thank you."
"Then I'll say, 'you're welcome' in advance."
"So you won't say it while we're doing it."
"I said that because I could tell you were about to come."
"This conversation is over." She pauses. "Why did you say I should be grateful? Was that about sex or you being an awesome friend?"
He considers this for a moment. "I don't recall, but I assume both."
"Also... I don't think the three of us should hang out for a while after the... thing. Going out to dinner with the two of you... I felt weird and distracted. So let's not have dinner until the, you know, the thing is far enough in the past that I don't... whatever. So it's not on my mind the whole night."
"You were becoming aroused."
"Jack... shut up. Seriously, shut up. But also, thank you."
"You're welcome."
He leans forward to pour more wine into her glass.
END
For: The Alphabet Meme
Fandom: 30 Rock
Pairings: Jack/Liz/Carol, Jack/Liz, Liz/Carol
Prompt: U is for uncomfortable. (For mindymakru.)
Word Count: 4,486
Rating: R
Summary: This is all her fault. (Follows " That One Time.")
Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue!
*
Liz has ordered steak.
On a very basic level, this decision was centered on a desire to eat steak. Who doesn't love a good steak? Vegetarians. People who don't like red meat. That's not the point. Point is, in addition to being a good meal, a steak dinner, the steak part at least, involves a lot of chewing, which means the uncomfortable silences will be *reasonable* because she's *eating* and then the silences? Will no longer be uncomfortable.
Until her dinner arrives, she's going to have to deal with the uncomfortable silences. Which are all her fault. (Maybe she should have consulted Jenna on how to handle a dinner with people you've had a three-way with. Gave her a hypothetical situation, like: If you had to share a meal with Roseanne Barr and Tom Arnold, or the Nelson twins, or Dane Cook and Arsenio Hall, or those two hobos you met near that junkyard, what would you do?) She's... weirded out. Thinking about it. Thinking about... what happened.
She's the awkward one here, and is that strange? Is it strange that she can't ignore this? Because Jack and Carol don't hesitate or get flustered when they talk to each other; they seem perfectly at ease. Like they never had a crazy three-way with the lady seated between them in the booth. She wonders if this is all an act or if they actually feel completely relaxed.
How can a person relax in this situation? How can two people relax?
Maybe because they didn't have sex with each other. While her brain is going, "I've had sex with both of them, I've had *sex* with both of them," theirs aren't seized by stuff like, "We've had sex with the same woman, the same woman, and also I know what your penis looks like." Men are weird, they are *so weird.*
(So weird. Wasn't that a show? A kid's show. Gross.)
No, you know what? She can feel at ease with this, too. So she had a threesome with the two guys she's eating dinner with. Who cares? She doesn't need to obsess about it all night. She doesn't obsess about it all the time she's with Jack (just sometimes, and also that time he brought it up). She doesn't think about it all the time she's with Carol (just sometimes, and all the times he's brought it up). She's gonna transfer this ability to ignore what happened to this situation. Starting now, she won't think about Carol in bed with them, watching her straddle Jack--
Bad start.
No, she can't do it. How is she supposed to?
You know, she never should have done this with Jack. If she was going to indulge Carol's interests -- man, she loves euphemisms, especially when they keep her from thinking 'my boyfriend thinks it's hot to watch me have sex with someone else,' a thought she's had too often lately -- she, well, they should have picked up a stranger. Then she'd never have to hang out with this guy or spend a night with him or wonder if she looks like she's thinking about... stuff.
But she doesn't want to have sex with a stranger. She doesn't want to go with Carol to some nightclub trolling for men. She wouldn't be able to do it, so Carol would have to take charge... and imagine how disappointed this dude would be if he got picked up by a hot guy and then found out he'd have to have sex with her.
She'd ruin some guy's night, essentially. So maybe this is better. For the nonexistent guy.
Liz takes a sip of her wine. She looks over at Jack, finds herself focusing on his mouth. You know, she really hates that she has a thing... not for, but about his mouth. About imaging his mouth *on* her and, man, she misses the time when she hated oral sex. Carol killed that time, so yeah. Think about his mouth. No. Don't think about any mouths.
"I'm ready for some steak!" Liz says.
"Me, too," Carol says. "We've been waiting for minutes."
She nods. "Way too long."
She catches Jack watching her, a slight smile on his face.
*
Liz is thankful when Carol leaves the table to go to the bathroom because she hopes the lack of one part of their threesome will make it easier not to think about... You know.
It doesn't work.
She hates Jack's mouth. When he licks his lips, she scowls at him before abruptly looking away.
"Lemon, are you okay?"
She shrugs. Meets his eyes. "Of course I am. Or maybe I'm not." She pauses. "Let me ask you something."
"Go ahead."
"Do you feel... comfortable, being out to dinner with us or is it all an act? Because I find it pretty distracting to be out with two guys who've boffed me in the same night. Did I say that too loud? If anyone overheard that, I was *joking.* Laugh-a-minute with me."
"Calm down."
"I'm calm. Just uncomfortable. Are you really not uncomfortable? I didn't let you answer before."
"If I were uncomfortable sharing meals with people I've enjoyed odd sexual experiences with, I'd always eat alone." He watches her silently for a moment. "In what way are you uncomfortable? Because I can assure you both Carol and I don't think less of you--"
"I don't think that--"
"But if you're reliving the experience and becoming aroused--"
"Oh, shut up."
"--then I'd say you should admit I was right. That you enjoy being watched during sex."
She gapes at him for a moment. Then emphatically states: "If anyone overheard that, that was also a joke. Ha ha ha ha ha." She lowers her voice. "That's not... You don't think there's a reason why a lady might feel uncomfortable about a situation like this outside of 'becoming aroused'? Why am I talking to you about this? I should have called Jenna with a hypothetical and no, I'm *not* going to explain what I mean by that. I'm not... what you think I'm becoming. No."
He raises his eyebrows. "Then what is your issue?"
"I don't have one."
"Lemon, don't impose awkwardness where none exists. And, if you are aroused--"
"I said I'm not. You're gross. And weird. Shut up."
Their food arrives. She starts eating her meal right away.
She catches him smiling at her again. She chews her steak as aggressively as she can.
*
At the end of the night, Jack offers them a ride. She doesn't protest Carol accepting it because she's *not* feeling weird about this. No. She is not. Soon, she'll forget why she ever felt weird about it. Because, you know. It's just sex. That's gotta be what Carol and Jack feel, and they are right. Just sex. And even if she find herself thinking about the sex, she can think about it like a dude does. Let it pass through her brain every seven seconds without it overtaking her general thought processes.
She and Carol are on one side, while Jack is sitting by the partition between the backseat and the driver. To say she's avoiding his eyes wouldn't be exactly true, but she's not looking at him much, either. Carol puts his hand on her leg and Liz almost pulls away because...
She's still thinking about stuff she shouldn't think of. For instance: What would it be like to have crazy sex in the back of a limo?
(In her mind, it's like the crazy sex they had in her apartment, except in the back of his limo.
She hasn't got a great imagination, which is fine because she doesn't need that on top of her memory.)
They'd probably have to kneel on the floor -- instead of her couch -- Jack behind her and her arms resting on the seat. Or she'd be on top. Or he'd get on his knees in front of her, pushing her skirt up before he starts kissing the inside of her thigh--
She is not aroused.
And she is not good at being a guy. Which, you know, is kind of surprising.
She holds Carol's hand the rest of the way to her building. When they get out, Liz vows to stop thinking about Jack now that she's officially away from him. So. Carol's mouth.
Yeah. Carol's mouth will do.
She kisses him before they go inside.
*
Liz isn't the type to wear sexy lingerie. Not that all her underwear is grody or anything, but she doesn't have sexy, silky sleepwear. Sexwear, is what it is, since you're only wearing that to get a guy all hot and bothered, right? In any case, she doesn't have sexy lingerie so, when she's in the mood for funny business with Carol, Liz goes to bed not in pajamas, but a t-shirt and, when she's done laundry, some lacy underwear.
Tonight, Liz is wearing only the t-shirt.
She leans against the doorframe of the bathroom, waggles her eyebrows. "Check this out. Someone's getting lucky." She points a thumb at herself. "That someone being me."
After she joins him on the bed, she quickly leans in and kisses him. She straddles his thighs as the kissing becomes more heated. His hands travel over her body, underneath her shirt. He cups her breast, his thumb moving back and forth over her nipple and she lets her mouth travel lower, down to his neck. His hands shift to her legs, caressing them, and she kisses her way back to his mouth. Liz stops, looks at Carol's face. She likes his face. She likes his face, and she doesn't want to think about anyone else's face. Or anyone else's anything else.
"Don't talk about... that thing that happened." To an outsider this would be a vague request, but there's nothing else he talks about during sex. And maybe he doesn't even want to talk about it tonight, but... she wants to be sure. "I've had my fill of Jack for now."
"That's what she said!" He holds up his hand for a high-five, and she eyes it warily. "Not the time?"
She shakes her head. "Not the time." He puts his hand down. "Seriously, though... I spent all night with him. I don't need to think about--"
"How he made you come--"
She covers his mouth. "Really, don't." After she pulls her hand away, she presses her lips against his. She parts his lips with her tongue, kisses him soft and slow to turn this back into something sweet. Romantic. "This can just be about us, right? You don't *need* to think about... stuff, do you?"
"I don't *need* it."
"Then shut up and do me."
He hesitates. "But I like it."
"I know you like it. But like it on another night, okay?"
She kisses him. One of his hands slips between her legs, touching her lightly. His thumb brushes over the apex of her sex, and he speaks again:
"You liked it, too."
"Please--"
"You liked the way he fucked you."
She's stopped objecting to his word usage; it's better than the other words he's put in there to describe what happened. She finds herself not even objecting to him continuing to talk about this, because she's hit by a flash of Jack underneath her, his hands on her ass as he thrusted up into her. She bites her lip, stifling a moan. His thumb presses more firmly on her clit and her head drops down to his shoulder.
"You were really hot."
She lets out a breath. "Stop--"
He pulls his thumb away. She wonders if he's teasing her or completely misunderstanding what she wants. "You're always hot--"
She snorts. "Well, of course that's true--"
"But the way you looked, the way you pushed your hips back against him--"
"Carol--"
"The way you looked when you came--"
"Take your pants off."
"You were so wet--"
She bites her lip again; presses the heel of her hand into his chest. "Seriously. Shut up and do me."
"You liked being watched, didn't you?"
The suggestion, one she's let go by unremarked on in the past, makes her bristle now that she *doesn't* want to talk about this. Think about this. About Jack. Now that it's been only a couple hours since Jack reasserted his belief that she's an exhibitionist.
She pulls away, lightly smacks his chest. "Oh God, shut up. I'm not a freak."
Carol looks dumbfounded for a moment. "Oh."
She feels immediate remorse, but she doesn't know how to undo it. She ends up stammering: "I'm not... you're not a freak. I didn't mean that you're--"
"Forget it."
"Yeah, forget it! Nothing to remember from this exchange. Am I right or am I right? Spoilers for real life coming up: I'm completely right. Right?"
He abruptly moves his leg, forcing her to lift hers up and stop straddling him. He lies down and rolls onto his side, yanking most of the blanket with him.
"So... I guess you don't want to do it."
"Nope!"
"Okay."
There's a long silence.
"Eighty-eight percent of the people on AmINormal dot com think I'm *normal*, Liz."
"I agree with them. Really! Let's have make-up sex."
He doesn't reply.
"Okay. Guess that's still a no. Make-up hug?" More silence. "Okay then."
*
The next morning, Carol is getting ready to leave for the airport. He doesn't really have to go for a couple more hours, so she knows what happened is not over. Thing is, she still doesn't know how to undo it.
"I swear I didn't mean--"
"I think you did."
"If I believed you're a freak, would I want to be with you? I don't think so. I break up with guys for little things. I broke up with a guy who wanted to watch me eat pickles. I don't mean he *wanted* to watch me eat pickles, he just thought it was weird that I refused to eat pickles in front of him. Not even that, actually. He found a jar in the closet and there were questions and it's none of his business... that's not the point. I broke up with a guy for being too handsome. Okay, he was dumb. I broke up with him because he was dumb. And if I didn't break up with you, it means I don't think you're a freak. It means I really, really like you so can we forget this?"
Carol shrugs. "We'll talk about it later, okay?"
Liz exhales. Nods. "Okay."
*
Carol doesn't call her that night, or the next day. Liz starts to become a hundred percent certain she's getting dumped and, you know, she is not okay with that. She is not okay with her relationship getting ruined by her trying to *save* it... but maybe everything would have been okay if she told Carol she didn't want to do it. Maybe they could have watched the porno she wrote based on her life and pretended that was really her, and that he was watching her get done by a series of dudes.
Why didn't she come up with this idea sooner? Why did she let sex with Jack be the best option?
Damn it.
Liz decides not to tell Jack about her relationship problems because, honestly, she doesn't want to admit that she screwed this up *anyway*. That she went through with a crazy threesome for the sake of her boyfriend but *still* couldn't keep him. Honestly, if you have sex with your friend and your boyfriend ends up wanting to leave you...
What has her life become, when she's thinking stuff like that?
When Carol finally calls, she's in her office with Pete. After she tells Carol to wait for a minute, she frantically shoos Pete out, but he strolls out in this slumpy shuffle thing he's adopted recently. Either he has some weird health problem or he's become Charlie Brown or a weird health problem has turned him into Charlie Brown. She wants to throw something at him to get him out of her office quicker, but that's probably not the nice thing to do.
She throws something at him anyway. But it's a pen and she misses, so it's not that bad.
"Hey, hey!" Liz says overly brightly when she's finally alone. "How are you doing? I'm glad you called. I've wanted you to call."
A bit of silence. Too much silence. 'I'm dumping you' silence. "Look, Liz--"
"I don't think you're a freak. You're amazing and awesome and funny. And you're really good-looking. You're the best looking guy I've had sex with in the past couple of months." He doesn't respond. "Bad threesome humor. You're better looking than Jack, I mean. I'm not making fun of you. You don't think that, right, because--"
"Liz."
"I'm making this worse, aren't I?"
"No. No, you're not making it worse."
"Because it couldn't get any worse?"
"Because complimenting me isn't worse than calling me a freak."
She exhales. "I didn't mean it. I just... I felt weird about it. I feel weird about what happened. I don't do stuff like that a lot."
"I know."
"I don't like being watched during... I'm not an exhibitionist. It wouldn't be bad if I *were*... but I'm not. But I did like it." She thinks of Jack's mouth on the inside of her thigh; Carol's on her breast. She wonders if she wants a guy with two mouths, is the thing, but that's probably not right. In fact, you know what? That would be really creepy. "I did, and I don't regret it, and I'm not mad that I did that with you. For you. But I don't need to think about it every time we fool around, okay?"
"I get it. You're right. I should have dropped it. But I thought you were into it."
"I sort of was, but I sort of wasn't. I just... wanted a break from that stuff. I'm not saying you should *never* talk about it. Just sometimes, I'd rather not." Carol doesn't reply and, in the second before she says it, she decides how to smooth this over. How to prove to him that she's not creeped out by the whole thing. "And, you know... if you want to do it again, we could. Not... I don't want to make a habit of it, but if you wanted to. I'd let that happen again."
"You don't have to."
"I want to."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." She pauses. "I want it to be Jack again, okay? Every other guy I know is too gross. You don't want to see Lutz have sex, right?"
He laughs. "Not really."
"And I can't... I don't like strangers. I don't want to pick a stranger up. And I like him. You know? I like him."
(She means that in a few different ways. Carol's probably focusing on the sexual implications.)
"I know. I know you like him."
When he's back in the city, she doesn't get to change into her t-shirt or her sexy underwear -- she had done laundry recently -- before they start fooling around. He doesn't mention anything outside of this, outside of them and her bedroom, and she feels like everything is falling into place.
*
So.
Okay.
Liz is sitting on Jack's couch, in his office, a glass of wine in her hand. Ending a day with a drink, and if there's any day on which it's good to have some alcohol, it's the day -- well, night, technically -- she's going to ask him to have sex with her again. It's not just embarrassing, it's... very, very embarrassing. But, if she's drunk enough, she won't even care. Being drunk is awesome. Maybe the fact that Jack drinks *all the time* is why he rarely feels shame.
Anyway. She is going to ask him. After another glass of wine.
If he gets all smug about it... aha! She knows how to cut that one off at the knees.
"I want you to have sex with me again, but not because of me being an exhibitionist. I'm not a freak. Don't tell Carol I said that. The freak part, not the sex part. Obviously he knows about the sex part. So, will you do it? Say you will because I don't want to have sex with some random guy to keep my boyfriend happy. Because if it's not you, it's a stranger, because I'm not boffing Frank. Nobody wants to see that. And I don't want to do it."
He seems vaguely amused, though not in a way that implies he *knows* everything, so she's not pissed off. At the moment. "I assume there's a beginning to this story."
"Do you want to hear it?"
"As streamlined as possible."
"Well... Carol said that he thought I might, you know, enjoy being watched. During sex. I snapped at him--"
"I assume you called him a freak?"
"In a way. And he got pretty upset. So, in order to smooth things over, I thought, you know. Why not do it again? Why not show him I completely accept his weirdo sexual kink? Don't tell him I said that, either, okay?"
"I won't." He pauses. "You shouldn't do something you don't want to do in order to apologize to Carol."
"I never said I didn't want to do it. I mean... I'm not *wanting* to do it in a... Okay. I want... I don't want. But, yeah, I thoroughly enjoyed myself, as you said. If doing it again is, if it's a thing he would want and I don't not want, so then you could say I want the thing, too--" She exhales heavily. "I am making no sense. Point is, I'm not doing this against my will. I'm fine with, you know. That doesn't mean I *need* to do it." She waves her hand dismissively. She almost knocks the wine glass out of her hand, and she's reminded of that part in My Big Friggin' Wedding where that one jerk's super wasted stepfather accidentally smacks the beer out of his own hand. Crap, is she that drunk? She doesn't think she is, but she did drink a little more than she usually would during this sort of 'late night in the office with Jack' situation. "I don't..." She puts her free hand down on the couch so it won't smack into her alcohol anymore. "I'm not an exhibitionist. Slightly an exhibitionist, or whatever you might think about that. So... you're in, right? You already offered, so you have to say yes."
"I don't have to say yes." There's a pause, in which she imagines awkward night after awkward night spent trying to pick up guys in bars until Carol realizes she's *not* sexy. "I'm going to help you," he clarifies as her expression becomes panicked, "but I don't have to. That, Lemon, is why my friendship is valuable."
She relaxes. Allows herself to joke. "This is what you do? Lend your junk out to your friends?"
"The female ones, if they don't have a major deformity."
"So my feet *don't* count as a major deformity?"
"You seem to have the issue under control."
"Carol recommended a great podiatrist, and he prescribed me this amazing antifungal cream--"
"Lemon."
"So you'll do me while my boyfriend watches but you *don't* want to hear about my fungus issues?"
He stares blankly at her. Says, as if this were the most obvious thing in the world, "Yes."
"Okay then. Can I ask you a question?"
"You may do so, yes."
"What do you get out of this?"
"I've told you what I get out of this; assisting you and--"
"No, I mean..." She hesitates. "Do you... like being watched during sex?"
He shrugs. "Not particularly. But I must admit that I do enjoy, in various avenues and ways, exhibiting my superior skills."
She rolls her eyes. Several moments later, she sits up straight. "Are you saying you're better at sex than Carol?"
"All men believe they're the greatest lover their various partners have experienced. Most of them are wrong; I, however, am not."
"Carol is your friend, you know."
"I didn't say anything negative about him; being a lesser lover than I am is nothing to be ashamed of."
She sighs. "Yeah. Whatever."
He seems vaguely amused again, though this time in the way like he thinks he *knows* something. And maybe he does. But. Everyone knows she didn't hate having sex with Jack. Well, she and Carol and Jack know that. That's not everyone.
(She is a little too drunk.)
She's not going to compare the two of them, but. Jack does know what he's doing.
Jack swirls the scotch around in his glass. "May I ask you something?"
"You can, sure."
"If you're not an exhibitionist--"
"Come on, Jack, stop with the if. You know how annoying that is, right, when you act like you know me better than I know myself and you're *wrong?*"
He doesn't respond at first. Then, flatly: "You didn't derive sexual pleasure from being watched."
"Thank you! That even sounded sincere."
"Then what did you enjoy about it?"
"Do I actually have to spell it out? The sex. I liked the sex. You know I did. I like having sex with Carol. You're not terrible at sex, I guess." She's making an attempt to deflate his ego, but it doesn't seem to work because he still looks pretty self-satisfied. "So it was a bunch of decent sex, and I got to make a guy I'm dating happy. Which I don't get to do a lot. So those are all the reasons why I liked it. Getting watched was not a factor in why I enjoyed it. Okay?"
"Okay."
"And, before we do it again, I'm going to thank you. So you don't ask me to thank you a couple of weeks after it happens. So. Thank you."
"Then I'll say, 'you're welcome' in advance."
"So you won't say it while we're doing it."
"I said that because I could tell you were about to come."
"This conversation is over." She pauses. "Why did you say I should be grateful? Was that about sex or you being an awesome friend?"
He considers this for a moment. "I don't recall, but I assume both."
"Also... I don't think the three of us should hang out for a while after the... thing. Going out to dinner with the two of you... I felt weird and distracted. So let's not have dinner until the, you know, the thing is far enough in the past that I don't... whatever. So it's not on my mind the whole night."
"You were becoming aroused."
"Jack... shut up. Seriously, shut up. But also, thank you."
"You're welcome."
He leans forward to pour more wine into her glass.
END