A Theme For Murder

Theme For Murder


A/N: This is what writer’s block and too much alcohol does to a person.
Warning: Do not inhale.

And oh yeah… this IS a slash-M/M-yaoi fic. So don’t be fooled, mmkay?
And another note… I’m not used to first POV, so if there are technical errors like “is” as opposed to “was”, sorry. Just know that it’s all happening like… presently. (I suck at present-tense =/)


“A Theme for Murder”
By: Camui


My life is simple enough, I suppose. Go to school by day, bartend at night – yup, pretty good indeed. I moved out of the family house when I was nineteen, and made it two states over to good ol’ Washington. But, I wasn’t too interested in the Coffee Capitol (I’m not much of a coffee drinker). Instead, I stopped in Spokane, just a rock-throw from the border of Idaho. If you ask the locals, Spokane is nothing spectacular, but I love it. Growing up on the outskirts of Billings, Montana, a place like Spokane is a miracle.

You never know how wonderful it is to talk to someone and have them know nothing about you, until you’ve lived in a small town. Population three-hundred with a lot of gossipmongers; yeah, things got rough. Especially when the whole lot of them find out who you slept with last night and what kind of condom you used - and whether you threw it away in the trash bin next to the bed or the one in the bathroom.

Sure, some country guys don’t do too well in the city like this. But I like the hustle and bustle – even though Spokane doesn’t have too much of it. That’s okay, though. Attending the community college has kept my mind on my studies; my studio apartment in the downtown area is perfect for me, and my job? Well, my job is a whole different story my friend.

See, I work in a club called Banana Joe’s. It’s one of the many hot spots down town, and with a degree I got right away here I landed a job bartending. It’s a passion, I guess. Mixing all of those drinks, learning a few tricks to make the customers smile – and oh, the ladies sure are pretty here in the city. Not the ones with all of the make-up and flashy clothes, no, but the girls that just barely shimmer with eye shadow and wear their heels with jeans.

The dancers that work there are a riot, too. Those girls are always laughing and having a good time, and you wouldn’t believe that all of them are under the age of twenty-one! I sure didn’t. They always have interesting stories about the guys they entertained the previous night, or how they had a wardrobe malfunction before going up on stage.

Though, Banana Joe’s wasn’t a strip club by any means. Nope, those girls wore flashy, pretty outfits with lots of sparkles and glitter and really really high heels, and danced in cages that were placed all over the bar. I always compared them to caged birds, only these caged birds sang a happy tune. Dancing was their passion, and the tips they got every night made them even happier. There are about… oh, eight girls total, and each of them are a different variety.

Reina is a feisty Hispanic girl, with wicked curves and hair that waves and curls for miles. She usually wears an outfit similar to one of those pretty Spanish ladies in the old Western movies. Aylana is a Southern girl, she’s real sweet, and she goes for the Daisy Duke style – pulls it off perfectly with her blonde hair and blue eyes. Maëlle, she’s from France, and one of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever seen. Her hair is light brown and her eyes a warm, golden color. Not brown, not green – truly gold. She goes for the Eurobeat look, along with Britney – a cute redhead that has to translate a lot of what Maëlle says. Danisha is a beautiful African-American girl, with an exotic look to her. I think one of her parents was Asian or something, because her eyes had a peculiar, stunning slant to them. She’s very polite but scary when angry. The twins, Jessica and Jennifer, they use the opposites to their advantage. Jess, well she’s pretty out-going and tomboyish, but Jennifer is all about the city and hates nature. Them together is quite a sight, really. And then finally there’s Tori. She’s Asian, and has the shiniest, prettiest black hair that rests just below her shoulders. Her eyes… well, she must be a mix like Danisha, ‘cause her eyes are a piercing cerulean blue. I’ve never asked – that’d be too rude! But I do wonder some times. She’s shy and softspoken, but when she dances you’d think otherwise. She does the ‘rave’ style, which I think flatters her perfectly. When you get her out of her shell, she’s a firecracker and just a bundle of energy. Her and the girls and I are all real close, so we see that side more often than the shy one.

It’s Tori that I have an interest in, really. I guess you could call it a crush… she’s just beautiful, and her smile lights up the room, and I know that she’s really intelligent, too. But of course, like I’d have a chance with her. It’s not like she’s above me or anything, I know that if I tried I could at least get a date out of her… but it’s almost as if she has a ‘hands-off’ sign blinking over her head like a neon ad over a porno shop.

No one openly hits on her – even the customers when she’s dancing. She’s modest, too, and never wears skirts that show too much above the knee, or low cut shirts. I figured she was just religious or something and didn’t want to offend the wrong people, but Britney – she’s a big gossip lover – informed me that Tori’s not that religious, and has always dressed like that.

Hm… her skin is really soft, too. It’s a light bronze, and flawless… her legs, oh, they’re so sexy! When she wears heels her calves are defined and her ass just looks so perfect under her clothing...

“Tristan!”

I blink, snapped out of my thoughts as I glance around. The professor at the front of the room, Bill, is staring at me expectantly.

Uh… was I supposed to answer a question?

“Yes sir?” I asked as politely as I could, trying to not sound like an idiot in front of seventy other students.

“… Haha. Gotcha.” Bill winked and grinned, before turning back to the lecture he was getting. The class gave a few snickers and I rolled my eyes; they all know I’m a daydreamer and they constantly get me riled up for it.

A few moments later Bill dismissed the class, and I gathered my books and put them in my back pack. I tipped my cowboy hat at the professor and he smiled and waved in return as I exited the room out into the daylight.

I take in a breath and smile; ah, nature. The air wasn’t quite as clean as back home, but it was still nice. And Spring is my favorite season, so there’s no reason for me to complain.

Just as I’m starting to walk away, I hear a voice call out my name, and I turn to smile at Britney and Danisha making their way over.

Oh, yeah. The girls go to college too – Britney, Danisha, Jessica and Jennifer all go to the same one as me, but the other girls go to the University.

I smile and tip my hat at them, and Britney smiles hugely.

“I still love the way you do that,” she says, nodding up at my hat. I guess it’s because she’s from London and doesn’t see cowboys too often or something.

“I love the way he does anything,” Danisha added, raising a brow as she gave me a once-over.

“Okay, okay,” I laugh, knowing that Britney and Danisha were particularly attracted to me. It doesn’t bother me too much, though. I raise my hands innocently and let out a feigned dramatic sigh. “What do you want now? Free drinks tonight?”

The three laughed lightly, before Danisha shook her head. “Nah, actually we need you to do a favor for us.”

I raise a brow, interested, but hesitant to take up the offer. I mean, these girls were… well, first of all, they’re girls. The most diabolical, scheming, conning species alive.

“Depends…” I say, testing the waters. The two girls look between each other as if they know what I’m doing, and Britney shrugs.

“It’s not like we’re asking you to help us murder someone or something,” she said, smirking.

Danisha rolled her eyes, “Tori doesn’t have a place to stay tonight. Her parents kicked her out, and none of us can take her in because of roommates, our own parents, or the fact that our apartment barely fits ourselves.”

I paled, and then felt the starting of a blush creeping up my cheeks. “Are you saying that she needs to stay with me?”

Britney shrugged. “As far as we know, Tori doesn’t have too many friends that she can turn to other than us. We’re all she has, since her parents booted her.” Her brown eyes glittered slightly, her bottom lip pushing out a bit. “Please be a gentleman and take her in…?”

Oh, great. That whiny tone of voice, that look – oh, no, Danisha was doing it too… finally I rolled my eyes and let out a defeated grumble of “fine”, and the girls squealed and hugged me gratefully.

Sometimes, it was almost as if I weren’t a guy to them. Just… a friend.

Even worse, they treated me like I were gay. I’m not a homophobe; I’m perfectly comfortable with them, but… really? I don’t give a hoot what cute shoes they got on sale, nor do I have an opinion on what shade of eye shadow best compliments their lips. Was that even possible?

“You can bring her home with you from work~” Britney singsonged as her and Danisha turned to walk away, leaving me alone in the courtyard while students milled past me.

“Eh,” I pulled off my hat when they were out of sight and tousled my dirty blond hair, as I lifted my emerald gaze up to the blue, blue sky. “What have I gotten myself into?”

I started the walk to my car – a ’90 Jeep Cherokee, red – jingling my keys in my hand as I thought. From the sounds of it, it was as if Britney and Danisha just… conjured up this plan out of nowhere. I was a bit worried, for myself and Tori. Britney and Danisha were a terrible duo, and whatever they cook up – with good intentions or not – usually cost me my dignity and pride or some other macho crap.

And in thinking along these lines, I briefly wondered if Tori herself knew that she’d be staying with me. Huh. Well, however things go, I just hoped that I wouldn’t embarrass myself in front of the girl that I’m practically in love with.

Because, well, that’d just be pitiful wouldn’t it?

--

It’s a Tuesday today, meaning that all women get in free with no cover charge, and get a punch-card that lets them get up to five free drinks. Ladies’ Night has and always will be popular; our girls shined and the guys in the club were happy that so many women were milling around. I was too; eye candy is always appreciated.

Music started up just before I picked up a dirty glass to wash and dry, and I glanced up at the stage just in time to see Tori step out from behind the curtain. Her and Maëlle were the only dancers that actually got the stage, but nobody argued otherwise. They both had moves that left guys in awe, girls in amazement, and they overall hypnotized the crowd into watching them. Yeah, they’re that great. I even find myself getting distracted watching them - … well, mostly Tori – simply because the way they moved up there demanded attention.

Attention that I was willing to give, of course.

I smile as I hear the music finally pick up tempo, knowing this routine. They do it every Tuesday, just for the ladies, and to entertain the men and get them riled up with the ‘lesbian’ act. I just always thought it was downright funny to see them dance on and touch each other, and it’d get funnier when the bills were tossed onto the stage. Of course, with this act all of the tips were given right back to the club, so we could keep supporting the ladies with free drinks and no cover charge, so there was never a squabble over who got what share.

Soon enough the night started to wind down at about one a.m., and the very last group of kids finally left. I closed up shop and moved out from behind the bar, leaning against it casually and folding my arms over my chest as I waited for the girls to come out of the dressing room. It’s a ritual for us to meet at the bar after-hours, have shots of kool-aid (yeah, we’re lame like that), and talk about that night’s happenings. It was kool-aid because all of us have school in a few hours, and we don’t want to have to stay home because we got smashed.

Drinking was for the weekends.

Anyway, the girls finally come out of the dressing room in their casual wear; most of them jeans and t-shirts, others with sweatshirts, but Reina is always an eager girl that wore the shortest of skirts and the tightest of shirts. But she was nice. I myself was in my regular ‘tending wear: black slacks, shiny shoes, and a pressed white button-down. It was nice, but casual and comfortable.

They were giggling and talking already as they approached the bar and took their usual seats, me going behind it once again to make a fresh pitcher of strawberry-kiwi kool-aid (our favorite) and listening to them as they chatted. I’m more of a listener than a talker, and besides – they were plenty fun to just listen to.

“And then he tried to grope me when I bent down,” Jennifer is ardently explaining another one of her stories, “and I nearly fell over when he grabbed my necklace and tried to keep me down!”

A few girls gasped, the others giggled. Jen was always a good storyteller – she re-enacted them with hand motions, facial expressions, and different voices and made them really fun. Whether they were completely true or not didn’t matter; the stories were always fun.

“And I said ‘Mister, you better be keepin’ your hands offa me or my boys will come and throw your sorry ass out!’. And then of course I pointed over to dear Tristan,” she gestures at me, and I blush lightly as I finish pouring the glasses and start to hand them out. “Ha! You shoulda seen the look on his face! He nearly went white as a sheet of paper, and then I’m pretty sure he left.”

The girls all laughed, and I rolled my eyes.

“Come on girls, I’m not that intimidating.” I say, sipping on my drink as I lean onto the surface of the bar.

“Whatever! Lookit’ you!” Jessica looked positively appalled that I would think otherwise. “You’re a typical cowboy, with your lean muscles and that strong-set jaw! Why, any guy would be scared o’ you, and you and I and all these girls know that the ladies fawn all over you-”

“Okay okay!” I raise my hands and quickly interrupt Jessica; by now I’m blushing red as a tomato and a few of the girls are giggling at me. Great, just what I needed. I glance over at Tori, on impulse, and she’s giggling lightly and covering her mouth delicately with her hand.

Well, do I feel like an ass or what?

A beep resounded and Britney pulled out her phone to look at a text, and then she glances at me with slightly wide eyes.

“Tristan, turn on the TV to channel four,” she said, and we all glanced at each other.

“The news?” Danisha asked, raising a brow.

“Something big just happened,” Britney said, glancing up at the TV as I move to turn it on.

A news reporter is on the scene of what looks like downtown, around where we are. There’s flashing lights and lots of commotion; I’m pretty sure I hear people screaming and crying. The news reporter turns to the camera and starts relaying what’s happening.

“KXLY breaking news, I’m Kris Crocker. Tonight a bloody murder has happened and so far, the only details we have are the murder weapon and the name of the victim.” A picture of the man flashed on the screen; an attractive young man, and I frown slightly as I think I might know him. He looks familiar… “Twenty-five year old Mike Beck was murdered this evening in his Browns’ Edition apartment, shot twice in the head after a knife was dug into his chest.”

A few of the girls gasped, and I just stared. Mike Beck? That guy was in my morning class…

“So far, no evidence has been gathered and there are no witnesses to this crime. No suspects have been gathered either, and the case is cold so far. Stay tuned and we’ll have more details at ten after the hour.”

I mute the television and stare at it for a moment, before looking back at the group. Jennifer is near tears; as far as I know, her and Mike had been quite chummy over the past few weeks. I myself am in a bit of shock – someone I knew, not personally but still, was murdered tonight.

Now, it’s not that crime doesn’t happen in our city. Of course it does. But a case like this? There were no witnesses, and no suspects! That’s a hard case to crack, and I don’t think Spokane has seen anything like this at all.

A clink and the sound of glass hitting the surface grabbed my attention, and I turn to glance at Tori who’s trying to get out of the way of the kool-aid spilling over the counter and threatening to stain her jeans. I grab a towel quickly and soak up some of the mess, and give a somewhat comforting smile to Tori. She returned it, a bit meekly; I know she’s sensitive about things like this, so a little bit of comfort never hurt.

“I… I want to go home,” Jennifer finally says, standing shakily with Jessica by her side to aid her.

“Yeah, me too.” Britney says. Maëlle and Danisha nod, and Aylana just lets out a low whistle as they all turn to leave and exit the bar, saying their goodbyes to me and Tori. Reina bowed courteously, before picking up the trail of the girls.

I glance at Tori a bit awkwardly; great, now is the time when I have to take her home with me. Smiling lightly, thank goodness she returns it, I nod my head and gesture for her to follow me as I exit the bar and lock up. The night isn’t chilly, but I hand her my jacket anyway. She’s just wearing a t-shirt, with her sweatshirt over her arms. Tori accepts it and nods her thanks, and I shrug as we start walking the short distance to my apartment.

“Thank you…” she says softly, her eyes staring pointedly at the ground.

I shrug, “It’s no big deal.” I smile. “But you know, you’re more than welcome to stay any time you need to.”

She glances up, her eyes wide. “Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly do that! I don’t want to intrude-”

“You’re not intruding,” I quickly assure her, waving a hand to placate her. “Really. I live alone, you know, and I like the company.” I blush slightly, and I see her glance away with a faint tinge of pink on her cheeks.

Under the moonlight, she looks just like an angel, I think. Her eyes are dazzling blue and glossy, her hair is shining with the light, and her skin is practically glowing. On impulse, without thinking, I wrap my arm around her shoulders. For a second she stiffens while we walk, but then she soon relaxes and presses into my side.

As far as I know, Tori’s not much of a physical person. I hardly see her touch and hug and kiss any of the girls like they all do, and I wonder if it has anything to do with her shyness or maybe how she was brought up in Japan. Hell, I haven’t even seen her in revealing clothing. Talk about modest.

Not that I want her to wear skanky clothes… she works the jeans and sweatshirt deal rather nicely, I think.

Moments pass and soon enough we’re at my apartment complex. It doesn’t look like an apartment so much as a building with lots of rooms and fancy decorations on the outside. There’s two staircases on the outside – one leads up, and the other leads down. Basically, two stories with one above ground and the one under. I’m in the underground one. I lead her down the stairs and she follows, glancing around curiously. In the distance we can hear the sirens and the choppers reporting the news, and I let out a sigh.

“That’s the problem with living downtown,” I say, knowing that Tori lives in Spokane Valley, about a twenty minute drive. “Lots of violence… but Brown’s Edition is the worst place.” Even rappers like Snoop Dogg have talked about how Brown’s Edition is one of the worst ghettos in the states. Makes me a bit nervous to live here, but I’ve got a gun license and a .44 so I think I’m pretty good.

“Ah,” she nods, still speaking softly as we approach the door to my apartment. It’s a little old, you can tell, and when I put in the key there’s a horrible crunching noise before the locks loosen and I can turn the knob.

I laugh, a bit embarrassed, and then let her in first before I follow. The setup of my apartment is simple; the first room we enter is basically the living room. I have a couch, a TV, some decorations… it’s just simple. The next room, going straight forward through a large archway, is the kitchen. Fridge, sink, dishwasher, table and some chairs – whatever. And then directly after that is the smallest room, the bedroom. I could just barely fit my king-sized bed in there when I moved in; it was so big I had to get rid of the frame and just sleep on the mattress on the floor. The bathroom branches off of the kitchen, and is shared with the neighbors and boxed in by the locking doors on either side for privacy.

“It’s nice…” I hear Tori comment as she enters and glances around, taking in all that could be taken in.

I blush a bit; my place was clean, and it didn’t look like a bachelor lived there at all. Then again, I’m sort of a neat person…

Tori turns and smiles at me suddenly, before sitting down on the couch. “Ooh~ comfy.”

I think this is the most she’s ever spoken to me without me asking her anything. It’s… weird, but nice all the same.

She places her purse on the coffee table and rummages through it for a hair tie, gathering her hair and placing it in a low ponytail. Her beautiful neck is exposed, and I gulp and turn away to prevent myself from staring. I hear her fidgeting a bit more, and when I turn and see her lying down and covering herself with a blanket, I nearly trip over myself when I went to protest.

“N-No! You can have the bed; I’ll sleep on the couch.” I say quickly, and she just gives me a look that says ‘are you crazy?’.

“Eh? It’s your place, you should sleep in the bed…” she lies down and smiles at me, her gaze soft. “I’m fine here. Your couch is comfortable.”

It is, I know she’s not lying. But still… oh, what the hell. I’m not going to win the argument. I shrug and wave a hand, and then offer her something to drink – she declines, and then I move into the bathroom so I can get undressed and into my pajama pants. I exit and glance over at Tori, who’s already drifting off to sleep, and smile lightly.

“Good night,” I say softly, as I turn to my bed and lay down on it. Before I drifted off, I heard a faint “g’night” before I too drifted off into dreamland.

--

The next morning, I woke up to my alarm buzzing annoyingly. I groan and roll over, my fist connecting with the radio clock and sending it to the floor – a distance of about six inches – and then let out a sigh when I hear the batteries fall out. I start to drift off again, but when I hear a sizzling noise and the smell of something being cooked, I sit up straight and glance around quickly.

“Morning sleepy head,” I hear come from the kitchen, and when my eyes finally adjust, I see Tori standing at the stove, spatula in hand as she was cooking… eggs? Hash browns? Oh dear, this is the woman of my dreams.

I reach to the small make shift table I made out of old books and grab my glasses, placing them on the bridge of my nose and smiling a bit as my vision cleared and sharpened. I stood up and stretched, forgetting that I was shirtless and just in a pair of pj pants, and when I glanced at Tori and saw her blushing, I blushed a bit too. Ah, a shirt would be nice. I picked one up off of the floor and pulled it on before padding into the kitchen and peering over Tori’s shoulder into the frying pan.

“You didn’t have to cook for me…” I said, smiling at her. She only blushed and shrugged.

I went about setting the table, plates and forks and cups and all, and then sat down and ran a hand through my hair to try and tame the messy locks.

“Your alarm has been going off for an hour. I figured I might as well wake you up some how,” she said simply, shrugging and smiling as she served the plates.

I blink, and then nearly jump out of my skin. “An hour!?” Shit, my alarm goes off at six and my first class starts at seven! “I’m going to be late-”

A surprisingly strong grip on my forearm stops me from bolting from the table, and I turn to see Tori looking up at me through long lashes. “Professor left a message on the machine, and said class was canceled because he was going to see Mike’s parents…”

A bit elated, I sigh and sit back down, running my hand down my face as I let out a sigh. “I can’t believe someone murdered him… he was such a good guy! What could he have done?” Now, I didn’t know him personally, as I said, but still anyone could notice that he was a good guy.

Well-mannered, polite, a gentleman… there was no reason someone should want to kill him. Tori just shrugged and avoided the conversation, as she pulled out the ketchup and set it on the table, us starting to eat in relative silence – save for me voicing my appreciation of Tori’s fabulous cooking.

Some time later we were finished up, Tori doing the dishes at the sink and me showering in the bathroom. I stepped out in just a towel, forgetting once again that Tori was there, and meandered into my bedroom without so much as a second glance at the sink to see who was making the noise. When I hear a squeak and the sound of a dish clattering and breaking on the floor, I glance up wide-eyed to see Tori blushing furiously and working to pick up the broken pieces of a plate.

“Hey, don’t do that-” I quickly move into the kitchen, towel still wrapped around my waist as I kneeled to help Tori. “You could cut yourself.”

“No, I wo- ouch!” She hissed and brought her index finger to her lips, sucking on the tip as blood blossomed out of it. I roll my eyes and give her an “I told you so” look, and she merely glares lightly. “If you weren’t being so inconsiderate of me, I wouldn’t have dropped the dish…”

“Sorry for living,” I retort, a bit surprised that Tori would say something like that. And that I would say something as such in return! I glance up and see her wincing as she sucks on her finger, and I reach out to take her hand in mine. She flinches, but allows me to examine her finger while she averts her gaze.

“Here,” I say, bringing her up with me as I stand and reach into one of the cupboards, searching around for my band-aids. She stays silent as I stick her hand under cold water, and she keeps it there while I grab a towel and open up the band-aid. I dried her finger and wrapped the bandage around it, and without thinking I pressed a kiss to it.

Her blush was brilliant, and she glanced up at me with wide eyes. My own green orbs met hers, and for a moment, time just stopped. My heart was pounding against my chest, and her cheeks were still slightly flushed as I leaned in just a few inches. She reacted by leaning in as well, and just before our lips met, she whispered something that I tossed away at the moment, but regret doing so now.

“I’m not who you think I am…”

Not caring about whether or not she was finished, I closed the distance, my hand still holding hers as our lips touched. The first touch was electric, but then again there was static electricity coming from her hair and sweatshirt. So we both flinched, and she giggled while I chuckled lightly, and then pressed my lips to hers again. Her lips… they’re just as soft and velvety as I imagined. Warm and slightly moist, with a faint flavor of her chapstick.

I feel her shudder and move closer to me, her fingers and palms resting against my chest as our heads tilt and our lips part. Funny, most girls wrap their arms around my neck when I kiss them… oh well. Her hands were nice where they were. Soon enough our tongues met, slightly shy at first, but Tori gained the upper hand and plunged into my mouth. Needless to say I was a bit shocked and let out a small whimper of surprise, and I could feel the curve of her lips as she smirked. She was… oddly aggressive, for such a little thing.

Her nails raked down my chest, and I arched into the touch as I raised one hand to cradle her head and pull her closer by her sharp hipbones with the other. … Sharp hip bones? But… girls were soft and curvy, not sharp and… defined. My hand kept exploring, and the more I touched of her through the material of her sweatshirt as we kissed, my heart was racing. Her stomach was flat and on the hard side, not fleshy and voluptuous. The curve of her back wasn’t so much of an ‘s’ as it was a ‘c’, and when she broke away from the kiss to start trailing kisses down my jaw, I pushed her away gently with a small gasp.

“What-…” I was panting slightly, and she was too, her eyes darkened considerably. A few seconds passed as she tried to register, and I could practically see the gears turning in her head.

Twist. Twist. Churn. Click.

“Oh my God.” She balked and stepped backward, running into the counter and holding onto it for support. She looks like she’d just seen a ghost! I blink and frown slightly, reaching forward to touch her, but she pushes my hand away.

“Don’t touch me,” she said, moving away and out of the kitchen as she whisked into the living room to start collecting her things.

“Wait, what are you doing?”

“Not you, obviously,” she bit, and my brows rise in obvious surprise.

“Excuse me?” I say, incredulous as she shoves things into her purse and straightens, pulling her hair back into a high ponytail.

“I’ll see you tonight,” she says, dismissing me rather rudely as she makes way for the door.

Still clad in a towel and not caring, I dash in front of her and lean against the door, my hand on the knob to prevent her from grabbing it. She huffs and looks up at me, crystalline eyes bright with a bit of anger.

“Let me out,” Tori demands, and I shake my head.

“What are you so freaked out about?” I ask, utterly curious now. She was the one making the advances, and then she just decides to leave like that? No way!

“It’s none of your business.” Her tone was clipped as she reached for the knob, but my grip tightened on it.

“It is too my business,” I say, looking at her intensely. “You just got me nearly half hard in my own kitchen, practically started to ravish me, and then you try to leave? No. Not happening.”

She sneered lightly, her lips turning up in a smirk. “You think you can get me to stay?”

“I can damn well try.”

“Hah.”

Tori moved to push me out of the way, but it ended up in a bit of a scuffle. Our limbs entangled and our balance was upset as she flailed and squeaked, trying to reach for the handle that I neglected – and soon enough we found ourselves on the floor rolling around, one trying to pin the other.

“Get off of me, you oaf!” She shrieked, and I only grunted.

“Not until you tell me what the hell is going on!”

“It’s none of your damned business!”

“I swear I’ll get it out of you!”

“No—eee!”

Aha! She’s ticklish. I use this discovery to my advantage and start tortuously raking my fingers up and down her firm sides and stomach, and with each laugh I can feel her abdominal muscles turning to rock. Soon enough she pushes up with her hips, and something hard connects with my hip before I’m pushed off of her. She scrambles away and scoots on her rear towards my couch, leaning against it and gasping for breath.

Her hair has come out of the tie and it’s falling all over her shoulders and her face, and her chest is rapidly rising with her breasts. It was that little physical motion of hers that made me notice… she was relatively flat-chested. How could I have not noticed? Well, I know that typically dancers don’t have breasts, but… still.

“Jerk! You cheated!” She huffed indignantly, her knees together but bent up, her feet skewed and her arms wrapping around her legs. My eyes catch sight of something, but she quickly closes her legs and kneels on them.

“If you tell me, I swear I won’t tickle you again.”

“If I tell you, you’ll never want to talk to me again!”

Silence fell over us, and I blinked while she bit her bottom lip nervously. Never… want to talk to her? What the hell did she mean?

“What the hell do you mean?”

She rolled her eyes and huffed, cheeks puffing out as she glanced up and stared out of the window. “I… I’ve never told anyone before, so I don’t think you should know.”

“Well, you gotta tell at least one person, right?” I say, trying to coax her into saying it. It was partly for her comfort, to get some weight off of her (flat) chest, and partly to cure my curiosity. Damn, she has me curious!

“…” She hesitates, before turning to look at me. “How much do you like me, Tristan?”

I blink, and then answer without hesitation. “A lot.”

“Nothing about me would change that? Nothing at all?”

I frown and tilt my head, slightly confused. “Well… yeah. I like you for who you are. Your pluses and minuses.”

“And… you’re sure about that?” She pressed on, and I nodded my head and she let out a sigh. “Because… I really like you too, Tristan. Only… what I’m about to tell you could change everything.”

Shifting and readjusting my towel, since it was slipping and I saw her eyes following it, I waited patiently for her admittance.

“Well… all right. But don’t you speak a word to anyone, okay? Not a peep, not a suggestion, don’t even look at someone and think about it, okay?”

Jesus, talk about laying down the law.

“I promise.”

Tori took a breath, and I unconsciously did too, and then she nearly pinned me to the wall with her gaze.

“I’m a boy.”

…

I give her a blank stare. “I’m not sure I follow.”

She rolls her eyes, and then stands up and starts to unbutton her pants. My eyes widen; oh, God, the girl of my dreams is unbuttoning her pants, pulling them down, revealing lacy blue underwear, and—

… WOAH!

Girls do NOT have that in their underwear!