The Dramatic Spiel of Arthur and Chardonnay~ (7,134 views)

He calmed down his face and folded his arms over his chest. This morning had gone from one extreme to the other. He’d come over and she was a drunken mess – he had to get her to bed and make sure she was all right – and then when she woke up she was mad. But she relented, and she finally agreed to let him help her even after a very... real argument. He wasn’t used to arguments with her getting that real. He hoped they didn’t happen often. Enough of them and she’d give up the sex. Not to mention, it was more exhausting than it was productive.

As much as he was glad that she was now going to let him know Andrew wasn’t bothering her as much, he was still concerned that she’d find it tedious after a while and just cut him off. It wasn’t like she liked his company much as an individual, and that much was established when she said he probably had a boring life outside of work and sex. He scoffed. She wasn’t right! He had friends who he talked to, he had shows he watched, he had his family, but outside of that he didn’t have this much money... not enough to lounge on the terrace and have his own pool. But even so her walls only had pictures of her family. She had no friends. He couldn’t imagine Chardonnay having any, really.

”Shut up. Your life isn’t any more exciting. Besides, you don’t know what I do with my spare time.” He said. Though it wasn’t the high life he wouldn’t say it was boring. He still kept a relationship with his niece – who was asking about her father now, which stressed Susan out. He still talked to Maxine and occasionally went with her to the bar (though he was always there to make sure she didn’t die despite her attempts to get him to drink). ”But I don’t care about whether or not you know. I don’t want you to know. All that matters is whether or not we’re busy on weekends.”

He exhaled and looked at her eating the toast for a second, before he back stepped towards the door. ”Just text me later and we’ll see about next weekend. Right?”

He left her condo and did what he thought he would do – he looked around the place for some shady figure. He didn’t try to make a scene about it, but he did scan the crowd, paying more attention to the small details. He hated that he didn’t know what this fucker looked like. All he knew was that the guy was bigger than him. Which, in the height stature, wasn’t that uncommon for men. But he was brawny, too, or at least brawnier than him. She’d mentioned that the guy’s arms were thicker than his. Arthur wondered what it’d be like if he went to the gym. He’d get stronger, but would he get beefier? He and his sister were cursed to look thin forever, and rarely gained weight. But would it be possible for him to get stronger looking? He didn’t have abs, or a six pack, he was actually pretty thin and if the guy was actually a skilled fighter he could probably take him out.

Still. He’d try to kick this guy’s ass if he could. He peeked around the corners of the condo complex to see if he found anyone shady lurking there. But he didn’t. Someone gave him an odd look, after awhile, so he stopped looking around. He saw the security guards outside of the place and figured that she had to be safe, right? Rich people spared no expense, especially not on security. So... no one could break in. Right?

He peered up the walls where he knew that her terrace was. She was so high up he couldn’t see anything, but there were a few buildings that looked like high rises that contained apartments. Did the guy live in one of those? He could see her terrace from there... right? He frowned at the thought. He really hated leaving her alone, but he knew he’d overstayed his welcome, especially given how he’d finally gotten her to text him when she got home. If he kept loitering she’d get mad again and change her mind.

He stopped and got a coffee on his way home, but it wasn’t enough. He got home and crashed hardcore on his couch, legs sprawled out, still in the slacks and button down he’d worn to leave Chardonnay’s apartment. He woke up at 7 at night and felt disoriented – he thought it was the next morning – and when he checked his phone to a missed call and a few missed texts he realized it was actually still the same day. He groaned and saw his coffee still sitting there, cold and half finished. But he was cheap, so he finished it even though it no longer tasted good. He’d probably pull an all-nighter that night and then get back on his regular schedule tomorrow. So he hoped.

He thought that Chardonnay wasn’t going to text him the next time she was working. He found himself staying up late, waiting for her message, even though he promised himself he wouldn’t. But when she didn’t text him at one, or one fifteen, or one twenty five, he was starting to think the worst cases possible. What if she hadn’t gotten to her phone and that guy was there waiting for her like she’d thought he might be? What if he came in the restaurant and waiting for her? Or maybe he brought chloroform this time and before she could get to anything he drugged her. Though the likely answer was that she was just ignoring him – to spite him – so he almost texted her himself to ask, even if she got angry at him, she’d still be fine. He almost jumped when his phone vibrated and he saw her nickname flash on his screen with a text that said she got home safe. He couldn’t fight the relief or the smile that came across his face, and he responded saying he’d gotten her message. Over time, her messages saying she got home safe came at about the same time every night and rather than sending her an affirmation every time, he started to send her random emojis on his keyboard. It became almost a game to him – which one would he pick to send next? Likely she found it stupid, but he didn’t care. He was pretty amused. He particularly liked sending her the upside-down smiley face emoji (which was arguably his favorite emoji of all time).

The next weekend she said she was busy and Arthur was disappointed to hear that -- he hadn’t had sex in two weeks by then, and missed it – but he managed. Now he texted Chardonnay one a day (when she worked, anyway) rather than just when they were going to have sex, because of her letting him know she got home safe. It was weird, but he was starting to see that she was the last person he texted at night before he fell asleep. He promised himself he wouldn’t stay up late to see her texts but he did keep his phone by his side. When it vibrated he woke up, saw she was safe, send some emoji and then went right back to sleep.

But then the next weekend they’d finally had sex again and he was almost desperate for it. He loved kissing her when she kissed him back with just as much fire as he gave her – a complete contrast from last time, when her heart wasn’t in it – and they didn’t have any disruptions with the mirror. He showered at her place, went back to his apartment, and then went about his life. He spent time with his family and still texted Erin – though she was getting a bit more distant, but he figured that was because her new boyfriend didn’t like that she talked to him very much – and worked at the theater.

The next time he went to her condo was a welcome stress relief and after they’d had sex he put on his sweatpants and curled up. But unfortunately, he had to go to the bathroom and so he had to lethargically crawl himself out of bed, even though he hated not being curled up in her covers, and trug his way towards the bathroom. He now knew the layout of her condo – though a few times he’d gotten lost, when he got up to use the bathroom, he knew better now – and headed into the little room with the toilet. He stifled a yawn, sat down, and did his business. Same old, same old.

But he made a mistake. When he turned around to flush the handle, his hand slipped and he pulled down two handles – one of them was the regular one he hit, it sent the water in the toilet down the drain but the other one caused something to surge into his asshole and he screamed loudly, tugging his pants up to cover himself as he scrambled to get off the toilet seat from hell. Oh god. That felt like a bug. Oh god. What if there was a spider crawling in his ass right now? As he shifted the water moved and he could feel it and the spider was moving, the spider was breeding and he was going to be impregnated by spider embryos and he was now collapsed in an unflattering heap on the floor, staring at the toilet with too-wide eyes, his body shaking. He didn’t realize he’d pulled two handles and didn’t want to pick himself up because there were probably more bugs crawling around her toilet, all waiting to jump out and attack him. While normally he would have reasoned this impossible, his mind was blurry and half-asleep, so he was utterly terrified.

Arthur was still curled into a ball on the other side of the toilet’s little room, shaking, still half-asleep and imagining that in the toilet were crawling spiders, wanting to attack him, wanting to crawl up his body. He wasn’t normally this afraid of bugs – in fact, he didn’t usually care either way about them – but when they may or may not be crawling up his ass at this very moment... oh God. He shivered and hugged himself. He shifted again and was conscious of the way everything around his butt felt. He didn’t fele crawling, but was it only a matter of time?

When Chardonnay came over he was still staring at her toilet, barely registering the sounds of her footsteps as they came to a stop and her anger at him. Of course she’d be angry – she was always angry at him – but he was irritated, too. Irritated and scared. And this was all her fault! She had no right to get mad at him for screaming!

”You’re the one who has a toilet full of fucking spiders! What the hell?!” he snapped back, still on the floor, his legs hiked up to his chest as he tried to distance himself from the toilet as much as humanly possible. ”No! The spiders crawled up my asshole is why I screamed! You’d scream too, God damn it! Call yourself a fuckin’ exterminator!”

He was still convinced she had a plethora of spiders in her god damn toilet! She had to! He felt them! She wasn’t nearly as distraught over this as she should be – she was just mad at him! Arthur knew she was going to be mad but seriously!? Why didn’t she care more about this? She flicked on the light and looked in the toilet, but she didn’t start screaming. That made him pause in confusion. What? But there had to be spiders, unless they were all in him now. But he didn’t feel crawling on his butt, or inside of him at all. He just felt uncomfortably wet, and uncomfortable in general, especially since his pants were only hiked up in the front and half of his ass was on the bare floor. Maybe they’d scurried away across the floor? His eyes bounced down to the floor – just as Chardonnay whacked him.

He winced at the hit, swearing, and brought his hand up to his head to rub it. What the fuck?! He rubbed the back of his neck and glared up at her. Seriously?! Why’d she hit him! Though with the hit came back some semblance of sense. He was being ridiculous, he couldn’t have had spiders on his ass... right?

”What the hell?! Your house is the one with the damn spiders!” He said. He stood up and had to adjust his pants around his waist as he did so. Though normally that would have made him flush, all it got out of him now was a slightly tinted hue to his cheeks as he walked over to the toilet, looking into it. It was pristine, not a speck of dirt... not a spider. He blinked. ”But, no, something launched into my ass! I felt it!”

Arthur glared at the toilet, as though it offended him, which it had. How dare there not be weird spiders crawling around? He felt like an idiot... had he imagined the feeling? No, no, he was sure he’d felt it! It was wet and unpleasant, and it scared him, and that was why he’d launched himself across the floor to curl up and try to assess his attacker.

Though Chardonnay sounded disbelieving as she finally got what bothered him, and Arthur furrowed his brow in confusion. What? What the fuck was a bidet? He looked at her in confusion, his expression basically saying what he was thinking.

”What... the fuck is that? Some fancy ass vibrator or something?” He asked with raised brows. Who the hell had a vibrator on their toilet though? Something to clean the ass – that was what toilet paper was for! What the hell was this toilet doing, launching water at people?! It’d be just like Chardonnay to have something so ridiculously unnecessary! ”Why the hell do you have something that launches water at your ass?!”

When she started to laugh Arthur felt his cheeks turning a darker shade of pink and humiliation begin to take over his brain. Fuck, she was laughing at him! Why was she the one laughing at him?! He should be laughing! What kind of a spoiled brat had a machine that washed their butt for them?! It was so ridiculously uncommon, except at fancy hotels and shit like that (he assumed) not for peoples’ condos! Who was she, getting off laughing at him for not knowing what this stupid bidet was?! He took a step back and grit his teeth together in rage as her laughter continued.

It lit up her face in a way he’d never seen it lit up. She’d laughed cruelly at him before but never so hard she clutched her stomach and bent over. If he wasn’t so embarrassed, he probably would have liked the way that her lips curved up into her cheeks and the sound she made. But instead he just flushed even darker and longed for something to hide his face in. So far his only options were the toilet or his hands. He settled on the latter, and hid his face, groaning.

”Shut up! It’s you who’s weird! Who the fuck can afford a... an ass washer?! You’re so fucking spoiled! Jesus fucking Christ,” He said, lowering his hands at her latter comments. His eyebrows twitched when she asked him if he had a problem getting cleaned down there and his brows twitched even more when she mentioned vaginas and periods. It was too early in the morning for this discussion, he thought. ”Excuse me for not knowing anything about how to clean a goddamn vagina! Leave me alone! I’m half asleep and that water felt like a bunch of crawly bugs on my ass! Isn’t that thing just a waste? You could easily take a shower!”

This was ridiculous and Arthur wanted to vanish into a hole that came out of the floor. Jesus fucking Christ. Why was she so amused by this? Not everyone knew what one of these were! He’d lived over twenty years of his life without using one and he was sanitary! He might not have as much money as she did, or as nice a collection of things as she did, but he’d always been neat and kept what little he had clean. It wasn’t unsanitary not to have a hose go down on you after every time you used the bathroom! Who the hell did she think she was!?

He glared over at her comments.

”No! But you don’t need that thing! It’s not unsanitary if you don’t have it! Not everyone grew up privileged, Princess!” God. That pissed him off. Hearing her say that this was a necessity pissed him off. It was a luxury for her spoiled ass (literally) and so what if it scared him? He didn’t expect something like that to exist. It wasn’t his fault. He scoffed when she told him to clean. ”Whatever. I always clean up after myself. I even clean up after you, sometimes. You don’t need to lecture me about it. “ At her comment about washing himself he grew even more annoyed. He wasn’t a child! God damn it! ”Oh, shut the fuck up! You get your own sheets wet in the middle of the night! I don’t need to help you there!”

When she mentioned his reactions to her bed he scoffed. He knew she wasn’t wrong. Of course she wasn’t wrong. He did like her bed. It was comfortable, nice, and it was so easy to just snuggle himself underneath the sheets and pretend that the world didn’t exist. So he didn’t say anything, he just left it at his scoff. And a nice bed was more practical than the rest of her condo! She was so spoiled, so damn spoiled...

He narrowed his eyes when she refuted his statement.

”Don’t act like you wouldn’t have chewed my ear off if I didn’t clean up after you.” he spat. Hadn’t she done so before, when he didn’t wash the stove that she also would have killed him for touching? God. She was impossible to please. It was walking on eggshells with her. Sometimes they could be civil and get along, and have sex, but then other times he tripped onto the shells and their fights just cracked and cracked and cracked. He was temporarily appeased by the blush that coated her cheeks at his comment, though it made him remember how her cheeks had lit up slightly when she was laughing. Though his appeasement was short-lived because her next comment caused him to flush in embarrassment.

”Oh, shut the fuck up! I didn’t ask you to come check on me, anyway!” He snapped. Not attractive... he scoffed. So what! He wasn’t allowed to get scared when he thought some stupid bug was infecting his ass? Or... or... the more he thought about that the more stupid he felt. He closed the door when Chardonnay left and groaned, pressing his forehead against the door. He was so stupid. Maybe he should just stay in the bathroom forever... he knew he had to clean it. Maybe he could just sleep on her couch. As much as he didn’t want to miss an opportunity to sleep in her bed again, he didn’t want to face her.

He cleaned up himself and the bathroom in a few moments, dampening a towel in the process. Once everything was taken care of and his ass wasn’t wet anymore he glared over at the stupid toilet, stupid big-day or whatever the fuck that thing was called, and exited the little room, leaving the door open. He washed his hands, and then trudged out of the bathroom and into the hall. Despite his earlier thoughts, he wound up in Chardonnay’s room again. He tugged the covers and slipped underneath them, glaring over at her figure in the bed. ”Fuck you, Princess.” he mumbled, not even sure if she’d hear him or if she was already asleep. But whatever. He just wanted to back to sleep, even though he was wide awake.

Somehow two more years had come and gone in Arthur’s life. And, out of everything that had ever happened to him, the only think he’d ever thought back in college... was his career. Everything else came at him like a tornado and he just kind of had to accept it.

His fuckbuddy relationship with Chardonnay remained a constant, three years after they’d slept together for the first time. He didn’t think that it’d last that long. He didn’t think she’d still want him after even one year, let alone three, and he couldn’t believe that she hadn’t found someone better. She might be on the market for someone better. That was something he especially thought those times they had arguments that were more than the trivial shit that usually spewed out of their mouths. Despite those fights, though, she still wanted him, sometimes even during those fights. They’d sometimes shut each other up with a kiss and drag the other back to the bedroom to start stripping. Arthur wound up going over to Chardonnay’s place more often than she came to his. It was easier like that and she had a nicer bed and less nosey neighbors. Monson had yet to ask about his ‘girlfriend’ and Arthur was perfectly okay with that. Still, it was weird to think that he regularly hooked up with someone now. Significant other or not, she was an important part of his life now, like his family was. And over the years his concern for her (though he insisted it was mostly driven by guilt and his decency as a human being) didn’t lessen.

Every day she got off of work, she sent him a text saying she’d gotten home safe. Those texts, which kept coming, even as months and a year passed, still reassured Arthur just the same. She hadn’t had to call him and she said she hadn’t seen the guy but he was still worried that sometime he’d show up again, when she least expected it, so he was glad she never seemed to take her guard down. He knew that the day she stopped texting him that she got home safe he’d be paranoid enough to text her something other than the emoji – a question, asking if she did get home. But... he never had to do that. The thought almost made him smile.

His sister had decided to start a blog about a month after he’d had that embarrassing incident at Chardonnay’s condo. She told him, with excited eyes, how she’d started a WordPress account and had already gotten a few followers! They were bots, but seeing the way her face lit up at the sight, Arthur didn’t have the heart to tell Susan that. Susan drafted her posts in her notebook and typed them up on her fancy new laptop, and then published them for the two bots (and the world) to see. She mostly documented stories about raising Adelaide. She also liked to review TV shows and songs. At one point she asked Arthur if he minded if she wrote about him, and he said he guessed that was fine as long as she didn’t trash talk him or badmouth the theater he worked for, so she started to write about her brother, too. At first it was just her brother’s relationship with Adelaide, but then she started to talk about the relationship, the odd and almost parent-like one, that existed between the two of them as siblings. She gained more followers after that – mostly other moms and family members who liked to read that stuff – and eventually Susan gained the confidence to start talking about Kasper.

Arthur read all of her posts, of course. He said he did it to make sure that she didn’t talk shit about him, but he really did want to see what his sister was thinking. Some of the posts made his throat clam up, and one she’d written about the two of them had almost made him cry (but he’d never tell her that). The funny ones were easier to read but when she started to mention Kasper, which was when they got difficult to read.

Adelaide was beginning to question why she didn’t have a father. Why did her best friend Annabelle have a daddy, but she only had an uncle? Susan called Arthur up one night in tears after a student-teacher conference because Adelaide had been throwing another one of her tantrums and demanded to know where her ‘daddy’ was. It was inevitable that this would happen at some point, but neither Arthur nor Susan thought it’d be quite this soon.

So that weekend he told Chardonnay he was busy, and he spent it over at his sister’s instead. They sat down with Adelaide and Susan tried to tell her about Kasper, about how her father was just... not there. It was hard to communicate with Adelaide since her father wasn’t dead but was never coming back. Adelaide took it hard, and lashed out against both her uncle and mother but her mother in particular. Susan fell into a depression that week and so instead of going home after his shifts Arthur went to Susan’s apartment. Unlike his mother Adelaide’s temper didn’t worry him and he had no qualms getting her to listen to him, but every time he had to raise his voice when Adelaide grew disrespectful, Arthur could see his sister flinch, and he felt horrible at it.

The next weekend he had gone to Chardonnay’s place for the night but left earlier than he normally did – at 9 AM, a time he’d usually still be in bed for – and by 10 he was back at his sister’s. He needed the stress relief, especially when he showed up and his sister was still bummed out, and Adelaide was ignoring everyone. That Monday (since he still didn’t work Mondays) Arthur dropped Adelaide off and picked her back up from school, and while about to drive away, he noticed fliers advertising the father/daughter dance coming up at the end of the month. He entered the building and asked the principal about the event, telling him his name and relation to Adelaide, before the man explained the event. Then, it all made sense to Arthur. He thanked the man for his time and left, and came back to pick Adelaide up at 2 PM. When she opened his car and sat down, Arthur showed her the flier and asked her if she knew about the event.

Adelaide said Annabelle was excited about it, because she got to dance with her daddy and that she asked if she was going but Adelaide couldn’t, because she didn’t have a dad, and that she was mad at her mom for not giving her a dad so that she could go to the dance. So Arthur offered to take her in her father’s stead – something that surprised Adelaide – but then her face lit up and she kept repeating “I can go, I can go?!” for the entire way back. But, he had a condition to add – she had to give her mother a hug. Adelaide didn’t quite understand why, but agreed anyway, and when they got back to Susan’s apartment, Adelaide ran to her mother’s room and enveloped her into a hug. It made Susan feel a lot better and Arthur explained to her after Adelaide was put to bed that night about the father/daughter dance. Susan felt horrible for not knowing about the event.

So a few weeks later, on a Saturday night, he took Adelaide to the dance. She was ecstatic to go. Arthur wound up having to wear a nice suit and tie to match Adelaide’s red dress, and Susan had spent an hour doing her daughter’s makeup. She got a nice photograph of her brother and daughter before she let them go to the event, where they met Annabelle and Johnathan. For most of the event Adelaide was dancing with her best friend, leaving Arthur alone with Johnathan and the other fathers. He was aware of odd looks he got from the crowd, because given his age he looked too old to be her brother and instead seemed like a very young father, but he didn’t let them bother him. He got a few dances with his niece, and while they were waiting in line to get pictures taken, Adelaide turned towards some of the other fathers in line and very rudely commented on how old and crusty they looked. Arthur was very shocked by that and told Adelaide to apologize for what she said, but the fathers laughed it off.

He took Adelaide home that night and she fell asleep on the way home, so he had to hoist her up into his arms and carry her inside. Susan then took her, told her brother thank you, and then he went home. The next day after that he got a text from Chardonnay and almost said he was busy again, but then he realized how lonely he felt with no plans that evening and said he’d head over.

One thing that became odd about going to Chardonnay’s place was the cooking. At some point (he wasn’t sure when) she started writing a cookbook and allowed him to taste test her food. It wasn’t something he ever expected her to let him do, but he didn’t turn down a free meal. Well, it wasn’t free, and usually the payment he gave Chardonnay afterwards was sex, but that was fine because he loved to give her that. He usually considered it a success if he could get her to moan out his name, and forget about him owing her anything (at least temporarily). Then afterwards he’d usually tell her he obviously earned his food and she’d scoff at him, but it was a success either way. He actually really looked forward to those evenings he was allowed to eat her cooking. There was a reason she was such a well renowned chef, and he didn’t usually eat that nice. Usually he didn’t have much negative to say, he just told her what he thought of it, and she could determine whether or not how he described it was fitting for whatever she was looking for. He didn’t really get what she’d do differently if she didn’t like his response but, he supposed, that was why he wasn’t a chef.

In September, Erin and a few of her friends brought up an anime convention Arthur had always wanted to attend, but could never do so – Anime Boston. They were planning to book a hotel and needed another person to go. He had to plead with Jasmin to get her to take over the days he’d be missing, but if he could, he’d be able to go with them. Jasmin agreed to it, and so he was allowed to take the time off in April to plan to go. He was put into a group chat with Erin’s friends and it was kind of awkward at first, given the last time he’d met them, but they were all pretty nice. Besides, Erin had a boyfriend now, so Arthur was sure that awkwardness had cleaned up...

It was around that time that Susan heard about the big scandal with the Kardashians! Her favorite reality show to watch with her brother still, Arthur had been looking at his phone when he heard a voice that almost made him drop his phone – he looked up at the TV to see Chardonnay yelling at the cameras and the Kardashians.

He burst out laughing. Susan was outraged that the media was portraying Chardonnay in a bad light. But he thought it was hilarious.

Susan wrote a long and wordy blog post defending Chardonnay and her right to privacy that went viral with the media buzz about the incident. A lot of people agreed with Susan but plenty of other people called Chardonnay an attention whore after the incident – some of the comments really got under Susan’s skin! Arthur read her little rant about Chardonnay’s right to privacy but didn’t want to linger at the comments. Most of the negative ones called Chardonnay a bitch and for some reason even though he always said the same about her, Arthur didn’t like reading it from the words of some other idiot behind a keyboard. Some of the comments were about Chardonnay’s physical appearance and those ones really annoyed him, so at that point, he just stopped reading them.

Susan got more followers on her blog after that post and while the trolls increased, Susan was pretty good at deleting them and just responding to the comments that made sense. When Arthur next went to Chardonnay’s condo he almost asked her about the incident with the Kardashians, but he didn’t want her to know he watched the show (by force, admittedly) so he kept his mouth shut.

He wanted to be surprised when Chardonnay mentioned that Chad Richardson’s prissy ass had shown up at her restaurant, but he wasn’t actually surprised. That stupid whore of a suitemate of Arthur’s was there with a date of course, and what else had he done than started hitting on Chardonnay the second she approached him. When Arthur heard that he rolled his eyes and said of course he did, that was just how Chad operated. Though he had to wonder if she’d flirted back. Chad was a womanizer and though he knew Chardonnay had standards, he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe now that she’d had a taste of sex, she wanted to try someone who was more experienced, someone who knew what he was doing. Though he brushed off the comment when she said something about it, it was still something he thought about well after the fact.

By the time his birthday rolled around, he hadn’t intended on doing anything. His sister did something she really shouldn’t have done and gave him her newer car for his birthday. He was livid when he found out – no, livid was the wrong word, but he was shocked and tried to tell her she shouldn’t have – but then he realized how much nicer the brown colored 2011 Jeep Cherokee was than the old Volkswagen he now drove and accepted the keys even though he told her she didn’t have to. But she insisted and took the Volkswagen for herself, saying she didn’t drive her nice new car anyway and it was such a shame to leave it sitting around! And as another condition for this gift, Susan took Arthur to a bar with the sole intention of getting him hammered. And it succeeded. And she wound up lugging her brother’s giggily, drunken ass back to her apartment. She was very entertained, and apparently took several photos, but Arthur was miserable the next morning and didn't want to see them. He realized he’d texted Chardonnay at some point and asked if she was busy, and fortunately her answer had been yes. God. If she’d said no, he might have tried to drive to her place or, worse, gotten Susan to give him a lift. Not to mention he didn’t want to show up to her condo expecting sex while drunk out of his mind. On his birthday, no less (which he didn’t even think she knew had been that night).

The next times he parked at Chardonnay’s place, he didn’t bother to hide out in the back. And with the nicer car came more confidence. Slowly he stopped caring as much about the people in her lobby. He wore jeans and tee shirts, and even wore plaid one time when heading over. No one cared. He was getting way better at it. He didn’t care if Chardonnay hated plaid – he wore it anyway.

By the time April rolled around, Arthur was all set to go to the Anime Convention out in Boston, and boy, was it an experience. The group carpooled up – Arthur drove one car, one of Erin’s friends Katie drove the other car down. The most awkward part of the whole trip was that Erin and her boyfriend had broken up literally a day before they left. But overall they handled it pretty well. Erin went in Arthur’s car and he went in the other one – the only problem was when it came to their shared room. Erin said that they’d be fine and they were for the first nights. But then on Saturday night, she showed up in a rage because he’d brought a girl back to their shared room. She wound up losing her shit, getting pissed, and going on a huge rant about her exes.

Then she turned to Arthur and asked him why he hadn’t dated her. And that question made him freeze.

He’d texted Chardonnay that Thursday and told her he’d be busy this weekend, not explaining why, because he was sure that she didn’t care. She still texted him every time she got home safe and he still responded with his favorite emoji, and he still looked forward to those texts every night. He couldn’t picture calling this off with Chardonnay. He liked to sleep with her, he liked to text her and he liked the way she looked at him when he was at her door, and the way she grabbed him and started to pull him towards her bedroom while connecting their lips. He swallowed when he realized the same reason he’d rejected Erin before was what he was thinking about now.

Fucking Chardonnay. Literally and figuratively.

He told Erin that it was a long story, but she really felt down. He didn’t want to lie to her but he felt like the truth would just piss her off more, so he used the first excuse that came to his mind – “I’m not over my ex.”

He didn’t actually have an ex. Not unless Erin herself counted, but he didn’t count her. They’d never dated. He told Erin that “his ex” was the girl he lost his virginity to. He kept it vague, not wanting to lie too much, and she seemed to sense hurt in his tone as he talked so she let the subject drop. Still, the next day, Erin was using Arthur to her advantage. She clung to him and made it look like they were close. Arthur noticed she was just trying to make her ex-boyfriend jealous and called her out on it. Erin eventually just asked him if he’d go along with it, because she was really hurting from how he’d slept with someone else the night before, and Arthur exhaled and relented.

But, still, he wondered. Why didn’t he call off this thing with Chardonnay? Why didn’t he actually date someone, someone who he actually had things in common with, someone who wouldn’t be ashamed to be seen with him in public, someone who was real and genuine? He didn’t know why he was so attached to sleeping with Chardonnay. It might have been the fact that she was real. Somewhere. She was hidden behind her walls and he didn’t want to break them. But he wanted to see her, he liked being with her and kissing her and having sex with her.

When they got back from the trip, he was still thinking about what happened so he sent Chardonnay a text, asking if she was busy. He knew he said he was busy but he said he wasn’t anymore, and when she said she wasn’t he went to her house and the second she opened the door his lips were on hers, and that electric feeling was back. He felt her hands wrap around his neck, her fingertips brushing against his nape, and he moaned. He missed her touch.

It was pointless trying to find a girlfriend. He was too obsessed with the physical pleasure Chardonnay could give him.

This morning, Arthur was at Chardonnay’s condo, snoring the day away. He didn’t want to get up. He was warm, snuggled underneath her covers, on his back. He felt something shift beside him but didn’t move, not until he felt arms on either side of him and lips starting to trail along his neck. The feeling blended into his dream and he sighed at the touches, his eyelids twitching as he slowly started to wake up.

It was rare that Chardonnay woke him up like this – though it wasn’t like it’d never happened before. Sometimes when they woke up, they were horny. Or, one of them was, and that quickly made the other grow horny to match. But she didn’t normally trail kisses along his neck and giggle near his ear as she crawled on top of him, both of them still underneath the covers. He moaned a little as he slowly blinked his eyes open, taking in the sight of Chardonnay bending down to his neck. He felt her kisses there and arched his neck to the side to allow her to keep touching him. Her hands were wandering on his body, going down lower by the second, and that made him sigh in pleasure.

He wasn’t normally a morning person, but mornings like this were definitely fine, in his opinion.

”Morning, Princess.” He grumbled, sliding his hands down to her waist. When she moved her head away from his neck he connected their lips in a kiss. His movements were slower because he’d just woken up but they were just as passionate, especially when he rolled her over so that she was on her back underneath him and he was above her, lazily grinning before he connected their lips again and slid his hands up the baggy shirt she wore to bed, hiking it up so he could fondle her breasts.

Arthur let her slide her hands down his body while he kissed her and touched her, rubbing the skin of her breast with his thumbs as he got her shirt hiked up and off of her, so that they were exposed and he could see them. She arched into his touch, and he slid his hands where he knew she liked them, feeling her nipples underneath his fingertips. He was still feeling elated from last night, but a burst of morning sex was always sweet. Literally.

When he came over at night, their sex was usually steamy and passionate and fucking amazing, of course, and it was that way after a fight, too. But instances like this where one of them was craving sex first thing in the morning, the motions were slower and less aggressive. He just wanted to touch her in the morning, and get her to smile when he did so, as she let out soft little moans. His breath tangled with hers and he didn’t smell anything except for the smell of sex that still lingered from last night. He knew he’d shower after this, to get rid of the smell, but right now they could just make that scent again. He didn’t mind.

He moaned, longer and deeper than usual, when she started to hike down his sweatpants and connected their lips. He moved his arousal against hers, the sensation sending sparks throughout his body as he started to stiffen. He heard the phone, which almost jostled him out of the mood, but then Chardonnay told him to ignore it in a sultry voice that brought the mood right back. He kissed her, rubbing his body against hers, his hands moving from her breasts down to her waist and to the hem of her panties, hiking them down. Their bare skin touched – though he wasn’t inside her yet – but then in irritation, he notice das the phone rang again and with even more irritation he saw Chardonnay answer the call. He wanted to sputter something out but he was still catching his breath as he stared down at her. She was still aroused and panting underneath him, with hardened nipples that he could see, but why had she answered?! Why hadn’t she hung up and turned off her phone and ground against him again?

But then her next words into the line caused his eyes to widen the size of saucers. If nothing else would have killed his boner, her saying hello to her father on the other end of the line sure did. He was still above Chardonnay, so close he could hear the tone of her father’s voice on the other end of the line. Shit. Shit. He had to struggle to keep his breathing even as he shifted and rolled off of her, pulling his pants up to cover his waist. His skin felt like it was on fire, tingling, and even though he was turned off by the mention of her father he was still bothered, somewhat, especially when he saw her breasts exposed from all their shifting under the covers. He hid his face, which had gone completely scarlet, and pulled the covers up to cover her chest so he didn’t have to look at it. He hid his face completely, and when she got off the phone, he was definitely going to have a few complaints to fire her way.

Oh, god. This was horrible. Arthur groaned to himself as he tried to even out his breathing. He was very aware of Chardonnay’s half of her conversation with her father, and all he could picture was Mr. Nicholas on the other end of the line, concerned about his daughter who sounded out of breath and bothered, and what if he figured it out? Chardonnay wasn’t a good actress as he’d figured out previously – what if she blew it? What if she awkwardly had to admit when they’d been doing? What if Mr. Nicholas figured out it was him?

Ugh. That was one thing Arthur never wanted him to figure out.

He rose his brows over at Chardonnay as she explained that she’d been working out, which was a right answer, right? He was thankful she didn’t sound too on the spot as she continued to talk to her father and it was really weird to hear her talking to her father. She didn’t usually sound nice or considerate to anyone and then here she was, talking to him like that. He glared over at her, the sheets hiked up to cover his chest and body from view, as she finally got off the phone.

”What the fuck did you answer the phone for,?” He hissed, still sufficiently bothered. He couldn’t believe she would talk to her father when they were about have fucking sex, of all times! ”We were about to have sex and you just answered a call from your father?! You could’ve turned off the phone! God, you could have at least warned me before you hit talk! I don’t think he would have appreciated hearing me!”

Arthur rubbed his forehead. Was this seriously happening? He’d bene in such a good mood earlier... but that was slipping away from him, replaced with irritation at Chardonnay and her father. What, honestly, had been so important that he had to call her at 10 in the morning?! It hadn’t sounded like much, just casual good morning, how are you shit. There wasn’t anything imperative that he remembered hearing. And he’d almost had sex – God, if she’d never answered the phone, he’d be inside of her right now, and instead of being pissed off at her he’d be reveling in the way he could make her moan. But no. He couldn’t have nice things, apparently. Or sex.

”Well no one did! It didn’t sound like a Goddamn emergency! And, besides, you could have checked the idea or still, warned me you were going to answer it! I think you underestimate how much a phone can pick up! What, would you have said I was your jogging partner or some shit?!” Arthur glared over at her, noticing her lips were raised in a pout. God damn it. He wanted to kiss her again, but he was still certain that her phone would go off, or he’d start thinking about that. And then it’d kill his mood. He needed a shower – he stank, the room stank, and he missed the lazy morning sex they’d almost had. Damn it... and she was rarely in the mood like that, too.

He glared back over at her, his eyes traveling to the covers that shielded her body from view. He groaned, and brought his hands up out from underneath the covers to run them through his hair. It was sweaty and oily, from perspiration and her fingers going through it last night. He exhaled. ”...well, even if you want to continue, it’s awkward given that you just got off the phone with your dad. So we should probably take a shower,” He said. But then at his own wording all he could picture was them banging in the shower together, instead of on the bed, and he flushed. ”...I mean two showers.”

Arthur rolled his eyes in response to her question. She had a point, even though he didn’t want to admit it. He probably would have answered the phone if he got a call, and it rang more than once. But still he would have looked at the caller ID first – and gotten Chardonnay off of him (if the positions were reversed). He wouldn’t answer the god damn phone without giving warning! That was what irked Arthur the most about this entire situation.

He rolled his eyes and leaned over the bad, grabbing his own phone out of the pocket of his jeans lying on her floor. His screen still had a shatter on it from two years ago – that time he’d thrown his phone. He really should get his iPhone replaced. It was outdated now, there were newer models, but he just never... felt like getting a new one. This one worked for texts and calls, and sure, his games were really laggy now, and the crack in his screen was obnoxious, but... whatever. He’d save up for a nice, new one that would last him for another two or three years before too long. His sister had asked him how he got the crack and his excuse was that he’d dropped it. It still functioned properly, and he was glad that she hadn’t pried for information. She would have probably blamed her being in the hospital for what he did to his phone and he didn’t want that. She felt guilty about enough crap now, especially when it came to Adelaide.

These thoughts were enough to calm him down even more, the buzz from the almost-sex he’d just had finally beginning to die. Still, he hated that it’d been cock-blocked. He could have had sex right now. He could be feeling on top of the world by now. But instead he was scrolling through some messages that Jasmin had sent him about an issue they were having with a part-timer skipping his shifts, and his brow furrowed in irritation. Teenagers really didn’t give a fuck, did they? Arthur had a feeling he’d be firing the guy before too long.

Of course, Chardonnay’s mood was completely gone. He rolled his eyes back over to her, his eyebrow twitching. Great. Fucking great. He’d always respected her father but right now he was really annoyed at the guy. Couldn’t he have waited an hour to call her? By then they’d be done and he’d probably be in the shower, or she would have been, and he would have let her phone ring until she finished up. Instead he’d called before and the buzz had dissipated. He knew Chardonnay was going to wash up these sheets and then that’d be the end of sex, at least for another week. Assuming she wasn’t busy then.

Of course she shot down shower sex immediately – not like he’d been suggesting it or anything – but yeah, he was never going to get that again. Which kind of sucked because while she hadn’t been that turned on by it, he sure had. It probably had to do with the fact that she almost slipped once and he had to pretty much lift her to keep it from happening again. He was strong enough to do it, but by the end of the sex his arms felt like noodles, not that he let that on to her at all. After that was when he decided to start going to the gym with his sister once a week, to build up his muscles. But, of course, when they were finished Chardonnay had whipped her hair in his face causing him to sputter and pretty much said that this was never happening again. Whatever. He blushed at the memory, especially when she told him not to get off in her shower. That made his brows twitch again as he glared at her.

”The fuck? I’m not going to jerk off in your shower. I’m not that sad. Feel free to fantasize about it, though.” He growled with another eye roll, grabbing the shirt he’d just taken off of her from the floor. He then threw it onto her head and got himself out of the bed, going towards his bag to grab his body wash and shampoo. ”...who the fuck answers a phone call in the middle of foreplay? Only a goddamn spoiled Princess.” he grumbled under his breath, mostly to himself.

Arthur scoffed at what she said, gathering his things into his hands. He took his change of clothing, too, folded neatly in his hands. Over the two years they’d been hooking up he became less self-conscious in her lobby – he was a recognizable face now more or less, so he had no shame about wearing cheaper clothes as he left. The clothes in his hands were a pair of jeans and plaid. That would be his revenge, he thought – come out of the bathroom in plaid to spite her. Of course at the time he packed his clothes he didn’t have any intention of spiting her... but now he definitely did. He stood up straight just as a pillow lobbed into his back and he turned around with a glare to look at Chardonnay and her bedhead.

God damn it. He looked down at the pillow, picked it up, and lobbed it back in her direction. This was all her goddamn fault. If it wasn’t for her answering the call, he wouldn’t be so sexually frustrated with her right now. He’d be sexually relieved, and completely happy with her. But no. Now he had to go and take a cool shower to calm his body and not smell like sweat and sex. God. He didn’t realize how smelly he was until he sniffed himself to investigate. He went into the bathroom, ignoring his phone lying on the floor beside his backpack. He didn’t notice it slipped out of his pocket when she lobbed the pillow at him. He’d make sure he had it before he left, though.

Inside her bathroom Arthur looked at himself in the mirror. He looked well-rested, but a complete mess. His hair had a mind of its own, the black strands sticking up at weird angles. He tried to flatten it, sort of, but that didn’t really work out too well. He’d have to comb it after he showered. He looked at the marks Chardonnay had left on his skin, running his fingers across the little red dots. They were nowhere Susan would be able to see when he went to her place. They were usually very careful about that – except for those times that they accidently (deliberately in Arthur’s revenge case) left hickeys on one another in visible areas. It was hot in the moment, sure, but masking the little bruise was a huge pain in the ass.

When Chardonnay spoke up Arthur almost jumped, not expecting to have heard her voice. He turned towards that bathroom door as her voice wafted in. And then she said that next weekend, there’d be no sex. He blinked. What? Really? No sex next week? Fuck. And they left on a... frustrated note this time. He’d rather be sated than waiting for the sex.

”I can go a week without sex, Princess.” Arthur snapped back. But, even as he said that... he could do it but he’d much rather have sex once a week. Hell, he probably wouldn’t have minded doing it more frequently if they lived closer to one another. And, sure, he might get himself off sometimes more frequently than that, but it was never the same as having sex with her, or even having Chardonnay touch him rather than himself. That definitely was not something she needed to know about, though, so he just exhaled and pointedly ignored her last comment.

Of course her parents were coming up... he hoped they didn’t think anything was weird. Because if they did, how readily would Chardonnay cut off this whole thing? He knew this would have to end sometime, but he just... didn’t want it to end right now. That thought made him think, made him wonder, when would they cut it off? He placed his soap and shampoo in her shower, before he grabbed a towel and removed his sweatpants, wrapping the towel around his waist. He turned on the water, the shower rearing itself to life, as he stepped into it.