the last shebang before Another Overhaul
I’ve wanted to do something like this for a minute just for the sillies. so here we go. this was meant to be shorter but I really enjoy writing casual Trader Joe’s I think they bounce off of each other really well despite being so different @svwhssftr
“I still have a horrible feeling about this,” Strike grumbled, hesitantly knocking on the crimson door of her home for the next week.
“Trust me, you’ll get over it,” Crow said. “Being alone in the middle of the woods is calming, from my experience. I think you’ll enjoy it.”
“Yeah, because you’re that kind of person. Mako and Gale are not that kind of people.”
“They’re newly married gay men in their late 20s. The weird outdoorsy lifestyle switch was coming whether you liked it or not.”
“Still, you’d think they would take up Pilates or pickleball or something instead.”
“Or making kombucha."
“Right, some new age spirituality shit seems right up their alley. Not poison ivy and ticks.”
“You made it!” Mako exclaimed as he swung open the door, trapping Strike in an uncomfortably tight hug.
“No! Do not—no touching.” Strike firmly said, weaseling from his grasp.
“She’s been trapped in a car for the past few hours. She needs freedom,” Crow explained.
“And you look fantastic,” Mako said, shifting his awkward half-hug over to Crow. “Your voice is so much deeper than last time we saw each other. How long has it been since you started T?”
“Around a year,” Crow answered, oh-so-casually flexing the vaguely defined “muscles” on his arms uncovered by his oversized black wifebeater.
“Stop acting like you’re buff. Those are just veins and a semblance of structure,” Strike scoffed.
“It’s cool, though!”
“It’s embarrassing on my behalf.”
“Sorry that not everyone can bench… however much you can bench.”
“I’ve invited you to join me at the gym multiple times. It wouldn’t be hard for you to start.” Strike swung open the fridge and treated herself to a crisp can of Dr. Pepper, which she had specifically requested to be prepared before she arrived.
“Gym bros scare me. I’d freeze in fear.”
Strike rolled her eyes as she wiped her bottom lip. “Where’s Gale? I assume he’s not outside. I can’t see him doing that willingly.”
“Oh, he’s setting a few things up downstairs for us,” Mako casually said. “He should be upstairs soon.”
“Setting up what?” Crow asked, unaware of the Pandora’s box he had unleashed.
Mako pursed his lips and cocked his head. “Did you two happen to look into this place at all?”
“Not really. We just trusted you two were more fancy than we normally are,” Strike said.
“Oh,” Mako hummed. “I sent you a link to the listing, and you said it looked nice.”
“You did?” Crow asked.
“Yes, I vividly remember it. You can go back through our messages.”
“Crow has a history of pretending to pay attention to people,” Strike said. “Don’t get offended by it.”
“I’m not offended—it’s just important that you know what you’re getting yourselves into when you agree to something like this.”
“Please tell me this isn’t—“ Crow started, burying his head in his hands as he sat on a barstool.
“You know how I said this was a cabin made specifically for two couples?” Mako awkwardly laughed.
“It’s a weird sex thing, isn’t it?” Crow dropped his fist onto the marble countertop.
“Oh, great.” Strike blinked, her face stoic.
“I trust you’ll explore the amenities yourselves. Don’t worry, it’s all soundproofed and entirely isolated from our side.”
“You think I’m using public sex paraphernalia? Do I look like I want a yeast infection?” Crow asked.
“You don’t have to use those. Nobody is forcing you,” Mako said.
“Why did you think we were the target audience for this?” Strike asked, halfway offended.
As if on cue, Gale cheerfully emerged from the stairway. “Babe, the cage is set up!”
“The what?” Crow’s eyes widened.
“Oh, my God.” Strike nearly crushed the aluminum can in her hand.
“Yeah, there’s more than, like, sex toys and stuff, there’s plenty of BDSM gear that could easily be cleaned. We brought extra cleaning supplies,” Mako calmly said.
“Are you into this kinda shit?” Strike whispered, leaning over to Crow.
“Absolutely not,” Crow immediately responded.
“Did you happen to plan anything else for this trip?” Strike asked, the uncomfortable smile on her face straining.
“Why the hell would we?” Gale laughed. “We aren’t paying $350 a night for nothing.”
“$350 a night?” Crow repeated. “To fuck? Can’t you do that on your own time for free?”
“Just go downstairs. See it for yourself,” Mako said. “You’re self-proclaimed freaks, aren’t you?”
“We underestimated what ‘freak’ meant,” Crow admitted.
“Yeah, I fisted him once, but that’s about as far as we’re pushing it,” Strike said.
“You didn’t have to share that,” Crow murmured.
“It felt relevant.”
“Well, now’s your time to explore further,” Gale said. “You won’t have to worry about anyone barging in on you or judging you. You’re safe here.”
“I’m in a BDSM cabin in the middle of the woods with my brother. This is the least safe I have ever felt,” Strike said.
“Just go look,” Mako sighed. “You’ll find something to keep yourselves entertained, even if it is laughing at it. Neither of you can indulge in anything without it being ironic.”
“I love making fun of shit,” Crow said, dull eyes partially glinting.
“Me too, bitch, let’s go.” Strike quickly rounded the corner to a comically long stairway lit by flameless candles, and Crow eagerly followed.
“They’re committed to the ambience,” Crow noted.
“But couldn’t even buy real candles?”
“Are you itching for a house fire while you’re getting your freak on?”
“Good point.” Strike slowly slid the door behind them shut.
“Can they hear us now?” Crow asked.
“No, probably not.”
“What the fuck?”
“Yeah, what the hell is this about?”
“You were right about them not being the outdoorsy type of late-20s gay.”
“But the BDSM culture type is so much worse.”
“Why are they so casual about it, dude?”
“I don’t know! I don’t want to know!”
“A fuckin’ cage?”
“How is that even enjoyable? What positions can you even do in there?”
“See, this is why we’re compatible. We’re both claustrophobic.”
“Yeah, enclosed sex sounds fuckin’ horrid.”
“Exactly.”
“Oh, and why the hell didn’t you look at the listing he sent you?”
“I got busy!”
“Whatever. We’re here now. Nothing we can do to change it.” Strike’s Docs hit polished hardwood as they entered their bedroom—a lavish, spacious room with a comically large television, a California King on a rotating platform, and a mirror above the bed. Various harnesses, ropes, chains, and whips were displayed on the walls above a rather spacious cuck chair and the infamous cage.
“That’s a really small sex cage,” Crow observed.
“That bed looks so fuckin’ comfortable, though. Sleep tonight might be better than sex.”
“Mhm. Holy shit, is that a VHS player?” Crow’s exhausted eyes sparked awake as he crouched by the dust-covered machine.
“Of course there’s something old for him to geek out about in the sex dungeon,” Strike flatly said.
“I can’t believe they keep this in here,” Crow gasped, thumbing through a box of explicit VHS tapes. “This is a corny 80s goldmine—a time capsule from the era.”
“Do you want to watch bad heterosexual 80s porn?”
“Have you met me?” Crow was already in the progress of rewinding a tape. “This one’s called ‘Dirty Blondie’s First Orgy.’ Looks intriguing.”
“Sounds invigorating.” Strike unbuttoned her pants as she stretched her shoulders. “You seen the showers yet? I need one.”
“Should be through the beaded curtain. I hope.”
“That doesn’t seem like it conserves much heat.” Strike pried back the iridescent beads to reveal a wide-open space with an indented tile floor, the shower head and knob just within her reach.
“Yeah, that doesn’t seem economical.”
“The bills for this place have to be insane.”
“Oh, for sure.”
Strike narrowed her eyes as she turned to Crow. “I mean, it’s made for two if you want to shower together. Conserve the heat.”
“Hold on, I’m looking through these tapes.”
“I’m asking you if you want to fuck, Crow.”
“But the tapes.”
“A very attractive woman is offering her body to you.”
“I can fuck you whenever I want. These are exclusive to here.”
“‘Date the autistic guy,’ they said,” Strike muttered. “‘He’ll understand you,’ they said.”
“We can fuck afterwards! We have plenty of time to do so.”
“I’ll hold you to that promise.”
“I sure hope so.”
Strike closed the curtain and kicked her clothes out to the main floor. “Shit, they have nice body wash here.”
“They better for $350 a night.” Crow booted up the VHS player and the red power light timidly flickered to life.
The subtle patter of water seeped from the curtain. “But the water pressure is shit. Hold on, let me try to fix it—fuck!”
Metal clamored across the tile as water pooled from beneath the beads, inching toward her pile of clothes.
“What did you do?” Crow laughed.
“The head unhinged ridiculously easily. I got it back up, though.”
“I’ll find a towel,” Crow said, scanning the room for any sign of an actual bathroom.
“This place is horribly designed.”
“You can say that again.” Crow wandered deeper into the lair, an uneasy feeling settling into his stomach as he passed suspiciously realistic mounted dildos larger than his forearm. “Eugh, nasty.”
“This actually isn’t too bad. The open shower plan is starting to grow on me.”
“Oh, they have strap harnesses. They look cheap, though, yours is a lot nicer,” Crow pointed out.
“I didn’t bring it under the assumption this wasn’t a sex-related venture.”
“Can I be honest?”
“Of course.”
“I’m not a big fan of the strap.”
“Seriously? I thought you loved it.”
“Sometimes it’s fun, but I really need to be in the mood for it, y’know?”
“Yeah, that makes sense.”
“I don’t understand how you like dicks. They’re so unappealing.”
“You’re the one growing one!”
“Yeah, a tiny fake one. It’s not gross and massive and veiny. It’s just my clit.”
“I should let you strap me sometime.”
“Girl, I do not have the stamina for that.”
“I could ride it for you,” Strike hummed, her attempts at seduction falling flat.
“You’d crush me.”
“Why are you so anti-penetration? It feels good.”
“It hurts!” Crow winced as he fumbled with a golden knob leading to an admittedly bland bathroom.
“Not if you do it right.”
“You can penetrate yourself all day, for all I care,” Crow sighed, yanking a towel from the counter. “It’s not my gig.”
“But it’s so cool. You’re so tiny I can see it inside you, it’s fuckin’ sick.”
“You can understand why that would be painful, then.”
“I guess,” Strike huffed. Crow kicked the towel beneath his feet and scrubbed the excess water from the floor.
“Water is up.” Crow wadded the towel into a ball and inched it beside the bed as Strike turned off the shower.
“Oh no!” Strike dramatically gasped, feigning a transatlantic accent. “I forgot to bring a change of clothes with me. However will my darling boyfriend resist me as I waltz out of the shower unclothed?”
“Don’t go into acting.”
“Not even porn?”
“Especially not porn.”
“Boo.” Strike slung the curtains back to glare at Crow, his body comedically small on the California King sized bed. He held the VHS remote in hand, his smug expression a little too eager.
“I have it rewound and ready.”
“It better be horrible.” Strike climbed next to him and pulled the sheets over her damp skin.
“Oh, best believe it will be,” Crow said, crossing his legs as he rested his head on her warm shoulder. “The actress on the cover had makeup that washed her out entirely, which would have been accurate for the time period if she was like, goth or something, but from the looks of it—“
“Oh, fuck!”
“Did the tape already start?” Strike asked.
“No, I don’t know what that was,” Crow responded. “The walls should be—“
“Fuck, Mako!”
Strike’s face dropped. “They’re not.”
“Starting the tape.” Crow rapidly pressed play.
“Full volume?”
“Full volume.”