YOU. WILL. WRITE. oh you want to write so bad. all the motivation is here. the plot is so good. words come to you so naturally. YOU ARE GOING TO WRITE. RIGHT NOW.
Warnings-Smut, Oral (M&F receiving), Fingering, Choking, Hair pulling, Praise, P in V, Cursing, Drugs/Alcohol, Slapping
I knew the rule -no pogue on pogue macking-, so why couldnβt I follow it? I tried, I tried for years. Iβd ignore his texts, pretend he wasnβt funny, pretend those abs didnβt exist, pretended he didnβt smell so good, make sure we were never alone. Iβd pretend those eyes didnβt make me melt, pretend that his standing next to me didnβt send a shiver down me spine. Iβd tried to pretend I wasnβt madly in love with JJ Maybank.
Iβd known JJ for my whole life. We had been best friends since diapers, my father having been friends -and just as equally shitty as him- with JJβs father. Weβd been JUST friends, so why did I feel differently?
Kiara mocked the way I dated different boys to replace JJ, different meaningless flings, each one looking more and more like JJ. I gave up, assuming it was hopeless, JJ would never betray his friends and break that vow, neither would I, until tonight.
The song thrummed through the house, smoke from different vapes, joints and bongs filled the air, alcohol and fire blending into the smell. I enjoyed the party that the pogues and I had been planning for weeks, John B. figures something good needs to come from his father being missing. I danced on a random tourist, his hands grabbing at my hips and ass desperately. I could feel him staring. He was lurking in a corner when I spotted him, arm slung lazily over some blonde, lips puffing on a joint tucked between his fingers. Everything felt like it was in slow motion, like one of the scenes that only happen in movies. I swayed against the boy, ass pressed tightly against him, eyes never leaving JJβs. He continued to smoke the joint, never looking away. The song ended and I began to feel dizzy from the way JJ looked at me, he was intoxicating. I pushed myself from the boy and walked away.
The cool breeze danced across my chest as the door slammed behind me. Stepping out onto the porch I thanked myself for having brought a flannel. I slipped it onto my shoulders, trying to breathe and shake away the thought of JJ just a few feet away inside. I couldnβt tell if it was the weed, the alcohol, or simply just being done with the constant yearning but I made up my mind, no more pretending I didnβt want him.
I shut the screen door, locking eyes with him again. He smirked, God, that smirk. He winked and a shock ran straight to my core. My stomach twisted with butterflies and I decided I couldnβt do it without a drink. I made my way to the kitchen, quickly downing the first shot of whatever alcohol I could find. I sent the text, took a deep breath, and walked towards the spare room.
I swallowed hard as JJ opened the door, βYou okay?β he asked hesitantly as he stood in the doorframe, the door still open.
βJ, Iβm tired of pretending.β I sigh fidgeting with a string from my shirt.
βWhat are you talking about?β He closes the door, separating the party from us, the room getting nervously silent.
βJJ, I love you, Iβve loved you since we were kids.β I blurt.
βSince we were kids?β He looks at me confusingly. βSo why are you just now saying something?β
βI was scared, there was the rule, and our friendship, and you always had some girl, and Iβm just tired of pretending.β I stand there in shock as JJ presses his lips to mine, itβs only a few moments before Iβm melting into him. My fingers tangle in his hair, his hands finding my ass and sliding down, gripping the back of my thighs and lifting me up. I wrap my legs around his waist as our lips and tongue clash in a heated passion.
βStop pretending, playing pretend is for kids. Weβre adults now, doll.β He smirks, leaning his head against mine.
His words are all the confirmation I need before Iβm pressing my lips to his again, desperately, hungrily.
βIs that tequila?β He laughs as he pulls his face from mine.
βOh, shut up and fuck me, Maybank.β I plead as I kiss his neck.
βYes maβam.β He tosses me onto the bed, locking the door and tossing his shirt off to the side somewhere. He climbs over me, his leg slotting between my thighs. His pushes his thigh into me and I whine, grinding myself desperately against him.
βFuck, J, please donβt tease.β My fingers tug softly as his hair.
βItβs so hot when you whine.β He groans, sliding the flannel off me. He presses light, torturous kisses to my chest. I moan as he bites and sucks small bruises into my skin. He flips us, rolling hips against him as I straddle him. His hands explore me, grabbing my thighs, tugging my hair, tracing the top of my shorts, groping gently at my boob inside my top. His fingers trace the string of my bikini to the knot behind my neck, his eyes locking with mine. I nod my head and he pulls the string, biting his lip at the way it falls over, exposing me. I gasp softly as the cold air hits my exposed nipple and he smacks it softly.
βDo it again.β I beg. He listens, smacking softly at my tits again. He mumbles an βmhmβ as he takes one in his mouth, swirling his tongue around my nipple. He continues to rock me onto him, pushing my hips down. I whine and moan as I rock against him, desperate for relief.
βFuck, baby, the things Iβm gonna do to you.β His tone is dark when he says it, his blue eyes now darker and lustblown. Goosebumps cover my body and I rock my hips faster, chasing my release. βNot yet, darlinβ, not yet.β He mumbles against skin as his kisses my neck, his hands resting on my hips. He flips us again, standing up and hovering over me. He tugs my shorts down, hooking his fingers in my panties and sliding them off too. His fingers grip my the insides of my thighs hard enough to bruise as he spreads my legs, licking his lips hungrily as he stares at my cunt, puffy and dripping with arousal. He leans in, I can feel his breath on my clit, blowing softly as if it were a dandelion.
βPlease, please,β I buck my hips up towards his face. He kneels in front of the bed, kissing my thighs. He hooks his arms around my thighs and pulls me towards him. He gives me one final look before dropping his head between my thighs. His lips wrap around my clit and he sucks as if itβs the last thing heβll ever get to taste. He lets two fingers play at my entrance dangerously as he laps hungrily at me. I moan and wrote under his touch, the familiar knot building in my stomach. His fingers slide in me and my back arches off the bed. JJ slides his free hand across my stomach, holding me flat on the bed as he pumps his fingers in me at a rapid pace and his tongue is flat, toying painfully at my bundle of nerves.
βTaste so good, I canβt wait to be inside you.β The sight is sinful. His hair hangs over eyes, his once bright blue eyes are now dark and filled with hunger, his face glistens with my juices. He curls his fingers as he smirks, βCum for me, ma.β His words send me spilling over the edge. I come undone around his fingers as a string of curses leave my lips. βGood girl.β He coaxes.
My eyes screw shut as I try to catch my breath, pleasure riding over me in waves. I open my eyes in time to see JJ sliding kicking his boots off, fumbling with the button of his shorts.
βLet me help.β I smile, getting off the bed and kneeling in front him. I unbutton his pants, sliding them down and taking a sharp breath at the large imprint in his boxers.
βWhatβs wrong, doll, afraid itβs too big?β He mocks in a cocky tone. I roll my eyes, letting my fingers tease his v-line before slide his boxers down. His member springs out, his tip red and covered in precum. I take him in my mouth, just the tip at first. I let my tongue rub over it, teasing him as he did me. His hand tangles in my hair and he forces himself down my throat with a deep groan.
βFuck, you suck me so good.β He grunts. He bucks his hips into my mouth, tears streaming down my face. βYou look so good with me in your mouth.β He moans. I use my hand to take what doesnβt fit and continue to bob my head. I let my tongue brush against him. My throat aches but his moans encourage me. I continue until my hairs pulled right around his hand as cradles the back of my head, forcing me down as his hips buck up, cum painting my throat. I pull away with a loud βpopβ.
βIβve fantasized about that.β I giggle softly, my throat raw, lips swollen and face streaked with mascara.
βYou did so good, my pretty girl.β He helps me up, laying me on the bed as he presses a soft kiss to my lips. He lines himself up with me, my nails digging into his back with anticipation.
βI love you.β I smile.
βI love you, too.β He smiles back, sliding into me. Itβs a dull, burning, stretch at first. He pushes himself in until heβs bottomed out, burying his face in my neck. The pain soon turns to pleasure and heβs slowly thrusting into me. He lifts his head, kissing my jawline.
βFeel so good inside me, J.β I moan, arching my head back.
βFuck, I canβt tell you how long Iβve waited for this.β He whispers into my ear.
The loving side of him quickly fades and heβs leaned over me, a hand on my throat as he pounds into me. The room is filled with moans, curses, the headboard, and the sound of our skin. His thumb rubs circles on my clit and I cry out in pleasure.
βOh, God, Iβm so close.β My back is arched off the bed, eyes screwed shut, my hands scramble between tugging at JJβs hair, clawing at his back, and gripping at the sheets.
βGo on, cum for me baby, cum on this dick.β His words send me over the edge. I clench around him, vision blurring as my skin burns from my orgasm. His climax follows mine as he pulls out, covering my stomach in thick ropes of cum.
-`β‘Β΄- "so much for summer love, saying 'us', cause you weren't mine to lose."
β°βΊ august - starring conrad fisher.
synopsis: it had always been you and conrad. you'd loved him when you hadn't even known what love really was, and he felt the same. you start to think love isn't enough when life tears the two of you apart, only to rekindle in the dead of summer, alone in the beach house.
warnings: eventual smut, but like they get freaky asf, conrad king of yearning, , angst, not timeline canon, ex's, character death and cancer mentioned
wc: 8.3k
notes: conrad fisher my close personal friend. i adore you. bonus points if you can name all the taylor lyrics i snuck in here, also conrad munch confirmed. ALSO i might stop writing these out of order. don't sue me
you'd learned what love was from disney movies, from your mom and dad kissing in the kitchen, from the slow songs that filled your house on sundays when there was nothing to do but clean and laze around. each time you pictured it, your prince charming, your sunday kind of love, you pictured green eyes, messy brown hair, freckles and suntanned cheeks. conrad. in every book, in every song on the radio, in every film rolled kiss, there he was. at the end of every school year, the relief you felt wasn't from classes being dismissed. it was him, always him, waiting for you in cousins, your very own heaven. he had his mothers eyes, her kindness, her gentle touch. you had your mother's ability to fall into a fisher's orbit, natural as anything, attaching to him just as she had susannah. conrad beck fisher, the love of your life, even before you were old enough to truly understand what it meant.
the first time you were sure of it, he was fussing over your injured knee after you'd fallen off your bike, never once scolding you for crying like your brother and jeremiah had. "it's gonna be okay," he'd said softly, so grown up even when he was so young, wiping your blood on his shirt like he didn't mind the stain. you'd thought, then, that that's how you'd like to be treated forever. he was always there, cleaning up messes, bandaging scrapes, like he didn't realize how rare that was. loving him was as easy as breathing, when it was all you knew.
years later, when you were old enough not to need his help at every turn, the love only grew. you didn't always need him, but he was always there, just in case you did. you kissed him that summer, the year you turned fifteen. he'd taken you out to the beach, your birthday gift tucked safely into his back pocket. "it's not much," he said as you tore into the neatly wrapped paper, biting the inside of his cheek as he watched you, "but you deserved something special," you slid the box open, and there it was, glittering and new. a small chain with a c dangling from it. "for cousins," he clarified, rubbing the back of his neck, "so you always have a part of it with you, no matter where you are," "oh, conrad," your fingertip traced the letter, tears threatening to spill over your lash line, "i love it,"
"are you sure? i know it's not a lot, but-" you set the necklace down carefully, leaning forward, nearly kissing him, "i promise it's perfect," "good," he swallowed, and you could hear his throat shift, "you deserve it," you sat still for a moment, heart racing, your nose nearly bumping his, "can i kiss you?" "what?" he blinked, like he'd misheard you, "i- yes, yeah, please," he'd pulled you forward at the same time you'd leaned in, your lips crashing together, messy and uncoordinated. you were breathless when you pulled away, cheeks warm, giddy with happiness, "was that okay?" "that was perfect," he'd smiled, eyes bright, "i didn't know you felt that way, i would've- i don't know, i would've said something sooner,"
"that's okay," you laughed, too happy to mind, pulling the necklace from the box carefully, "help me put this on?" "of course," he nodded quickly, brushing your hair from your neck, carefully clasping it. when you turned to face him, he traced the silver lightly, straightening the charm, "happy birthday, honey," "thank you, con," you hummed, nearly giggling as he leaned in to kiss you again, light and soft. he walked you back up to the house when it had gotten too late to stay out, pausing at your door, eyes on your lips, "goodnight," "goodnight," you whispered, standing on your tiptoes and kissing his cheek before disappearing behind the door, smiling to yourself. he stood out in the hall, fingers lingering on the spot your lips had just been.
after that, you were inseparable, even more than usual. you spent every second of the summers together, and when he got into college, he'd drive up to see you through the year. time flew by, a year and then two, then before you knew it, it had been three years of nearly perfect happiness. you'd done it all together, you'd gone to his graduation and he'd been at yours, flowers in hand. you'd seen him off to college, then welcomed him back on breaks. countless hours on facetime, a constant stream of texts, everything. it all changed when susannah's cancer came back.
he became withdrawn, quiet, even angry at times. nightly calls became more sporadic, and his texts were short, the lack of affection clear. he didn't visit on his fall break, gave you some last minute excuse about falling behind on coursework. you told yourself it didn't matter, that it was normal, that all couples had rough patches. you'd work through it, because it was conrad. the behavior continued, only worsening, and soon enough it was january, and you were packing to move to new york, a long contemplated decision.
conrad pulled into the driveway of your parents house the night before you were set to fly out, bags under his eyes and an uneasiness in his demeanor. "hey, honey," he murmured as you met him outside, smiling wide, throwing your arms around his shoulders. "missed you s'much, connie," your voice was muffled by his neck as you clung to him, standing on your tiptoes, his arms around your waist. "missed you too," he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, pulling back to look at you as if he was surveying your face for damage, "you're so beautiful," you grinned, cheeks warming under his praise like it was the very first time, "stop it," you giggled, pulling him inside behind you, "i'm sure you're exhausted from the drive. do you wanna lay down?" he only nodded, following you up the stairs, the rest of the house already dim and quiet.
"i can't believe i'm leaving," you sighed, curling up on your twin size mattress beside him, "i guess it's not that far, though," "not that far," he repeated, fingers tracing your spine absentmindedly, "it's 3000 miles," "good thing there's planes," you pressed a kiss to his shoulder, "we're gonna be fine," he didn't answer, just lied there, his chest rising with steady breaths. "con?" you spoke after a moment, a hint of worry creeping into your voice. "hm?" he hummed, eyes closed. "we're gonna be fine, right?" "you didn't seem that concerned about it when you made the decision," it came out, rough and quiet, like he hadn't meant to say it, "but yeah. we'll be fine,"
"i asked you," you sat up, pressing your back against the headboard, "you told me to go. even when i said i'd stay," "what makes you think i want you to stay?" he sounded so tired, so resigned, "i want you to do what's best for you, and if you feel like that's new york, then it's new york," "then why do you sound so mad?" "jesus," he ran a hand over his face, sighing and sitting up, "i'm just- i just think maybe if you leave," he trailed off, the sentence dangling in the air, open ended. "what?" you leaned forward, brows furrowed, "you think what, conrad?" "i think 45 hours is a long drive, and 6 hours is a long flight, and i think i'm not crazy about my girlfriend moving to the farthest place she can away from me but i can't say that," he took in a breath, sharp and quick, "i think i'm scared of the inevitable and i don't want us to end up hating each other,"
"the inevitable," you echoed, voice hollow, "you think it's inevitable? you think we can't survive some time apart? we've been doing it this whole time, conrad," "no," he shook his head, running a hand through his hair, "we've been doing stanford to portland. that's nothing compared to this," "so what, then, you think we just can't manage it? like if i go, that's it?" "i think i'm scared," his voice cracked under the weight of everything he couldn't tell you, "i'm terrified and i'd rather cut our losses than end up ruining what we had," "cut our losses?" you scoffed, watching him pace your room, wringing his hands, "that's great, conrad, really. you make it sound so noble,"
"stop it," he pleaded, closing his eyes like it would slow it all down, "please, i'm trying to do the right thing here. you'll have a good life in new york, and i don't want to hold you back from that," "you're the only thing i want," you said surely, "i know i'll have a good life there, but i want you in it," "we'll only end up hurting each other worse if we let this drag out," he said quietly, " don't you get it? i'm trying to protect you," "so you've made up your mind?" you asked, afraid of the answer, "is that why you came here? to say goodbye?" "it's not goodbye," his eyes met yours, desperate and wide, "just- maybe we shouldn't pursue this," "oh my god," you exhaled, hands shaky, "you're serious," he was quiet for a moment, then, "yeah. yeah, i guess i am,"
that night, for the first time in your life, you watched conrad leave when you needed him to stay. you sobbed, chest aching, the smell of his cologne still dusting your sheets. you cried for your loss, for the life you'd have to build without him, for the exhaustion in his eyes as he walked out of your front door, out of your life. you cried for the idea that he was okay with this, with leaving you behind. miles away, he gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles were white, driving in silence all through the night. he didn't let himself cry, didn't let himself mourn what he'd ruined. he tried his hardest not to picture the expression on your face as you'd shut the door behind him, not to imagine the way you'd cried after he left.
the next morning, you did the only thing you could do. you got on the plane at your scheduled time, said goodbye to your parents, put on a brave face like you weren't breaking by the second. new york would be different, you told yourself as you watched the only real home you'd ever known disappear behind low hanging clouds. a fresh start, a new life, a reset from everything you were leaving, from the sudden, unprecedented pain conrad had caused. you would be happy, even if you missed him.
manhattan was everything you dreamed of. the nyu campus was vast and sprawling, full of open minded people, full of promise and possibility. months passed, and you were almost good at pretending you didn't think of him. you made new friends, threw yourself into your classes, joined clubs and spent every free moment keeping yourself occupied. your life was good, your friends loved you, you were really, truly, happy. you were walking home one night, slightly tipsy, very exhausted, when your phone rang. you fished it from your bag, brows furrowing when jeremiah fisher's name flashed across the screen. "jere?" you answered, pressing it to your ear, stopped in your tracks, "what's going on? are you okay? is conrad okay?" "it's my mom," it came out in a choked sob, "i- she's gone,"
your heart stopped for a moment, your breath catching, the phone nearly slipping from your hands. "what?" "she was sick, they- i thought we'd have more time," you could hardly even make out his words, "please come home. conrad needs you. we both need you," "it's gonna be okay, jere," you lied with a surprising ease, too close to coming apart, teetering on the edge, "i have to call my mom, okay? you and con take care of each other," you hung up, chest burning as you dialed your mother's number with shaking hands. "mommy?" it was something you hadn't called her in years, but it slipped out anyway, "is it true?" "yeah, baby," her voice was shaking, raw, "you need to come home, okay? i'll schedule your flight,"
the day you landed in cousin's, it was storming. it felt fitting, oddly poetic, in the painful wake of susannah's death. you hadn't even known she'd been sick, and the thought pressed at the forefront of your mind without relent, urgent and searing. if you'd known, maybe you could've seen her, could've been with her. you knew, distantly, that she wanted it this way. she was so selfless, never wanting to upset or inconvenience anyone, even in death. your parents hadn't arrived at the beach house yet, the result of a delayed flight, so you were left to face it alone, the key heavy in your hand as you twisted the lock, your carry on dragging behind you.
inside, it was hollow, quiet, dreary in her absence. "jere?" you called through the rooms, stepping almost cautiously, like you might disturb her memory, "are you here?" you were only met with silence as you continued to your bedroom, setting your suitcase across the bed, eyes falling on the framed photo of you, susannah, and conrad that stayed on the bedside table. you picked it up, hands shaking, tracing the line of her smile, of the boy right next to her with the same expression. the door creaked downstairs, but you allowed yourself one last moment, one more glimpse at the woman that had helped raise you, hot tears threatening to spill over. the hardwood groaned under the weight of steps, and then he was there, standing in your doorway like a ghost. "conrad?" you took in a breath, nearly dropping the photo, your eyes raking over him.
he'd lost weight, eyes hollow, cheeks sunken in from exhaustion, "hey," he finally said, voice cracking, "i didn't know you'd made it in," "i got on the first flight out," you took a tentative step closer, "conrad, i'm-" "don't," he said quickly, almost panicked, "don't say anything," "okay," you swallowed, eyes burning, "are you okay?" he nodded, squeezing his eyes closed before forcing them open, like it would change reality, "i'm fine," he lied too easily, "how was your school year?" 'really?' you thought to yourself, 'that's what he asks about?' "it was fine," you said softly, watching as he ran a hand through his hair, "yours?" "i took a year off," he said, looking down at the floor. it hit you, he'd only been one short flight away. cousin's was only a 9 hour drive from new york. he'd broken up with you because of distance, only to come home? you shoved the thoughts down, not that it mattered anymore, and cleared your throat.
"i know you said not to say anything," you started, "but i just- i'm so sorry, conrad. i had no idea she was sick," "i know you didn't," he murmured, "i made sure no one knew. she asked me to," "what?" you blinked, shocked, "you knew?" "of course i knew," he said it like it was the most natural thing in the world, "i took off to take care of her. she begged me not to tell anyone, not to tell you or your mom. jere only found out because he opened mail from the doctor's office about treatment," "oh my god," you exhaled shakily, "con, i had no idea. you shouldn't have had to do that all alone," he met your eyes, and your heart stuttered, "it was what she wanted," he said after a beat, "it was the least i could do,"
you took a step forward, reaching for him like he might dart away, but instead, he leaned into you, practically collapsing into your arms. he didn't cry, didn't allow himself, but you knew him enough to know how badly he was hurting. he sagged against you, breathing heavy, hands grasping at your shirt like he needed to anchor himself. "i'm so sorry," you whispered, rubbing his back, coaxing him to relax. the rest of your apology was unspoken; i'm sorry i wasn't there, i'm sorry i didn't fight for you, i'm sorry you had to do this alone. the most important one, though, left your lips quietly, "i'm so sorry she's gone, conrad," he pulled away after a moment, avoiding your gaze, "i have to go," he sounded like he regretted it, "i have to meet my dad and jere to go over her will. i'll see you tonight, probably," "yeah, of course," you nodded, watching him turn to leave, "see you,"
the next few days were a blur. your family flew in, the boys stayed busy with funeral preparations. you felt like you were just watching it go by, a bystander to your own grief, unable to do or say anything to make it better for anyone. the day of the funeral came too quickly, catching you off guard though you'd had days to prepare, a stark reminder of the reason you were all together again. you went through the motions, zipped up your black dress, slipped into flats, brushed your hair, like any of this meant anything. there were coordinators downstairs, putting out vases of hydrangeas, handing out memorial pamphlets. her entire life, reduced to a sheet of paper.
you sat beside your parents in the foyer, dazed as you watched it all play out. "susannah wanted a celebration of life," the preacher said, solemn and gentle, "please stay after service and enjoy visitation here in her treasured home. we'll be adjourning after some words from her eldest son, conrad," you blinked back into focus, lips parted as you watched him move to the front of the room, the preacher stepping aside. you thought, as he stood there, that conrad had never looked older than he did in that moment. but then, a blink later, he'd never looked so young, so afraid.
"loving my mom was a pleasure to everyone that knew her," he started, voice shaky, "she was, and forever will be, my guiding light. not only did she love me and jeremiah, but she loved everyone she came in contact with. she loved my dad, she loved her best friend," his eyes met yours for just a moment, "and her best friend's family was raised as our own. every good thing about me comes from her, and i can only hope to be half as good as she was. i know her love and guidance will continue to follow me throughout my life, as it will for all of you. thank you for coming," he stepped aside, immediately going to comfort jeremiah, and your heart broke impossibly more.
after the service, conrad disappeared upstairs, leaving adam and jeremiah to handle the sympathetic looks and apologetic frowns. you'd expected him to return, brave mask back in place, but thirty minutes passed, and he was nowhere to be found. you tentatively padded up the staircase, the aged wood creaking beneath your feet, your body gravitating towards his closed bedroom door like a magnetic pull. you knocked lightly, pressing your ear to the door, "conrad? are you alright?" your brows furrowed when he didn't reply, and you considered that maybe he wasn't in there after all, but you twisted the doorknob anyway, just to make sure. your eyes fell on him immediately. he was on the edge of his bed, arms around himself, rocking back and forth like it was involuntary.
"con," you exhaled, closing the door behind you, stepping towards him, "hey, are you okay?" he looked up at you, face wet with tears, cheeks splotchy, and you acted from pure instinct and memory, sitting beside him and putting your arm around him, nearly crying yourself. "you're okay," you whispered, rubbing his back like you had the day you arrived, "it's okay, connie. i'm right here," he fell into you, his head on your lap, sobs racking his body. "who am i supposed to talk to?" he choked out, fingers grasping the skirt of your dress, "what am i supposed to do?" "i know," you said weakly, combing your fingers through his hair, "i know you're scared. you don't have to be strong,"
"she told me to watch out for jere," his voice cracked, high for a moment, "to take care of him. how am i supposed to do that? i can't even- fuck, i don't even know how to take care of myself," "you've always been the tough one. she was just saying what she thought was best," you had a momentary, rare, flash of anger towards susannah. how could she put this on conrad? first her sickness, now the pressure of caring for his brother? it was clearly crushing him. "this won't go back to normal. it hasn't been normal in years, i don't even know what i'm supposed to do now," "i know," you murmured, "she loved you so much, conrad. i'm so sorry,"
"i can't believe she's gone," he'd stopped crying, but sounded so tired, so hollow, "there's so many things i should've told her," "she knows," you hoped it sounded as soothing as it felt to you, "she knew everything about all of us, even if we didn't know. she paid attention," "she left letters," he sat up, rubbing his face, clearing his throat, "i should've given it to you as soon as you got here, i'm sorry," "she left one for me?" you blinked, surprised, terrified of the contents, of the way they would make you feel, "can i read it?" "of course, yeah," he took a breath, smoothing out his suit and moving to his desk, pulling a blue envelope from the drawer, your name scrawled across it. "you should be alone when you read it," he said softly, "or i can get your mom," "i'll be okay," you traced the loops of her handwriting, chest aching, "i'm gonna take it to my room, okay? i'll be down soon," "okay," he nodded, eyes lingering on yours, but forced himself to let you go.
you wept openly as you read it, hands shaking, trying your hardest not to let your tears stain the delicate paper. you thought of all the memories you'd made with her, how close you'd been. you wondered if conrad had ever even told her about the break up, or if he'd spared her the news, or if her infectious optimism had convinced her you'd work everything out. it took you 20 minutes to force it down and collect yourself, taking deep breaths, correcting your makeup in the vanity mirror susannah had picked out for you. "you okay, sweetie?" your mom asked when you finally returned to the crowd, her eyes searching yours. "of course," you lied, forcing a weak smile, "just needed some air,"
by nightfall, all the guests had gone, and your parents were packing the car to fly home. "i'm sorry, honey," your dad sighed, your head against his chest as he told you goodbye, "i've gotta be back for work. you call me if you need anything at all, okay? and let me and your mom know as soon as you land back in new york," "it's okay," you murmured, pulling away from the hug, forcing on a brave face, "i'll call when i get home, i promise. i love you," "i love you too, sweetie," he ruffled your hair lightly, smiling, "see you for christmas," "can't wait," you hummed, watching him carry the last suitcase out.
it was back to you, conrad, and jeremiah. the house felt empty once again, eerily quiet, devoid of the life and whimsy susannah had always provided. your flight left at 7am, but a part of you yearned to stay, like maybe if you didn't leave, it wouldn't be real. you showered, pulling on a cousin's rowing sweatshirt that you were fairly certain used to belong to conrad, stepping into a pair of shorts and wandering the house, aimless and tired. you wound up by the pool, kicking your feet through the water, memories playing like a reel in your mind. "this seat taken?" you looked up, and there was conrad, his dress shirt sleeves pushed up to his elbows and his hair tousled. "help yourself," you attempted a casual smile, gesturing to the spot beside you. he sat, not quite close enough to let his legs dangle like yours, "so you fly out in the morning?" "yeah," you nodded, glancing at the rippling water, "i don't think i'll be back for a while,"
"i'm gonna go back to school," he said after a moment, "i think jere's staying at finch, so there won't be anyone here. my dad said he'd pay people to keep up with the house, though," "good," you hummed, "i might transfer after this year. we'll see how it goes," "i thought you loved new york," he looked at you, brows knit, "your brother said you were happy there," "i am," you said quickly, "i just miss home, i guess. this whole thing has just made me think," "i understand," he hesitated, "did my mom say anything in the letter? about being here?" you yearned to tell him, to show him, but it felt too heavy, too much, "no, nothing like that. it's just been playing on my mind," "i'm sure you'll make the right decision. you always were the smartest out of us," you paused, mind racing, "hey, conrad, did you tell susannah about us? about the break up?"
his face shifted, like he was nervous or uncomfortable, "i tried to, but- i don't know. it was hard, she wasn't doing very well and i didn't want to upset her," "it's okay," you felt an odd sense of relief, "i understand. i just wanted to know," a soothing, thick sort of silence settled over you, quiet except for the waves and the pool water rippling around your ankles. finally, he broke the silence, "it's late. you should get some rest before your flight," "yeah, you're probably right," you stood, taking one last look at the beach, how peaceful it looked in the darkness, before following him inside. the sound of two sets of steps on the stairs reminded you of all the years passed, of four sets as the boys chased you around, or two when you and conrad snuck up together.
he paused by your bedroom door, lingering, his eyes meeting yours, "thank you for coming," he said, voice raspy, "it meant a lot to everyone. to me," "i wouldn't have missed it for anything," you said earnestly, "you're my family, connie. always, no matter what's happened between us," he took a step closer, face conflicted like he was fighting himself, "i'm sorry," it came out thick, almost strangled, "i wish i could've told you," "you did what you had to do," you shook your head, "i don't blame you. you have to stop blaming yourself," another step, another uptick in your heartbeat. "i wish things had been different," he exhaled it like it was a weight off of his shoulders, and you pulled your lip between your teeth, anxious and anticipating, though you weren't sure what.
his eyes flicked to your mouth at the movement, and before you could process it, he was kissing you, tender but deep, hurried like he needed it. you kissed him back, humming against his lips, one hand coming to hold his arm. he leaned you back against the doorframe, your head craning to keep up with him, the kiss deepening, his hand grabbing for your waist. "conrad," you murmured into the kiss, catching your breath. it seemed to snap him back into reality, and he jerked away, chest heaving. "i shouldn't have done that," he said quickly, "i'm so- i'm so sorry," he turned, before you could stop him, slamming his bedroom door. you traced your lips, still burning for him, pausing before closing your own door, closing it on him, on the possibility.
you returned to the city the following day, feeling terribly similar to the first time you'd left. on top of mourning susannah, you had to mourn conrad, something that could've been. you tried your hardest not to think of it for too long the following months, but late at night, when you were alone, you found yourself scrolling through the locked album on your phone, or hesitantly typing his username into the instagram search bar, forced to watch his life in pictures. "are you coming home for the summer?" your mom asked over the phone, a week before the end of the year. "i'm actually thinking about going to the beach house, just for a couple days," you told her, "i'll come home after though, okay?" "that sounds good, sweetie. call me if you need me,"
your flight landed at 8am, the dew still clinging to the grass of the beach house, the tide rolling slowly in and out. you twisted the key in the lock, gently pushing the door open, breathing in the familiar scent, the wheels of your suitcase sliding against the wood floors. you carried your things upstairs, haphazardly unpacking before going to the kitchen, switching on the kettle and leaning against the counter. you were halfway zoned out when the back door opened, and when your eyes snapped up towards the sound, there he was. conrad stood, the top half of his wet suit unzipped, hanging loose around his waist. "oh," he stood, blinking, brows furrowed like he was confused, "i didn't know you were here," "i didn't know you were here," you said, switching off the kettle as it whistled, "sorry- i can go back home. i didn't know anyone was staying here," "no," he shook his head, water droplets dripping off the ends of his hair as he did, "stay. please,"
the two of you fell into step again with a sort of familiar ease. it wasn't dramatic, wasn't all at once, but somehow, you found yourself living alongside him like no time had passed. he studied and surfed during the day, while you laid out at the beach or tidied the house. he tried to stay out of your way, you could tell. part of you ached to tell him he didn't have to avoid you, the other longed to run far away, to go home and pretend it never happened. the sixth night, he knocked on your bedroom door, quiet and hesitant. "yeah?" you called, perched at your vanity, finishing your skincare. "hey, uh, i was gonna make some dinner. do you want something?" "yeah, sure," you smiled faintly at him in the reflection, "i can come help, just give me a second,"
he was standing at the counter when you came downstairs, prepping chicken, humming under his breath. you lingered in the doorway for a moment, just watching him, stricken by the slow, tender familiarity of it all. "want me to make a salad?" you finally asked, clearing your throat, "i picked up some produce last time i went into town," "yeah, that'd be great," he nodded, giving you a sidelong smile, "i'm just gonna grill this up," you nodded, busying yourself with prepping ingredients, trying to avoid watching him as he cooked. even as you settled across from him at the table after everything was done, you had to make a conscious effort not to let your gaze linger. "this is really good," he said, wiping his mouth after a bite, "thank you for helping," "course," you murmured, taking a sip of your tea, "since when do you know how to cook, anyway?"
he cracked a smile, and your chest warmed, "had to learn how to do the basics when mom was sick. i really can only make chicken and some sides," "well it's great, conrad," you smiled in return, "i'm glad we can do this," "this?" you nodded, gesturing between the two of you, "yeah, this. i'm glad we can get along without any drama," it wasn't the whole truth, really, but then again, you hadn't told him the whole truth since the day he walked out your door. "yeah. me too," he nodded, but his smile slipped, "i'm probably going for a swim after this, if you wanted to join me. it's a really nice night out," "yeah, okay," you nodded, "i'll meet you out there in a little bit. i just need to change," you stood to clear your dishes, but he stopped you, his hand on the edge of your plate, "let me take care of this," you hummed a half reply, excusing yourself upstairs, trying to ignore the look in his eyes.
you walked down to the pool half an hour later, a zip up hoodie hanging over your bikini, a seltzer in your hand. conrad was already in the water, the lights hitting him as he moved through it, taking your breath away for a moment. he broke the surface, hair stuck to his forehead, lips parted, "hey," he grinned, waving you over. "you beat me to it," you joked, shrugging off your hoodie, the air chilly on your bare skin. you could feel his eyes on you as you sat on the edge of the pool, bracing yourself before sliding into the water, the cold biting at you. "jesus, it's freezing," you squealed, scrunching your nose, "you said it was nice out, you liar," "don't be such a baby," he teased, wading through the water so he was closer to you, "it's not too cold, though, is it? you're okay?" "i'm fine, just gotta adjust," you shrugged, dipping your head under for a moment. he was staring at you as you came up, eyes dark but sparkling.
"hi," he exhaled, so close that you could reach out and touch him. "hi," you murmured, drinking him in, "feels better now," "yeah?" his voice cracked slightly, "good. that's good," "very," you whispered, eyes flickering to his lips, "and you? you feel good?" "i feel great," he swallowed, tongue darting out to wet his lips, "just perfect," you leaned against the pool wall, water lapping at the surface, "perfect," you repeated, eyes still on his. "you're perfect," he took in a breath, sharp and hoarse. "con-" he didn't give you a chance to finish, leaning forward and kissing you desperately, hands finding your waist beneath the water. you kissed him back, hungry and quick, before your mind could catch up with your body. after a moment, you pushed him away, chest heaving, mind reeling, "no," you said quickly, "no. no, we're not doing this again,"
he looked wounded, for just a beat, "i'm sorry, i shouldn't have done it without asking you," he said quietly, running a hand over his face, "i'm sorry," "you shouldn't have done it at all, conrad. you can't keep doing this to me," your voice was rising, face hot, "i forgave you for leaving, i really did. and i forgave you for kissing me after the funeral, but this- this isn't fair, and you know that. i can't keep letting you take advantage of me, because you know i'll do anything for you. and i can't believe after everything, after the time we spent together, that you'd do this," "i'm so sorry," his voice croaked, "you have to know, i thought you knew," "knew what?" you felt your eyes sting, "how could i know anything? i used to- god, conrad, i used to know everything when it came to you. what happened?"
"i thought you knew that i still loved you!" his voice shook, "i never stopped, i- god, i didn't know what to do, okay? my mom was dying and i couldn't tell you and i was so fucking scared. you have to know i never wanted to hurt you, honey. you have to understand that i love you, that i never stopped, not for a second. i just couldn't stand to drag you down with me," you pushed yourself up out of the pool, shaking as you yanked your hoodie back on over your soaked swimsuit, the nickname that had slipped from his lips replaying in your mind. "no, no, hey, just wait-" he pushed himself out after you, dripping onto the concrete as he followed you, reaching for your wrist, "don't do this, don't walk away from me. not now,"
"what am i supposed to say to that?" you whirled to face him, "i hurt for you, conrad. i spent months crying over you, crying for you, and i would've done anything to hear you saying this. i just can't let you break my heart again," "i know i hurt you, and i know i can't just fix it, but god, if we loved again, i swear i'd love you right," he took a step closer, tentative and slow, "there will never be anyone else for me. i know that now just as clearly as i knew it when we were teenagers. i don't care if it's reckless or dramatic or stupid, i love you, and i'll love you for the rest of my life," "conrad-" he kept talking, as if you'd never interrupted, "and i just need you to understand, i need you to see that i mean it," "conrad," "and if i have to spend every day reminding you-" "conrad!" "what?" he blinked, as if he had never heard you, brows knit.
"i believe you," you murmured, "i love you, i trust you. you're okay," "what?" he let out a breath, "you love me?" "of course i love you," you reached for him this time, pulling him closer by his wrist, "i've loved you as long as i can remember, connie. i know we have a lot to figure out, but i'm here, i'm forgiving you. i miss you. i miss us," "oh, thank god," he laughed breathlessly, stepping into your orbit, nose brushing yours as he leaned in, "say it again," "i love you, conrad beck fisher," you whispered, and you could hear the sharpness of his breath, the racing of his heart, "i'll always love you," he made a low, desperate, raw sort of sound before crashing his lips to yours, intense but soft, grabbing for you anywhere he could reach.
he walked you back into the living room, hand resting on your low back, keeping you pressed against him. his tongue slipped against yours, his hands fumbling, squeezing your hips as he pressed you against a wall, knee slotted between your thighs. he groaned, low in his throat, as you ground against him, bikini bottoms still freezing. "bedroom," he muttered between messy kisses. "yours?" you pulled away, pressing sloppy kisses to his jaw, "or mine?" he didn't reply, just leaned down to grab your thighs, pulling your legs around his waist, picking you up with a huff. he carried you up the stairs, not even breaking a sweat, cheeks only reddened from your lips on his neck. you reached down as he rounded the landing, sliding your hand over the bulge in his swim trunks. "fuck," he groaned, not even bothering to pick a room, just settling you onto the bathroom counter as he stumbled into the room, "need you, honey,"
he slipped the zip up from your shoulders, hands fumbling with the string of your bikini, kissing you languidly as he pulled it, your top falling. he trailed kisses down your jaw and the column of your throat, sucking lightly at the sensitive skin of your neck. "you're so beautiful," he murmured, eyes raking over your heaving bare chest, "missed you so much," he leaned down, palming your chest, slowly sucking your nipple between his lips, laving his tongue against the bud. "oh," you sucked in a surprised breath, back immediately arching into him, hands gripping the edge of the vanity. his fingers looped through your bottoms, pulling them down in one fluid motion, letting them fall to the floor, the air cool against your core. "can i taste you, baby? wanna make you feel good," he slid a hand between your thighs, thumb brushing your clit lightly. "yes, please," you nodded quickly, dazed as he dropped to his knees in front of the sink, spreading your legs further.
he buried his head between your thighs, not wasting any time with teasing touches before lapping at your core, tongue tracing your clit, eliciting a sharp gasp from your swollen lips. he hummed against you, the sound vibrating, setting your nerve endings on edge. you threaded your hand in his hair as he darted his tongue inside of you, nose nudging your clit lightly. "oh, conrad," you mewled, tugging at the strands of hair gently, back arched, "so good," he sucked your clit just hard enough to have you gasping and writhing on the counters edge, your thighs clenching, "close," you managed, pulling tighter on his hair, "jesus. that's so good," he was only encouraged by your praise, the hand resting on your thigh squeezing slightly, anchoring you. you gasped his name as you came, legs trembling, dizzy with pleasure.
he swiped his thumb along his lip as he stood, grinning down at you, "come shower with me, honey," you nodded, still hazy, following him as he turned on the water, stepping out of his trunks. he stepped under the shower stream, taking your hand, helping you over the ledge. "you're so pretty," he murmured, the water misting around you, his thumb tracing your jawline. you fawned under his gaze, leaning into his touch, humming contently. he kissed you, slow and gentle, tediously teasing, pressing you against the cool shower wall. he stepped between your legs, humming as you opened up for him, the kiss deepening.
you reached between the two of you, taking him in your palm, running your thumb along the tip. βfuck,β he hissed, hips already jerking, βyou donβt have to do that-β βhush,β you teased, ghosting your lips over his pulse point, βwant you to fuck me, con. missed you so much,β βyeah?β he rasped, βwant you so bad, honey, you have no idea,β βhave me, then,β you whispered, stroking him slowly. he shuddered, gently pulling one of your legs up, fingers running along your calf as he did. you guided him to your core, taking a shaky breath as you slid him against you, soaked and hot. βoh, baby,β he exhaled, bucking into your hand before gently guiding it away, βlemme take care of you, donβt worry,β he tapped his tip against your clit, watching as you clenched up, lips parted. βi love you,β he murmured, one hand still holding your leg as he pushed inside of you slowly, groaning as you stretched around him. βoh,β your eyes fell closed, your head resting on the wall behind you, βi love you,β you relished in the familiar but missed stretch, drinking him in, your hands on his shoulders.
βoh, fuck,β he leaned forward, his forehead on your shoulder, bottoming out inside you, βthatβs- god, youβre perfect,β he stilled for a moment, letting you adjust, letting himself just feel you, before thrusting back in and out, deep and slow. you pulled at his wet hair, scrambling to kiss him, swallowing each others moans as his mouth met yours messily. it was all tongue and teeth, passionate but urgent, his thrusts quickening. he snaked his hand around to find your clit, thumb circling it as he fucked into you, eliciting more muffled moans. βconrad,β you gasped, pulling away to catch your breath, voice hoarse. βi got you, honey,β he panted, βnot gonna last, missed you too much,β βs okay,β you dug your nails into his shoulder slightly as he repositioned you, hitting even deeper, βoh, god. right there, conrad, oh-β you babbled, eyes rolled back, back arched. βyeah, come on sweetheart,β he let out a choked groan, βlet me feel you,β his thumb swiped over your clit again, and you came with a gasp, his name falling from your lips. βgood girl,β he buried his face in your neck as he came, hips stuttering, βoh, god, i love you,β βmm, love you,β you hummed, running your fingers through his hair as he caught his breath, chest heaving.
he helped you stand properly again, gently rubbing your thigh, βdidnβt hurt you, did i?β βcourse not,β you shook your head, pressing a kiss to his shoulder, βthat was perfect,β he smiled, hazy and content, βhere, iβll wash your hair like old times,β you remembered the way he used to scrub at your scalp, tenderly and caring, when youβd sneak showers together at the summer house. he kept his promise, washing it carefully and tediously, conditioning the ends like heβd done it a million times. after, he laughed as you stood on your tiptoes, attempting to wash his in return. he squatted down slightly, letting you reach, laughing under his breath. when you got out, he wrapped you in a towel, kissing you quickly as he dried himself off.
βi wish we could stay in the beach house forever,β you said as the two of you laid in his bed, your head on his chest. βme too,β he murmured, running his fingers along your spine. βiβm coming back here after i graduate, i think. i wanna stay in moms house, keep up with it. iβm gonna practice at the clinic in town,β you sat up, brows knit, looking down at him, βyouβve already planned it all out?β βitβs a loose plan,β he said, shrugging, βitβs the goal, though. why?β βjust surprised,β you leaned back into him, relaxing, picturing your future, βi have 2 years left. iβve been thinking about transferring, but i donβt know,β βi have one semester left, then iβll be done,β youβd forgotten how much time had passed since he left, and the reminder startled you, βiβve heard new york is nice in the fall,β βoh, itβs beautiful,β you nodded. βmaybe iβll come visit my girl after i graduate? we can fly back together?β
you stilled, smiling, βreally? youβd come to the city?β βof course i would,β he laughed softly, βmaybe i could stay there, get a little experience under my belt before i come back here, hm? we can get an apartment for the school year?β βare you serious?β you tilted your head up to meet his eyes, βweβre really doing this?β βi wasted too much time away from you, honey. i wanna make up for it,β he said softly, βif itβs too much too fast, thatβs fine, i can come here after graduation-β βno,β you cut him off, nearly laughing from happiness, βno, not at all. new york with you sounds perfect, con,β βgood,β he grinned, kissing your forehead, βi love you,β βand i love you,β you hummed, nestling into his arm, βi canβt wait for forever,β
