The Dramatic Spiel of Arthur and Chardonnay~ (7,124 views)

Arthur shivered in the air. It wasn’t particularly cold, it was California, but the morning air was always cool and bitter. Especially round this time of year, but the weather was shifting and it was almost spring again. Or what it already spring? The dates and seasons kind of melded together when he wasn’t in school anymore. He didn’t know how he felt about that. It was so weird, but he was getting used to it. It’d already been nearly a year since he graduated. And he was going well at the theater, in life... sort of...

He stifled a yawn behind his free hand as he approached the apartment complex’s mailbox. He was on the second elevation, and there were three floors in total. So he went to the box and found his apartment number. He put his coffee on top of the box and unlocked the little square devoted to him, and inside were a few letters. It wasn’t much, mostly notifications. He was glad there weren’t any bills, those he was expecting though, so at the same time it made his stomach churn when he didn’t see any. He liked to square out his bills straight away – when it came to matters of money, Arthur never liked to squander it or put it off to the last minute. He wanted the bills paid and his money gone so he never had to think about it too much. He heard footsteps to the side but didn’t acknowledge them, shoving the papers into the baggy pocket of his hoodie before he reached for the coffee on the top of the mailbox unit.

”Mr. Summers?” He furrowed his brow when he heard someone acknowledging him and turned to see the person who had approached. He was tall, in his mid-thirties, and had a five o’clock shadow. He was pretty nice, his name was Monson and he had the only apartment directly beside Arthur’s (he was fortunate enough to have an end) though Arthur had only talked to him... once when he moved in? If that? He looked tired and Arthur wondered if he was in the way of his mailbox.

”Arthur’s fine. And sorry, I’ll move –“

”No, uh, okay Arthur, well I have something to say...” Monson said, clearing his throat. Arthur didn’t’ know what the fuck it could be until a smirk crawled onto his face and he started to snicker. ”Congrats on getting laid. Sounds like your girlfriend really likes you.”

It took a moment to register the things he said. And, when he did register them, he was mortified. His face went scarlet as he tried to sputter out some kind of response. Then he remembered his hair was disheveled and he looked sweaty, probably, and smelled like sex and holy shit how loud were they? On a weekly basis? He’d never been confronted by Monson before but he’d also never cared to make himself quiet or tell Chardonnay to. In fact, he loved to hear her moan as loud as she could, because it made him throb, the sound, and turned him on even more. But when he encouraged her to be loud, how often had Monson heard – oh God. Oh God, he was worse than Chad, wasn’t he?! Chad! That stupid manwhore he used to live with! He didn’t bother correcting him to say Chardonnay wasn’t his girlfriend, either – he didn’t want his neighbor to think he was that much of a slut that he hooked up with random girls. And he wasn’t about to give him a rundown of his and Chardonnay’s fuckbuddy status.

”Normally I don’t care, cause I mean, sex happens, right? But uh, last night you were really loud. And went really long.” Monson continued. He seemed to find Arthur’s reaction funny. ”So I was just wondering if you could, maybe, tone it down a little? On Saturday nights, my daughter comes over, and I don’t want her to overhear. I have headphones so a little is fine, sometimes, but...”

”I’m so sorry,” Arthur sputtered out. His coffee was still on the mailbox as he hid his face in his hands. Oh shit. It was his fault, right? He’d suggested eating her out and as much as he loved doing that to her and hearing her moan, and feeling her fingers tug at his hair, but how much of that had this poor guy heard?! Holy shit. He wished his walls were soundproof. And himself... oh, God, he could remember what he’d been doing when she was doing the reverse on him. He mostly said – or, more accurately, moaned -- swears with no regard paid to his volume. If this guy’s daughter had been over... how old was she? When Monson had introduced himself when Arthur had moved in, he’d been with his (now ex) wife and the baby at his heels, she was Adelaide’s age. If she was there and heard the shit that spewed from his mouth he’d feel atrocious. He probably could have said Chardonnay's name, instead, but even that would be awkward for a child to overhear – plus she had a long damn name! Even though he hadn’t said it during sex, he thought it, a lot more than he wanted to admit.

He was still hiding his face and Monson laughed. ”Look, look bro, its fine. I miss sex, haven’t had a good lay since my wife left me,” okay, that was more than Arthur wanted to know, but he supposed that was only fair since Monson had heard more than he’d wanted to know last night. ”... just, you know, if you could muffle your volume a little bit, I’d appreciate it. Or I’ll have to complain to the landlord and I don’t want that, I just don’t want my daughter to hear that.”

”R—right,” Arthur mumbled, ”I’m sorry, I didn’t – didn’t know that – that people could, uh, hear, er, sorry, I,” and again, the eloquence he had at work vanished into thin air. Monson laughed, again, and grabbed Arthur’s coffee for him, offering it to the blushing man. Arthur accepted it, thanked him and apologized again, before he bolted right back to his apartment.

Once he was inside he groaned in embarrassment and put the papers and his coffee down, pulling on the strings of his hood until it completely covered his entire face save his nose. He never thought about his neighbors overhearing. Monson was understanding about it but that didn’t make him feel better. It made him feel worse. How much had he heard them before this? For the first time he hated the layout of his apartment. He was just thankful he was on the end at least... at least no one else could have heard... right?

He slowly let his hood fall off of his head and ran his fingers through his hair. As much as he wanted to regret his idea last night, he definitely didn’t, because that was hot. Especially when he went down on her, he really liked that for some reason, and he wasn’t sure why, he just did. So he didn’t regret it, not even the volume he just... wished Monson hadn’t heard.

He peered into the small hallway before his room and entered it, standing at the door. He could see Chardonnay half-asleep in his bed and folded his arms over his chest, trying to block out the memories he got when he looked at the end of the bed, when he remembered what he’d done and how her lips had felt descending on his body. He really had turned into a god damn slut, hadn’t he? She was a lump on his bed, completely covered by his covers. It was kind of childish, but then again, that was exactly what he’d done when she’d laughed at him after she saw he owned plaid boxers. It was an amusement he hoped she was now over – he was pretty sure he’d been in plaid boxers last night, but she hadn’t said anything.

”Hey, Princess. Wake up. I need to talk to you.” He said. He leaned against the doorframe, waiting for her to stir. He kept his distance in case the early wakeup call made her violent.

He normally didn’t like to wake Chardonnay up and, if he wasn’t so off put about Monson approaching him, he might have felt bad. She definitely didn’t look as composed as she usually did, her hair splayed out across his pillow and her arms holding the blanket up towards her body. She looked so sleepy, so comfortable. She could complain about the quality of his bed all she wanted, but she was always like this in the mornings when he saw her before he left for work. He exhaled and watched as she shifted in disappointment, slowly coming back to reality.

”No. You’re going to be awake now. This is important.” He said. His tone was pretty serious, so he hoped that she got the picture and woke herself up more after hearing it. He stepped closer to the bed when she didn’t start throwing things and came to a stop in front of her, looking over at her as she smothered her face in his pillow. He rolled his eyes and hoped she didn’t get slobber all over it. He pulled his phone out of the pockets of his jeans and scanned through the texts. Nothing from his sister or Maxine, but there was still the message from Erin he’d never bothered to open because he knew Chardonnay was coming over and had gotten too distracted to look at his phone. He looked at the time and now it was 8:20.

”So I went to get my mail, and my neighbor stopped me to say hi. And he said that – that,” he felt his cheeks beginning to fluster as he tried to say something. ”He had a noise complaint. So, yeah, this is important and it involves you. So wake up already!”

Well, at least she was finally up. Arthur shifted on his feet and folded his arms across his chest as her nostrils flared. He really wished she could just be sleeping now... she was always so much easier to handle when she was asleep. He expected her to react to his statement but not the way she did – and he grit his teeth in anger as she accused it all of being his fault. What the hell! She was the one who snapped and yelled at him so often! And even so that wasn’t the issue here, how the fuck could she think that was the issue here?! Their yelling wasn’t half as loud as – as – his cheeks flushed when she told him it wasn’t important and yanked the cover sup over her head.

What the fuck?!

He reached over and yanked the covers off of her head so that she couldn’t hide anymore.

”That’s not what he heard, Princess! You think he would’ve cared about yelling?! Literally everyone in this fucking complex has fights! It’s not uncommon!” He spat. Even trying to say what he was about to say made him fluster, so he sputtered over his words for a second, before he continued, ”It’s – you – he, he overheard – he heard us fucking moaning is what he heard! And yes that is important because I live here and I’m not going to be kicked out over this! I bust my ass for this place and as much as I like sex I – I – I can’t lose this apartment! And, and he has a daughter, and she – I don’t even want to think about her hearing, just, ugh,”

He let the blankets fall to Chardonnay’s waist and hid his red face in his hands. ”This is a serious problem.”

Finally, she was getting the picture. Arthur kneaded his head as he waited for her retort. At least he wasn’t the only one flustered here – he watched with minimal satisfaction as she sputtered for words and her cheeks started to color. He took a deep breath to try and calm himself as he braced himself for her retort.

And she was blaming him?! Seriously?! Fucking seriously?! His jaw dropped slightly as she sputtered out an angry accusation. How could they be heard? Well, anyone who had ears was perfectly capable of hearing it! And as for his daughter Arthur was thankful that she hadn’t been there tonight but decided not to mention that yet – it added to the severity of the situation, didn’t it? When she spat out that question -- why are you so loud in bed – he felt his cheeks go from pink to red as he tried to think of something intelligent to say but all that came out were more stammers. He couldn’t help it, he just couldn’t not let out a sound. It came out of him naturally, and how loud he was usually depended on what she was doing to him or how loud she was – if she was there moaning, he felt less ashamed about his own sounds, and it really was a vicious cycle. His hands tightened against his arms, as he looked for a few seconds like he wanted to say something but has lost the words to do so with. He didn’t even have the motivation to snap at her for calling his place cheap – which offended him, but he was used to her spoiled attitude – and just took another few deep breaths.

”Don’t pin this on me! Have you heard yourself in the sheets? You’re just as loud as I am! Louder, probably!” Not that it ever bothered him before. While normally her voice made him angry, he considered every sound of pleasure she let out a victory. So to speak. And the image of someone else hearing those noises coming from her – whether or not they were intentionally listening – made him irritated. He was embarrassed about himself, too, about his own sounds being audible to Monson, but he didn’t want to think about that. ”It’s not like I have a choice! I don’t have a fucking gag in my mouth! I just, I can’t help it if I’m loud! Leave me alone!” He groaned, thinking about last night when the only sounds in the room where his own moans and swears. He ran his hands over his face and flopped down onto the bed beside Chardonnay, his elbows on his knees and his hands obscuring his face. ”Even with the thin walls, other people here have sex. Probably... we’re just... he’s going to think I’m a man-whore. He probably already does. Ugh...”

At least they were now in agreement of the gravity of the situation.

Arthur ran his fingers through his hair, the strands filtering between his fingertips as he thought about what to do. How long had this been going on? They’d been sleeping together for almost a full year now. The first time they’d slept together, the Saturday before Lockwood’s presentation, was in early May. So it’d been going on for over a year... how long had his neighbor been able to hear? He said he ‘normally didn’t mind it’. But what was he thinking the first night? Wasn’t he surprised? Oh, he wouldn’t tell his sister about this would he? Arthur didn’t see that happening but Susan had introduced herself to Monson when he was moving into the place his sophomore year of college. They’d been very nice... so what had he thought, that Saturday night, when he heard their first time? Were they loud back then? Arthur remembered her making sounds but he didn’t know... he didn’t think so? They weren’t that loud, at first, they were shier around one another. But now that they’d been hooking up for almost a year now, they knew each other’s bodies and, at least in the bed, didn’t hold much of anything back anymore.

”He’s not that type of guy!” was Arthur’s immediate rebuttal to her comment about him getting off to them, but then again he really didn’t know. He’d met the guy all of one time... two including now... and his wife had left him. Why Arthur wasn’t sure. They fought a lot towards the end and Arthur never complained about any noise – he just did his own thing while he heard the muffled squabbling of a couple falling apart through the wall. He did say he sympathized and wasn’t getting laid... and that he didn’t mind... at the time, he’d thought Monson was just trying to be cool but... he groaned and spared a glance back over at Chardonnay. Who knew? Maybe he did get off to it? If he found out that ever happened he wouldn’t hesitate to punch the guy in the face, even if it was their fault in the first place for being so loud. ”I mean, we could just... muffle it?” How? With gags? That wasn’t sexy. Even if it was for a practical reason, imagining her underneath him in a gag just... turned him off? And he didn’t like things enclosed around his mouth unless he was hiding, or unless he was kissing someone. They could only kiss one another so much during sex – he was flexible but not that flexible, and if he tried to kiss her to stifle a moan he was worried he’d bite through her lip (which would not be sexy at all). ”Or just try to be quieter?” But that didn’t sound much more appealing – for one, that meant he’d have to rely on his ability to do so (which he very much doubted) and for two, he didn’t want her to have to stifle her sounds. Half of the reason he liked sex with her were the damn noises he got out of her!

”They’re not nosy. They’re just trying to sleep. I went through this when I lived with Chad.” He sighed and felt bad for his neighbor. He remembered how awkward it was hearing that guy going at it, the girls he was with were always so loud, too, and more often than not it left him in a blushing and bothered state that he hated more than anything. At her comment about it sounding worse through a wall, he rose his brows and looked over at her. Worse? That was an interesting word choice. He was fairly sure, though, that the wall didn’t make them any worse or better... maybe distant sounding, sure. ”When I bought the apartment, I wasn’t planning on sleeping with anyone, ever. Especially you. It just kind of happened. And now, he can hear us, and we don’t have a way to make sure we don’t traumatize him because of it.”

He responded to her question with a simple ”no”, not really friends with him but... oh, what the hell did he know? Maybe she was right. That thought made him shiver. He wished he did know Monson like that, he wished that he could know that the guy didn’t have any illicit thoughts about them. What the hell had he thought, looking at his face when he went to get mail, seeing his hair in the state it was in now? And after last night... God, maybe he shouldn’t have suggested oral. They’d gone longer than usual, and louder than usual, and though the memories made his body tingle, they were now almost tainted because Monson had overheard them. Oh for fuck’s sake, the guy had heard him climax! That was a sound he never wanted anyone but Chardonnay to hear, and that was only because he’d heard her climax, so it was kind of a... trade off of sorts.

What the hell could they do? They couldn’t keep quiet. He couldn’t exactly get his walls to be quieter. Either they could try sex in the shower... which he was kind of curious about, but the memories he had of being knocked into the tub put a damper on that, a bit... the shower wound mask the noise, right? And besides, the shower wasn’t directly touching a wall that was connected to another apartment. But as much as he wanted to try that sometime, he certainly didn’t want every time to be in the shower.

Her suggested remedy was... more of a long term solution, but it shocked Arthur to hear that from her. She was seriously inviting him to her place? He’d never been there and he knew she lived a long ways away, so it’d be a trip and he was pretty sure he’d get lost. He’d never considered going to her place because she was never going to allow it. What would she, a spoiled princess, want someone like him going to her home for? Even if it was for sex she could just come here, she always had. She’d even let her personal comfort suffer for the sake of not inviting him to her place.

So... he was lost for words for a second, as he tried to process what she said. Where did she live? Was it actually an hour away, or did she just take an hour because she was getting ready for twenty minutes prior? He didn’t know her address, either.

”You’re... inviting me to your place? I don’t even know where you live. I mean, sure, I guess, if you give me an address, and a date.” He said, trying not to act as... thrown off by her suggestion as he was. It was only because she wanted them to have sex without having to worry about any nosy neighbors. Still... he was half expecting her to just grab her clothes and get ready to leave. He pictured her calling off this fuckbuddy relationship and never texting him again. But she still wanted to sleep with him, despite that. He turned away from her and rubbed his jawline, covering his mouth in the process, not wanting her to see the unintended twitch of his mouth. It was just for sex. It didn’t matter that she was inviting him to her place – which was probably way fancier than it needed to be. And that was exactly why she didn’t need to see that the offer had actually made him happy.

He cleared his throat and the neutral expression was back, as he turned to look over at Chardonnay. His eyes were drawn to that little tattoo he could see behind her ear, just the cusp of it, masked by messy hair and an earlobe. He didn’t know why she had gotten a tattoo there, of all places, but he supposed the reason his ears were pierced was a mystery to her, too. There was plenty they didn’t know about each other. ”And uh, I can only come over Saturday nights and Sunday nights or... Sunday mornings I guess. That’s a long-ass drive back to Salem, so.”

She didn’t change her mind and Arthur was half expecting her to – so he sighed of half relief, half exhaustion as he removed his hand from his face and rolled his eyes. If it was such a goddamn long drive why did she still come out here? Her snippiness made him want to retort with that, but the reason she came over was the sex. An hour drive for sex... well, he wouldn’t mind. He’d always liked long car rides, and though the gas money would add up, once a week wouldn’t be too bad, right? Either Saturdays or Sundays he’d make the trek, depending on his schedule with Susan and Adelaide. He could just put on some music and cruise on the highway. Actually, it didn’t sound like such a bad idea, the more he thought about it.

”I actually don’t mind long drives that much. It’s just... I have work.” He said, though he did wonder what would happen if Susan ever spontaneously showed up and he wasn’t there. Well, if that was the case, better he be out than have Chardonnay in his bed. And then, of course, he could just tell her he went out with some friends. She’d be ecstatic to hear he had more friends. Of course she’d probably ask about budding relationships and the thought nearly made him roll his eyes. She was too nosy for her own good. He’d answer no, and that’d be the end of that discussion.

Chardonnay seemed kind of hesitant in her tone but Arthur decided not to question it. He didn’t want to push her to change her mind and he didn’t want to go without sex again. Now that he was doing it regularly, he didn’t want to stop. ”And who the fuck would want your address? The only person I can think of is my sister, and she doesn’t know I still talk to you and she’s never finding that out. She never shuts up about you, though, when she catches you on TV. She won’t shut up about how one of her students is opening a restaurant’,” he sighed. ”But no. I won’t give anyone your address. I’ll probably get lost on the way there, anyway... so what is it?”

Once again she was doing everything... unexpected. When she offered for him to use her shower he was pretty sure he was going to be pranked soon. She was going to laugh at him and tell him that he was reading into this too much. That who did he think he was kidding, he was scum, like hell she’d ever let him crawl his way into her bed, into her apartment, into her life. He supposed she’d let him crawl inside of her but all he really was to her was a pleasure device. Kind of like a dildo, but with opinions. That was odd, to equate himself to. He stared at her smirk, expecting her to start snickering because she couldn’t take the joke anymore. His hands clenched the fabric of his sheets, a little too tightly.

But she didn’t. She told him not to rack up her hot water bill, and he snorted in response. He didn’t take long showers, generally, he usually just washed himself and hummed under his breath (or sang, when he was alone) and then got out. It was she who took twenty plus years to do whatever the hell it was she did in the shower. Though that thought was dangerous, and he started to imagine what she did in the shower, completely naked with water pouring down her body, so he shook his head and took a deep breath. Fortunately she reacted to what he’d said about his sister and that was a definite way to kill the thoughts simmering in his mind.

”She says she’s proud. I think you’re one of her favorites. Why, I have no fucking clue.” He shrugged. It wasn’t like it mattered. She’d likely never see Chardonnay again, unless she saved up to go to the restaurant (even then Chardonnay could avoid her) or if there was some reunion. But regardless, he wasn’t that concerned. At her hand wave and long spiel about how she’d text him and he had to do some do-hickey code something or other he furrowed his brows. ”what... the fuck? I have no idea what you just said but I’ll figure it out when we get to it.” he glanced at the clock on his nightstand. It was now after 9, and he was surprised they’d been talking for so long, but... whatever. He rubbed the back of his neck and went towards his closet, beginning to fish through it for some clothes to get into after his shower was done. He tossed a blue plaid shirt and a pair of jeans onto the bed, not really spending much time thinking about what he was grabbing. ”Do you want to take a shower before you go?”

Of course she’d used most of his hot water. Again. She’d left that afternoon and Arthur spent it in the shower himself, getting himself cleaned up and dressed for the day. It was still odd for him to think about what had happened last night. He wound up spending his afternoon off watching anime and cleaning his apartment. He definitely... definitely needed to wash his sheets. He wasn’t sure if any of... if any of that got on his sheets but if so he wasn’t prepared for it to stain or smell or anything of the sort. So he’d washed his sheets thoroughly and made his bed again.

The next time she came over was after one more week. He was surprised she hadn’t given him her address, but it was on a day that he had to work the next morning and he really wasn’t willing to go to her place that evening. Still, when she came over, it was a good learning experience, because they’d tried to be quiet.

At first he almost forgot, until she reminded him about the neighbor, and he almost kicked himself for forgetting. If she wasn’t already mostly naked underneath him his mood probably would have been gone, but he was already aroused and she still wanted to try so he wasn’t about to stop there.

He didn’t realize how much he swore during sex until he tried to censor himself, and lower his volume for the sake of anyone who might overhear. It was very distracting and took all of his focus. Though the feeling of being inside her was still just as amazing as it usually was, he didn’t have her vocals to go off of. He’d memorized the little squeaks and noises she made when he was doing something exceptionally well, and now the noises were taken away, or muffled by her hand over her mouth. He could still touch her and it still felt good but overall he had his doubts about it. Without her sounds he didn’t know what was working and what wasn’t... and it drove him crazy but not in the good way. And as for his vocals, he had to press his face down into the pillow to stifle noises, and all he could smell was sweat and he was pretty sure at one point he’d accidently inhaled some of her hair. His noises were reduced to grunts and he wasn’t sure how sexy Chardonnay found them but he thought they were just weird coming out of him. Not that he was particularly attached to his moans, but she seemed to react well to them. He managed to finish but it wasn’t satisfying, or not as satisfying as it usually was, especially when he saw Monson outside the next day. Monson didn’t say anything, but who knew, right?

This Saturday evening he was going to Chardonnay’s place for the first time and he was actually distracted by the thought at work – so distracted that he’d misheard three conversations one of the part-timers tried to have with him. The end of the shift couldn’t come quick enough and he was out of there by 7 today – his boss dismissed him, saying he’d handle closing – so he told Chardonnay he’d be heading over soon.

It was... weird to pick out what to wear. Normally he didn’t care, but he didn’t want to look like a total slob when he went to her apartment. He didn’t know who she lived with in that building. When it came to just Chardonnay seeing him he was fine in whatever, but her comments about plaid really got on his nerves. So he decided to just wear a dark blue button down and jeans, with his black studs in his ears and no other accessories on his person. It wasn’t formal, per say, but it wasn’t exactly casual either. He almost wore his glasses but decided against it, only because he suspected they might just be more of a pain than they were worth. He grabbed his old backpack from school and threw his sweatpants, baggy shirt, and a change of boxers into it. He tried not to blush as he thought about what was going to happen at her place and just threw the bag into his backseat.

The drive down was long and he expected to be nervous on it, to be thinking about where he was going or why he was going there. But instead he found more entertainment with the music, singing along to some catchy pop song that came on. All of these stupid songs were so catchy, that was why he hated most of them. The view on the highway was actually pretty scenic though he did come down right at the end of rush hour, so there was more traffic than he would have liked. He wound up fiddling with the radio then, just for something to do.

As he got closer to the city she lived in he pulled out his phone and scanned the directions she’d texted him. He was confused, because he’d never been in this part of California. Was he even still in California? The cars around him looked way fancier than his did. Already, he felt out of place, lost for an entirely different reason than he’d been before. He felt like he didn’t belong among the fancy cars and formally dressed people. He exhaled and continued to follow the instructions. By the time he pulled into the condos that Chardonnay lived in, his palms were sweaty as he stared up at the imposing building.

At the time he’d moved to Metric, he thought that it was fancy, a little over the top, but overall not that bad. It was luxury that was practical, sort of, for a prestigious academy that was. But these condos... god, they looked like even the windows were more expensive than anything he’d ever owned in his life. He exhaled, and found his way into the parking lot, parking his car off towards the back. He definitely didn’t want to be up front, even if it was more inconvenient. He was already conscious of being judged for being lower-class – he didn’t want everyone driving past to judge him on that, too.

Before he left his car he fixed his hair – which was combed, but might have come off a little during the ride, he didn’t know. He walked into the lobby of the building and immediately felt underdressed in jeans and his button down, and wished he had his glasses to hide behind. Most of the men around him were in suits and slacks and he bit down on his lower lip as he looked at his phone, pretending to be distracted. At least his phone wasn’t a dinosaur. It was fancy, just like everyone else’s, so he didn’t get too many odd looks for that. He could still feel eyes on him, though, even as he slipped into the elevator, and finally let out the breath he’d been holding.

He glared at his reflection in the shiny elevator doors as they closed him in. The backpack on his shoulders definitely didn’t help his cause. If any men had bags downstairs, they’d been briefcases. He looked like a college student who’d just wandered onto the property.

He looked at the instructions she’d given him, again, and figured out which button to press. Second to last... how high up did she live? The elevator began its ascent and he watched the number climb. He felt nervous for more reasons than just sex. God, he was such an outsider here. He was beginning to regret coming over, only because he felt so... out of place. He liked the simplicity of his apartment, of her coming over... he hated Monson for having confronted him about the noise, in that moment.

He got to her floor and the elevator asked him for a code. He copied over the one she’d texted him and the door opened He hesitantly looked at the hallway, until the elevator dinged at him and he scurried out so that it could continue to elevate people to their floors. He approached her door and saw a window in the hall, a window that gave him a generous view of the parking lot below.

He rang her doorbell and prayed this wasn’t some prank and that this wasn’t some spoiled friend of hers who would shriek and punch him and call security for getting up here. God... how expensive was this place? How much did Chardonnay spend to live here? The lobby was bigger than his whole apartment. He felt self-conscious even as the door opened and Chardonnay stood in front of him. It was odd to see her in pants and a button-down – it looked really good on her – and he gave her a once over before he stepped into the threshold, uncharacteristically quiet as he looked around her place.

Was he supposed to take off his shoes? Was she expecting to go right to her bedroom? Where... where was her bedroom? There were doors around him, and it looked spotless, but it was too... TV perfect. He felt like if he breathed he’d rack up a bill for thousands of dollars. He was so fucking intimidated, and he hated it. He expected to come over here and make fun of her for wasting money but... holy shit. Susan’s apartment was maybe half the size of this place. His place was a third, maybe. And the apartment he’d grown up in... that was way less than a third. Maybe a fifth, if that. How did anyone even exist in so much space?

”Jesus fucking Christ, Princess. Is this your house or a goddamn luxury hotel?” He said. ”I don’t even know where your bedroom is. You’re gonna have to play tour guide.”

He was oblivious to her eyes roaming his body and outfit and instead focused on her condo the more he stepped into it. It was so spacious... holy fuck. He walked through the foyer and peeked around the corner, into the kitchen. It was so... shiny? Were kitchens supposed to shine like that? How long did it take her to actually clean this place? When she said she cleaned it herself he was filled with... some sort of respect, if only for that. Actually, it was expensive to run this place, to afford to live here, but he just... he thought it was such an excess. So many other people could use the money that went into this house... she was single (...was she? She better be if she was hooking up with him, he thought, he wasn’t willing to be her side-guy)... and she had all of this space. He could get the luxury, but the space? Was this much needed for one woman?

He was distracted until she came around in front of him and he felt her arm go around his neck and pull him into a kiss. As distracted as he was by the place he kissed her back, his hands moving to her hips, though even as he did so he didn’t move to deepen it right away or start ripping her clothes right off. He was still distracted, though when he heard that little groan that came out of her mouth he was pulled away from his wandering thoughts and focused entirely on her. He missed hearing that noise coming from her.

He wasn’t used to her talking to him between kisses, or him talking to her, and he focused on her tone rather than her words at first. She sounded flirtatious, seductive... and God was it distracting. His eyes moved down to her lips as she spoke, he was almost able to feel her breath ghosting across his skin.

”Yeah, yeah. A tour guide is not sexy,” He said. Sure, he’d had fantasies about her, all right, and a tour guide hadn’t been one of them. Still, he kissed her back when she did, moving his hips against hers. He felt her hands exploring his torso and his skin was starting to grow warmer under her touch. Her hands were travelling lower and lower and when he felt her grope him he moaned against her lips, his body moving towards her touch. Before he’d stopped himself from doing that, out of shyness, but now he’d gotten over that stage of their fuckbuddy relationship. They’d had sex countless times now – for almost a year now – and for fuck’s sake, she’d had it in her mouth. So even though he felt nervous, it was because of the fact he was in a new place. Not necessarily about her touching him (though her seeing him naked outside of the bedroom was another story).

He looked into her eyes when she pulled away from the kiss, missing the feeling of her lips on his, his heart beginning to pick up when she bat her eyelashes at him and moved away from him to lead the way towards her room. Normally being flirted with made him uncomfortable, but when she did it to him it was arousing and all he wanted to do was grab her and kiss her again, God, she didn’t usually do this to him. It must be because she didn’t want his eyes wandering around his apartment, getting distracted, but maybe he should pretend to get distracted more often if it meant she’d move her hips like that, and look over at him like that. God, that look sent his blood rushing downwards and made him want to kiss her. Now.

He followed her, not even able to accept this was real. A hot girl, arguably the hottest girl he’d ever met, was leading him through her expensive-ass condo, through the fancy-schmansy rooms, towards her bedroom in the back (he presumed, because they were moving through her living room now and kept going farther). He wasn’t distracted, thankfully, by the pictures handing in her living room. Had he made awkward eye contact with her parents in them, well, his buzz would have started to fade. He could still hardly believe any of this could have happened. When he was in college, he never thought he’d set foot in a building like this. It still made him squirm, but the girl in front of him, the girl who wanted him, she made it hard to remember where he was...

But soon they reached her room and he didn’t let himself think about the room – yet – and just grabbed her hand and spun her around so he could press his lips against hers, hungrily, his hand moving from hers towards her waist. He slid his fingers around to the front of her pants and started to unfasten them, more accustomed to how removing pants went than skirts (though it was a different feeling, taking them off of another person). He pulled away from the kiss and his breath tangled with hers, as he looked at her, eyes dark. But before he could stop himself his eyes moved to the room he was in, taking in the curtains around her bed, the walls, the carpet. He looked like he wanted to say something, and he very much did, but then he shifted his hands and felt her underwear behind the fly of her slacks. ”you’re such a goddamn Princess,” he sighed out, but didn’t want to complain now. Not when he was just starting to feel aroused, not when she was here, looking so seductive, wanting him to fuck her. He could complain about how extravagant she had it later, after he’d gotten off.

He pressed his lips to hers again, his hands wandering into her pants as they pushed the material aside. It’d been a week since their last sexual encounter, but it wasn’t satisfying, because they’d had to keep quiet. At least one perk about her living like this was that there was no chance anyone would overhear them. And he was desperate to hear her moan for him again.

He wasn’t used to the room, and still hadn’t taken everything in yet. Especially not when he got Chardonnay’s bra off and her chest was right there, touchable, and even when they were on the bed she was the one on her back underneath him. He could feel his knees sinking into the mattress, which felt much different than his own, but this was fine. It was almost like a cloud underneath him. Which was probably better than a bunch of springs...

He wondered where her box of condoms was, as she got to his boxers and started to tug on the material. He had brought a few just in case, of course, but they were in his backpack out in the foyer and he really didn’t want to have to leave the bed to go get them. Especially not when he could feel her fingertips brushing against the skin underneath, and her legs brushing against his. He moaned and while she was kissing his neck and shoulder, he had one hand on a breast but the other on her thigh, turned around so that it was just under her ass, pulling her leg up slightly. The condoms were lost from his mind as she got the boxers down past his waist, almost completely off, and her hands were so close to it he was about to roll out of his underwear when he heard a voice.

It certainly wasn’t Chardonnay’s.

He yelped and immediately rolled off of Chardonnay, his heart pounding erratically in his chest as he pulled his boxers back up over his ass and whirled around. For a second he was expecting to see a roommate of Chardonnay’s. He’d never asked if she lived alone, per say, and it was possible that she thought she was alone but her roommate had come early? Though she didn’t seem to be the type who had a roommate... but still.

He didn’t see a person looking at them in horror or disgust. He scanned the room, taking it in fully for the first time. The blinds were down but it looked like the walls had huge windows. His breathing was heavy as it finally landed on a mirror over towards the end of the bed, on the other side of the room. He furrowed his brow as he saw himself reflected in it, and blinked. He looked like such a mess – his cheeks were flushed, as was the skin of his chest. His nipples looked stiff, as did his boxers, which he just blushed more about. The studs on his ears stood out against the newfound redness of his ears. Chardonnay was beside him but he could only see her leg and a big of her hand from this angle. Wait... the mirror... what had it done? It critiqued his ass. Was it really that pale and thin? Self-consciously he shifted, conscious of how his butt felt on the bed, but before he could think on it too much he remembered.

The mirror gave him critique. It talked. Holy fuck. She still had the talking mirror. He remembered seeing it when they were in High School and paired on that dumb project where they had to raise a sack of flour (ironic, given their relationship now). It had insulted him and then she screamed at him, and she obviously used the mirror for ass-kissing to make her feel better about herself. He’d thought she’d grown out of that by now.

”Wait... you still have that thing?” He asked, blinking his eyes as he looked at the frame of it, the way he was reflected in it, the way the bedsheets shifted beside him as she moved. It was probably because he was so embarrassed about being mostly naked, and relieved she didn’t have a roommate, so he didn’t know how else to react, that he laughed. He brought one of his hand sup to his mouth to cover it as he doubled over in the bed, the laughing getting louder as he lifted her sheets up to try and cover his face. He was still bothered, he could feel it, but he wasn’t about to start kissing her again with that thing critiquing him the whole time! He imagined that happening, though, and the laughter increased at how ridiculous the sight would be. ”what the fuck,” he breathed out between laughs, but he just started to laugh again, still embarrassed. ”you’re so ridiculously shallow. You still need that thing to give you compliments on a daily basis?!”

When Chardonnay whacked him in the back of the head with a pillow that just made Arthur laugh harder, as he continued to try and hide his face in the sheets now gathered in his hands. God, this was ridiculous. He was so embarrassed, especially when the stupid mirror kept insulting him. He wasn’t out in the sun! He was red from embarrassment, it wasn’t his fault he was so easy to fluster! His skin felt sensitive, still, and as the warm breeze from a cracked window wafted by he felt as though it was colder. Though when the mirror brought u his earrings he almost wanted to stop laughing in a very ‘fuck you, they’re cool’ manner, but then Chardonnay whacked him again and the laughter was back. This was so embarrassing. He didn’t watch Chardonnay as she went to turn the mirror off, hiding in her sheets still. This was not how he expected this night to go, at all.

The mirror finally snapped off – though he was a little curious what it wanted to say about Chardonnay’s undergarments – and it was just them again. Thank God. He felt judged as it was, he didn’t need a mirror in on it, too. She talked to him and Arthur slowly removed the sheets from his face, still using them to cover his torso and body from view. He swallowed, and stopped laughing, his breath still coming in shallow as he trailed his eyes over her body again. She was covering her breasts, but still in just her underwear, her face flustered with embarrassment and anger, just like his must be. But as he looked at her all he could do was snort in response to her comments.

”I don’t believe you. You like to drown in compliments, don’t you?” He teased, because why else would her mirror still be on? She must have used it before work, or after work, to tell her how she looked like a hot and serious woman. She probably spun in it to show off her ass and the mirror told her that the pants made it look great, the way they sloped down her legs. As he thought about her pants, though, his eyes traveled down her legs and back up them again. Now he was starting to remember how aroused he was when he’d been interrupted by the mirror’s comments, and how close they’d been to having sex before he started laughing and she’d whacked him with pillows. How rude. He’d been laughing and she just whacked him with pillows! Still, he snorted again, his lips pulled up into a half smirk. He was pretty sure the mood wasn’t entirely gone, especially not with the way he caught her shifting uncomfortably as she looked at him. ”...I think it was trying to tell you that those are wet, by the way.” Yeah. And she should probably take them off. But then he paused.

”...hey. Is my ass actually that pale?” He wouldn’t know – he’d never seen it! And it was bothering him more than he wanted it to... especially since Chardonnay’s ass was always... well, perfect, at least in his opinion.

Arthur almost wanted to stick his tongue out in response to her commentary, but then again, that would be too childish, even for him. He didn’t know what the mirror had to say about him! Why – why then had it decided to act up? It hadn’t said anything when they tumbled onto her bed, when he’d hiked his jeans down, when he... ugh. Arthur didn’t even want to think about what the stupid thing would have said about him when he first walked into the condo. He probably looked out of place in Chardonnay’s condo, out of place in her bed... he rolled his eyes, trying not to think about that last thought too much. ”I don’t know why you even bother to ask that thing in the first place.” He mumbled. She was the type who could show up somewhere in a paper bag with sticks in her hair and still look great. Well. She never would, but that was her type, anyway. Meanwhile the stupid mirror always had critique for him, critique that he laughed at in theory but was annoying when he actually thought about it. He didn’t put much effort into his appearance but didn’t think he was that much of an eyesore.

What was it that stupid thing had said to him? Like the moon fell out of the sky? He tried to imagine what that would look like. He wasn’t that white! Was he even white enough for that to happen?! Well, his butt had never seen the sun in his entire existence. Of course whatever the mirror thought, Chardonnay agreed with, right? He glanced around the room, briefly, his eyes going to the fancy ass-posts on the side of the bed. Was her bed designed for a queen or something? It was so huge. And it was in the center of the room, looking at the windows... god... what was he doing here, again? Maybe she was going to kick him out, say that the mirror killed her mood. If that was true he wished she’d at least let him take a shower... it’d be embarrassing to go downstairs looking like this, even if the only one down there was likely the receptionist.

She got exasperated, threw her arms down (and he stared at her breasts as she spoke, distracted). Of course she got mad at him for saying something like that! Why would she get mad?! Wasn’t she about to go off about him, anyway?! About how the mirror was right and he had no place here, that he should go find his pants and yank those earrings out of his ears and get over it? He frowned when she covered her chest again and his eyes moved up to hers.

”Excuse me for being self-conscious, Princess! I’m not as in love with myself as you are!” Quite the opposite, actually, or so he thought. Though her last comment made his face flush, and he sputtered, not... not sure how to respond to that. She did see that more often than she’d seen his ass but... that meant she remembered it (of course she did, he could have slapped himself for thinking otherwise) and he clenched the sheets tighter to him as he bit down on his lower lip. ”O—okay, fine, forget I asked! Just – just – whatever!” He still wanted her, though, he was nervous but he wanted her to come over here and kiss him again and find her condoms wherever the fuck they were. He fiddled with the sheets, for something to do, as he avoided looking at Chardonnay’s face. ”...just – just – are we going to fuck tonight or should – should I just go?!”

When she said she still wanted to have sex his heart skipped a beat, for a second, and he’d deny it until he died, but it did. He didn’t expect her to say it so bluntly. He expected her to tell him to imagine what she thought – or to tell him to leave – or call him stupid for thinking that she didn’t want to and just insult him somehow, but she didn’t. He took in the flush of her skin, her panties the only covering she had. It was weird to hear her say she wanted it but... but... okay. That was a huge turn on. He let out a shaky breath and let the sheet fall to his waist, exposing his chest. He was still nervous about this. He felt so dumb, for being nervous. She was probably frustrated because he was still acting like a god damn virgin. He needed confidence! But the mirror’s comment had thrown his confidence out the window, to shatter on the ground.

But he’d been the one to get her hot and bothered, hadn’t he? Thin white ass or not, that wasn’t her priority. He could get her to moan and scream and he wanted to hear that again. And she didn’t look like she was coming over until he said something, or did something. When he stopped in front of her his hands went to her hips as he connected their lips, pulling her waist into his, moaning into her mouth as he brushed against her. The only thing separating them now were their respective layers of undergarments and he wouldn’t let that stupid mirror get in the way of sex. This wasn’t like the third time they’d slept together, where she’d laughed at him. This time there’d been no laughing at anyone, they were both still horny, and fuck, he moved his hips against hers again, biting her lower lip as he pulled away.

”I’m not completely turned off by your stupid mirror. I came down here to fuck you and that’s still what I want,” He said, not letting himself think about how it actually came out sounding like a moan. He didn’t need to get embarrassed about that – he just wanted sex. He pulled her towards her bed. In a lower voice, he asked, ”You have condoms in here, right?”

It wouldn’t be the end of the world if she didn’t. He had a few in his bag, but it was farther away, and he kind of just wanted to rip off their underwear and start fucking now.