You Baka.

I got home after grocery shopping, putting me at around five. It was starting to get dark, I noted, fishing my keys out of my pocket. Fall was most definately here.
Walking through the door, I greet my cat, Koco, with my own version of a meow. Making my way to the kitchen, I had to avoid tripping over him or stepping on his tail, almost every other second; he was lacing himself between my feet, rubbing against my boots and legs affectionately. He knew I\'d bought him some treats.
\"Sneaky kitty.\" I smile, setting the bags in my arms down on the counter so I could lean down to pet him. \"You want a snack? Huh? Okay, hang on.\"
I pulled the small bags out, singing the Meow-Mix song as I read the labels.
\"Alriiight, we\'ve got Tuna...um, Turkey, and Beef. Of course, I also got...\" I bent down, a sliver of meat held between my index and middle fingers, shaking it. \"Liver!\"
He stood on his hind legs, trying to reach it. I put it in my palm, holding it out for him; he then decided he would take his time at licking the juice away first, as well as cleaning my palm and fingertips, before taking it in his teeth and running off.

\"Didn\'t figure you for an animal lover.\" I turned, almost knocking myself out on the counter top.
\"Zell!\" I gasped, already on the ground. My tailbone was aching, screaming at me for being caught off guard. \"How the hell did you get in?\"
He smirks, holding up a brass key. \"Your landlady seems to think we\'re related.\"
\"Ohhh,\" I groan, slowly getting to my feet. \"You didn\'t say we were brothers, did you?\"
\"Of course not. We\'re \'almost-brother-in-laws\'.\"
I groan again, leaning down as to press my forehead to the counter; it almost disappointed me, in some odd way I\'m sure I didn\'t understand. But as it had done so, I had to try to think of why it could be that at that almost-cheerful remark, that the bottom of my heart pulled, while the top felt heavy, and sagged. Or maybe I was feeling heavy all over? It was getting harder to tell things apart, with my body and heart, anyway. The two were criss-crossing, doing the other\'s job, and I didn\'t appreciate it one little bit.

\"I don\'t suppose you came here to congratulate me on the hire.\" I didn\'t mean it as a question, because I was damn sure that that was the farthest thing from the true reason behind our little sharp-shooters visitation.
\"Right. Why I\'m here.\" He actually made himself appear surprised- almost human, even; surprised that he\'d gotten off track, that he\'d forgotten all about the business behind the small chat. He straightened up considerably, and it only then dawned on me that he\'d come out here out of uniform, and that Zell, the one person I have never been able to understand, had really actually been acting like he was comfortable, and easy-going. But now he was all business, even in the tight jeans he wore, even with his tight black crop-top, tied in a low V to show off a good expanse of smooth flesh stretched taut over a delicate- though masculine- frame... - -
Oh my god. I turn to face away, breath caught in my throat as I tried not to choke on my own tongue as I bit down onto it, roughly as I did; I was getting a boner. Oh my god, this could not be happening, I could not be getting hard because of Zell, and that class-A body of his.
\"Gaffey, what\'s wrong?\" He must have seen the brief look of horror that had crossed my face before I\'d looked away, before I had a chance to close my mouth and put my jaw right back up where it was supposed to be. Shit.
His voice dropped, softer and lower, and completely not helping the matter. \"Calyx...\"
Shiiiit, say something! And tell him to get his hand off of your shoulder, while you\'re at it. Why don\'t you let him know how your stomach is jerking, dropping out and spiralling as his other hand slips across the flat surface of it, just beneath the cotton top that you\'re wearing?

Wait.
His...
Zell\'s hands. . .

\"Zell.\" It sounded like a croak, even to me. \"I, I just feel sick. That\'s why I almost didn\'t come in this morning.\" I felt his hand on my lower belly pause, resting just beneath my bellybutton as if it froze in motion- a stillness that still gave life. \"I\'ll be fine, though; you don\'t need to hold me up, I\'m not gonna faint.\"
I felt dry, soft lips press against the back of my neck, at first only brushing the skin and small hairs, then pushing gently flat to the sensative flesh his mouth found. I swallow, hard, probably hard enough that he could hear the sound of it, and fight back a small bout of shivers. He just...he just had no idea, what he was doing to me right now. The feeling of his mouth, the touch of his hands, the warm, crisp scent of him snaking around me like vines threatening to entangle me. I was lost at sea.
\"Zell.\" I repeated, lips suddenly dry- parched, and thirsting for a fountain to wet them. ...Or tongue. No! No, I cant be thinking that! Not now, not with his hand...not with...not with his hand dipping...lower. . .

My hands shot out to grip the sink, white-knuckled as my knees threatened to give out beneath me. I could feel my heartbeat jump, starting to race at what had to be a most unhealthy pace. If I didn\'t have a heart attack, I\'d be hella surprised.
His hand from my shoulder snaked beneath my arm and around my chest, holding me up, giving me support while he pressed his body into mine, sandwhiching me between his hips and the sink. What was his right hand was teasing over the fly of my pants, threatening to pull away at any moment, while at the same time making unsaid promises of release.
\"Is that what\'s got you feeling so sick, Calyx?\" he whispers, and if I didn\'t know any better, I\'d say seducingly so. Zell, seductive? Well, okay so it wasn\'t such a far-fetch, the guy screamed \'do-able\', reeked of charm, and had that bad-ass attitude everyone loved so much. But being purposefully inviting, actually doing such a great act as charming another person- who, may I say, was in their golden days of sexual peaks and youth?... It just seemed, oh what\'s the word? Weird. Creepy. Odd. Out-of-place. Okay, too many words. It was strange, yes that was it, strange, because I never saw this side of him before. ...Not that I wasn\'t enjoying it...

\"Is our Foxx feeling a little frustrated?\" he continued in that same low whisper, warm breath tickling over the skin beneath my earlobe, right over the pulse. Right. Over. An errogenous zone. \"Are you feeling down because you can\'t get any release, Gaffey?\"
\"Fuck you.\" I whisper, practically shaking as his hand moves to actually slide down into my pants. His fingertips were searching, and much as I wanted them to find, I\'d be damned if I let him get the best of me. I press my hips against the sink edge hard, pinning his wrist down in what must have been a horrible position for him, painful as it must be. But he sucks in a quiet breath, letting out a quick, hot exhale of air onto the back of my neck. -Trying to pull away by instinct, but overriding it as best as he could hold himself. He knew if he pulled, that one: it would only hurt worse, adding more pressure, and scraping skin along bare and unfinished wood; and two: that he\'d be giving in to little ol\' me.
\"Fucking you is exactly what I had in mind.\" I can feel him smile against my neck as he once again positions himself tightly against me, as if he can no longer feel the sting of unsanded pine digging into his flesh. \"But you\'re not exactly giving in to what we both want, now are you?\"
Something told me he wasn\'t expecting an answer, so I didn\'t offer one. Instead, I said,
\"I don\'t think we\'re compatible, Zell.\" I felt that sly grin slip over my lips, and I let it comfort me. I wasn\'t in an \'agreeable\' mood, so to speak; I\'d felt like rebelling all day, but had let it settle for the sake of behaving at work. But this, heh, no this was the time when it\'s alright to act out and be the bad boy, for once in a very, very long time. \"Remember how we met, Zell? Remember that? I offered you my body, and you refused. Now you ask for it, and I\'ll tell you flat out: once is once, and this aint then.\"
He smirked, I think, something as common as his scowls, and his fingers flexed, brushing me and bringing to my attention just how sensative I was feeling down yonder. Reminding me he still held control of me, just a little, and more, if I only gave in to him. \"What are you fighting it for, Calyx? You\'re upset that I wouldn\'t sleep with a total stranger, so you deny us both, two years after the fact?\" He scoffed, but there was a lilt to it, and I knew he was smiling as he said it.
\"I used to sleep with strangers.\" I could hear the edge in my voice, and I let it grow as venemous as I possibly could without having to raise my voice even the slightest bit. I let each word draw out, dripping with threat and despise, as it often did when I felt betrayed, or offended. \"I don\'t anymore, and you taught me that. But you\'re a stranger to me, Zell. I don\'t know a thing about you, outside of your employment position, and call name. I don\'t even know if Zell IS your last name, or if it\'s just your call name, like mine is Foxx. I don\'t even know the color of your goddamn eyes, for christs\' sake. I know you have a perfect body, but I couldn\'t tell you a thing about it except that you come off as someone built to be the deadliest assassin alive.\" I actually give a little laugh at the end of that sentence, knowing that it was all true, right down to the assassin part. Zell was a sharp-shooter, an Eagle-eye as we called him. He was just that good at what he did.

He tensed, and I felt a bitter satisfaction. Had I wounded his pride, hurt him? I didn\'t care, really, except that I had gotten the chance to catch him offguard and had thus succeeded.
\"You really are harsh, you know that?\" Now that surprised ME, and I wondered if I heard him right. Had I...seriously hurt him? More than wounding his pride, had I actually clipped a vein and broke into his emotions? He continued, abruptly seizing my moment of vulnerability to pull me back and spin me around. \"Grey.\"

I blinked, having expected him to hit me. And what, he was naming colors? \"What?\" I ask, feeling like a complete idiot.
\"My eyes are grey. My favorite color is black, and I like oranges, and despise apples. My last name IS Zell, and I don\'t know my first name; I\'ve had amnesia since I was fifteen. My prize material posessions are a red speed cycle, and a silver charm that has my first and middle initials carved into it, followed by my surname and birthdate.\"

I blinked, far too rapidly, as my mind spun around these words and thoughts, and tried to process them. Zell didn\'t like apples? Wait, Zell had amnesia? And I looked into those eyes, hard, ad realized they were grey, just like he said; in fact, they were the color of grey that the sky takes on, right after a big storm.

\"I\'m allergic to dogs, but I\'ve always wanted a labrador that can curl up with an orange tabby mix. I hate spaghetti, but I love lasagna, and parmesan cheese is a must. I like motorcycles better than cars or trucks, but you put me in any automobile, and I can promise you I know how to handle it. I\'m good with my hands, and I\'m not lacking in thought process, either. I DON\'T have a perfect body, and I only work out once a week. I have a scar on the back of my right shoulder blade, slanting to the bottom and edging left. Anything else you want to know, Gaffey?\"
I was...speechless. What was there to possibly say, after hearing all that?

\"Are you going to fuck me, or not?\"

...Sometimes, I don\'t think before I speak.