It just goes on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on ₐⁿᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵒⁿ
summary: while high, you and your two best friends get into the usual trouble, this time with something more..
pairing: kat taylor x fem!reader x bobby franklin
warning (s): porn with little plot, mention of drug use (weed), threesome, f/f/m sex, high sex, fingering, tit sucking, male masturbation, face riding, oral (fem!receiving)
word count: 3.1k
a/n: i love them and i’m already thinking of carrying this on when they go into the backrooms, and bring reader with them. based on this ask, by this lovely @thefaetellsnotales .beware this isn’t exactly proofread and iam sick, but i hope you sexies enjoy 💗
“Are we even meant to be here?”
“Come on, it’s closed.. no one’s here I promise.”
The shutter retracted up with a clatter, the three of you ducking in one by one before Kat dragged it back down to the floor, twisting the key at the bottom to lock it.
You coughed as you stood, the air thick with the faint smell of bleach and old lint. It was to be expected from a furniture store you supposed, especially one that didn’t get much movement from well.. anyone.
“Hey is there a light in here?” You spoke through the darkness, turning to catch the silhouettes standing behind you.
“This way.”
An arm hooked around your waist before you could answer, and through the dim light you made it out who it was. A scent of roses and cocoa butter covered the smell of pot, and the coolness of her bangles rubbed against your arm as Kat angled you both across the floor.
You made it a few paces to the back wall before a gold glow lit up from the far corner.
Bobby.
He fumbled with the string of an antique lamp, unwrapping the straps of his camera as he set it onto a nightstand, turning to face you both with a scrunch in his brow.
“Does Clark really sleep on these things? They’re fuckin’ hard.” His hand pressed into the mattress, shoving it up and down before it bounced back into his hand.
“Don’t complain about it now, it was your idea. And yeah.. he does..” Kat looked up at him with that familiar look of sarcasm, shrugging beside you as she swung the backpack from her arm and onto a dresser. Her arm reached into it, rummaging as you leant against the wood.
“Your manager sleeps in his own store?” She huffed a laugh at your quirked brow.
“He’s kind of.. down and out, it’s the only place he has right now.”
“Then where is he?”
“I’m not sure, out of town for something he’s gone crazy about, something he’s found apparently.”
She eventually pulled out a packet of ‘jiffy pop’ from the bag with a proud smile, “Right Im gonna get us actual food.”
Kat turned on her heel, placing a hand on your shoulder before giving it a squeeze.
“Don’t get into too much trouble.. and.. don’t let Bobby touch anything.”
Kat disappeared down the hall in search of the break room, leaving you standing in the middle of Clark's furniture store trying not to laugh at how ridiculous this was.
You had been lying in their apartment for hours before one of you, not that you could hardly remember, mentioned heading out. And after however long of wandering through town, the last glimpses of the sunset burning into the dark, you’d made it to Clark’s.
"Yeah if we don’t get arrested for a break in."
Bobby had already claimed an entire display bedroom for himself, setting it up for you all. The bed was wide, king sized it read from the poster, with deep blue sheets and off white pillows, discoloured it looked from that angle.
"Nah," he said, kicking off his shoes and throwing himself backwards onto the mattress. "This is basically a hotel."
"It’s a furniture store." You crossed your arms watching him with a squint.
"Exactly, free hotel."
The mattress bounced as he spread his arms dramatically with a smirk. Half of the lights had been switched off for the night, leaving the showroom glowing in soft amber pools, and somehow it actually made it look homely. Not the empty, stale place the three of you usually made fun of.
Your eyes wandered over the space, fighting a smile. The whole place felt surreal. Couches were arranged like fake living rooms, lamps casting warm circles of light, rows of untouched beds stretching into darkness, and the staircase behind you leading to the lower level. Not creepy at all.
You found yourself drifting where Kat had disappeared to. The three of you had been inseparable all evening, and lately it had only grown, like some undergrown strange tension that crept on you all slowly. Being friends for years would do that you supposed, but it always seemed as if there was more. Like gravity pulled you together just as you all had stayed close. The lingering glances, the casual touches that lasted a little too long, and some sort of feeling nobody seemed quite ready to put into words.
They’d been dating for two years, and you’d been happy for them, even remembered the exact day they’d came come from school in the late afternoon to your house just to tell you.
“So you’re together, together?” You leaned on the doorframe, eyes wide with excitement.
“Hell yeah.” Bobby’s arm slung around Kat’s shoulders with a proud grin.
“Not that this changes anything, he’s still an idiot, and you’re still my favourite.” Kat smirked at you.
“Hey—“ Kat swatted him in the stomach before grabbing onto you and ushering you outside into whatever left of the summer sun there was.
And she was right, it didn’t change anything at all. If anything it brought you all closer. There wasn’t anything unspoken, it was all out in the open and comfortable, except for one thing. How they had felt for you.
Bobby patted the spot beside him.
"Come test the merchandise." He spoke up, gesturing his head toward his hand.
"You sound like a salesman."
"I'm the best salesman Clark's ever had."
The thought made you laugh, yeah right.
You stepped forward anyway, the bed dipping beneath your weight as you kicked off your shoes and climbed on. Neither of you said anything at first, just laying a single arm length’s away as you realised he was right.
The mattress was hard, sticking into your back through the plump covers. Though it should have been expected, it’s a display. So much for getting high beforehand, you hadn’t through that far. So you made do with what you could, snagging the fur blanket from the end of the bed and tucking it behind you both.
The flicker of the TV box he’d angled into a chest of drawers, lit up your faces through the shadowed space, returns of old tv shows muffled in the background. And both of you were engrossed, staring into the flashing colours fading in and out.
You felt eyes on you after a while, staring into you from the side. Bobby had turned his head slightly, blue eyes burning into you, and you turned yours.
His grin had disappeared somewhere along the way, leaving only the twinkle in gaze, something you’d always noticed reserved for one other person. The one they reserved for eachother.
"You're staring." Bobby whispered dropping his head between you both teasingly.
"No I'm not." You kicked his leg lightly, shaking the buzz from your head, but it didn’t seem to lift, instead it grew, a shiver wracking the back of you spine.
"You are.”
"You started it.” The wood of the headboard creaked behind you as you braced your knees up, tucking them toward your chest.
That earned a laugh, a breathy one like the air had been punched from his lungs as he sat up, and then suddenly you were both laughing. The kind of laughter that came from being slightly high, and running entirely on bad decisions.
Bobby's shoulder brushed yours then, quick and tender, so quick it could have been ignored, but you were already heightened, alert to every movement around you. Neither of you moved away, his eyes flicking down briefly before returning to yours.
"Hey." He rasped softly, lips parted as he turned to rest onto his arm.
"Hey." You whispered back, swallowing thickly.
“Bobby I don’t think..”
You weren’t able to continue, to telll him it was a bad idea, that it was wrong, but before either of you could overthink it, he leaned in.
The kiss was soft. Tentative and warm, his lips brushing over yours with a desperate tenderness, and you almost melted into it, almost.
You jumped apart from him when you heard footsteps, catching the gaze of your best friend in your peripheral. Bobby only retracted, still ghosting your lips as he released the palm he’d placed on your cheek.
Kat appeared around the corner, standing beside the TV stand, carrying the popcorn in a bowl she’d somehow found. Her eyes darted to Bobby, then at you and then back to Bobby, a hand moving to her hip, and for a moment none of you said anything.
"...Seriously?"
“Kat I can—“ Your face burned.
Bobby immediately pointed at you, “Her fault.”
"My fault?" You whipped your head toward him.
"Absolutely." His face was unreadable, even if the smirk that pulled at his lips was far from innocent.
Kat stared for another second before letting out a laugh so hard the bowl of popcorn ruffled in her hands.
"You two are unbelievable. You couldn’t have waited for me?”
She tossed the bowl softly onto the bed and climbed onto the mattress beside you. You only stared at her, at both of them, eyes wandering where your heart hammered in your chest in a way you didn’t know how to feel. Shame? Guilt?
“Really I didn’t think—“ The words left your mouth before you could hardly speak, stumbling over them to explain.
“You have no idea how long we’ve waited to do that.” Kat cut you off gently, settling herself comfortable under the blanket.
Desire—
“You— uh, what?” Your head snapped up, and she just nodded, popping a piece of popcorn into her mouth with a smirk, handing the bowl over to you.
We. The word lingered in your head, stirring your senses as if you’d been dreaming. But they only smiled at you, amused by the dumbfounded look on your face, as if all of it, their own agreement of you, had been common knowledge.
The three of you collapsed into a tangled pile of blankets and laughter, yours somewhat in disbelief. But even as the three of you rested back, Kat bumped her shoulder against yours.
"Move over."
You rolled your eyes and listened, shuffling over into the very middle of the bed, both of their leg’s sticking into yours from the sides. “Bossy."
"Always."
Bobby groaned dramatically as Kat stole half of the blanket, and with the minutes passing and him still busy complaining about the blanket theft, Kat glanced over at you and the playful expression on her face softened.
"Come here," she said quietly, beckoning you over with the pull of her fingers. And before you could ask what she meant, not that you bothered to question, she leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips.
She looked just as surprised as you felt when she pulled back, her hand splaying at your hip. Bobby blinked from behind you, grinning softly, leaning around you both where you could both see him.
"Oh, so we're all doing that now?"
Kat reached at her side and threw the pillow behind her back at him. The three of you dissolved into laughter again, and that time nobody seemed interested in pretending that nothing had happened.
Because there was something different underneath it all. Something shared between all three of you finally coming undone.
You shook your head, resting back into one another and staring mindlessly at the static buzzing from the television. The three of you must have passed another two blunts between you when the haze grew, thick and heady. The room contorting amongst you all into something more heated, as if the air had been sucked from the space entirely. A leg slid up against yours, and fingertips touched at your thigh.
Kat steadied her hand there as your breath stuttered, the cool air of Bobby’s exhale sifting right at the back of your neck. Your noses bumped then, rocking back and forth as your breaths mingled, lips ghosting through lidded eyes and exhilaration.
“Hey, you know we haven’t got to do anything you don’t want to.” She was breathless, brown eyes gazing into yours with careful consideration that washed all over your face.
“You want this?” You tilted to look at both of them, Bobby and Kat looked at each other over either side of you and meeting back to you, their hands curled around one another’s, “Uh.. yeah, more than anything..”
You nodded slowly, the breath catching in your throat, “Then I want to.” Your hand curled around Kat’s neck as she dipped back to kiss you, this time hungrier, her tongue sweeping across your lip, and inching you both back against the headboard.
“You’re so so pretty..” She mumbled into your lips with skin pressed against skin your tongues locking around each others and another pair of lips at your neck.
“Open up for me Angel..” Bobby called out to you, arm bending over your waist and snaking the t-shirt from on you. You retracted only for a moment, the material being pulled away and tossed over on the floor, revealing the swell of your breasts. Long, warm fingers tweaked your nipple before his body had bent over you, sucking one into his mouth. His tongue was hot against your the sensitive bud, swirling harshly until you moaned into Kat’s mouth.
One hand fell into his hair, threading through the fine blonde strands as you arched into the feeling, his hand staying gripped at your hip to keep you in place.
His own t-shirt rose over his head with one steady tug, reaching for your hand to put it against his skin, letting you feel him. You traced the warm planes of muscle, down his chest and to his abs, and further along the v of that dipped beneath his jean shorts. Bobby shuddered against you, pressing into your thigh, and trailing his fingers down your sides.
You watched them through the haze, a gentle buzzing in your fingertips and your chest. The high from the pot or them you couldn’t tell, and not that it mattered.
They pulled away only for a moment, impatient and needily, Kat’s arms rising on instinct as he helped her take the rest of her clothes off, sliding her shorts down the legs before her fingers worked at undoing his belt buckle, reaching to cup the bulge beneath his pants, already tented and aching. “Save it.. for next time baby.” She mumbled against his lips over you, and he groaned into the kiss with a slight nod.
Next time.
He shrugged the rest of his clothes off, leaving him only in his underwear, the hard line of his cock poking through the dark fabric. She rose beside him, the curve of her breasts shadowed beautifully in the golden light, and the tan flesh of her thighs curling over yours. The pressure swirled in your belly at the sight, arousal coating slick between your thighs.
Bobby settled behind you, an arm slipping around your waist as though he’d always belonged there, and the warmth of him at your back only made Kat’s presence in front feel more overwhelming. You shivered at the feeling, hands moving between the both of them as they settled.
Kat’s fingers brushed loose hair from your face before cupping your cheek, foreheads touching briefly, sharing a knowing smile that felt private despite the crowded tangle of limbs and blankets.
“There you are,” Kat murmured softly.
The attention from both sides left you breathless, almost unable to move if you couldn’t feel the thump of heartbeats and burning touch of skin.
Bobby’s chin stayed pressed to your shoulder, his hands sliding lower, gripping your hips to keep you pinned between them. Kat’s mouth claimed yours again, her tongue sliding deep while her fingers pinched your nipple hard enough to make your back arch. Bobby’s cock dragged along the cleft of your ass, thick and hot, already leaking as he rocked forward in slow, deliberate thrusts that never quite pushed inside.
"Fuck, you’re soaked," he muttered against your neck, teeth scraping over the fresh mark he’d just sucked there. His tongue followed, licking the sting away before he dropped lower, body snaking further down the bed, spreading your thighs wider with his shoulders. The cool air hit your pussy, as he turned you onto your back, both pairs of eyes flicking between you he gave one long, filthy lick from your entrance to your clit, making your whole body jerk back against the ruffled sheets. He groaned into your cunt like he was starving, sucking your swollen clit between his lips and flicking it with the tip of his tongue, teasing two thick fingers through your folds.
Kat swallowed your broken moan, grinding her soaked pussy against your thigh. She grabbed your wrist and moved your hand between her legs. "Please.." Your fingers slid through her slick folds, her legs widening as two of them sunk knuckle-deep into her tight heat while your thumb rubbed tight circles over her clit. She rode your hand with short, desperate rolls of her hips, her juices coating your palm as she panted into your mouth.
Bobby pulled his fingers out and replaced them with his tongue, fucking you with it in messy, wet strokes before he sucked your clit again, loud and obscene. Spit and your arousal dripped down his chin, his one hand keeping you spread open while the other stroked his cock in time with every thrust of his tongue.
"Taste so fucking good," he groaned, voice muffled against your pussy. Kat fluttered around your fingers as she came with a sharp cry, her thighs shaking and wetness gushing over your hand. She didn’t stop moving, she only kissed you harder, biting your lower lip while her fingers found your other breast and squeezed it into her hand.
Bobby clamped at your thighs, tugging you further down onto his mouth as you mewled, bucking your hips against his face while your fingers pumped in and out of Kat’s wetness, drawing all of you closer to your edge. He rubbed himself into the sheets, fucking himself through the rough fabric of his pants and into his palm desperately.
Moans filled the room of the empty store, so confined and warm, that all care for even being there had left your mind, filled with the haze of them fucking you. You felt the peak of your climax, falling over the edge with the burn of Kat’s whines into your neck and Bobby’s tongue.
“Fuck, make her come Bobby..”
Kat straddled your chest, knees planted on either side of your head, lowering herself onto your waiting mouth, grinding down with a breathy moan as your tongue pushed inside her. Your tongue and sucked at her swollen clit while she rocked against your face her brow pulled tight as she gripped the headboard. Her juices coated your chin and cheeks, as she rode you harder, Bobby’s face still buried between your spread thighs, tongue working in relentless, sloppy strokes.
He dragged the flat of it up through your soaked folds, circled your swollen clit, plunging back down to fuck into your dripping hole. Every lewd sound and moan echoed in the quiet room, his fingers digging into your ass, holding you open while he rode you through your high.
Your own climax hit fast and hard, crashing over your body in a wave and making you come with a muffled cry, your fingers tightening at Kat’s waist. Your thighs clamped around Bobby’s head as your pussy clenched and pulsed, fresh wetness flooding his tongue and he groaned into you, lapping it up greedily while his hips jerked against the mattress. The friction against his trapped cock was too much, “Fuck fuck fuck..” He came with a broken grunt after a few sloppy thrusts, hot cum soaking through his pants in thick spurts, his whole body shuddering between your legs.
Kat followed seconds later, her hips stuttering over your tongue as she came, grinding down hard, her thighs shaking on either side of your head. She cried out into her hand, gushing over your lips and chin, riding out every wave until she finally went limp. The golden strands of his hair fell into his eyes, his forehead rocked into your inner thigh as he finally let up, panting to catch his breath.
Her body fell down beside you, climbing from you carefully where the three of you collapsed together in the tangled sheets, a hazy sheen coating your bodies.
Kat slid to curl against your side, her face tucked into your neck, still breathing hard. Bobby crawled up behind you, pressing his sticky, cum-wet front to your back and wrapping an arm around both of you. His breath warmed your shoulder as he nuzzled closer. Kat’s fingers traced lazy circles on your stomach while Bobby’s hand rested heavy on your hip. No one spoke. Just the sound of slowing breaths and the quiet creak of the bed as you all melted into one another, warm and spent.
The three of you lay there, tucked and blissed out in a bed you shouldn’t have been in, veiled moonlight peeking through the thin shutters in the small glow of the showroom. Every buzz of the high eased off into a comfortable tiredness, as your breathing evened out.
“I think I need new shorts.” Bobby mumbled into your back, and you let out a short giggle hearing the smack against muscle from Kat’s hand reaching over. But none of you bothered to move, his shoulders shrugging, and the pair of them cuddling around you as his arm swung over you both.
So much for bad decisions. But secretly, none you hoped it would end. After all, it was just the beginning of something none of you were ready for.
the way bobby's death (and kat's) could've been avoided if clark just THOUGHT to bring a good pair of scissors and tied a better fucking knot damn it 💔
THREE’S A CROWD, bobby franklin & kat taylor (x reader)
a month ago, during a particularly raucous party game of truth or dare, you found yourself wedged between the bodies of your closest friends and established couple, bobby franklin and kat taylor. a three minute makeout session one night soon developed into three weeks of unspoken tension, and by the fourth week, bobby and kat are finally ready to talk about it—and they have a lot of shared thoughts about you.
18+ minors dni
✶·˚ content: afab!reader, throuple makeout sesh, domestic bobkat fluff (established relationship), bobkat are both equally down bad for reader, hella bisexuality, discussion of consensual polyamory, bobby being overprotective of reader (inklings of jealousy shh), it’s halloween baby!!, reader is an art student and a trust fund baby (but a sweetheart), no use of y/n
✶·˚ nsfw: marking, voyeurism (someone records the dare using bobby’s camera) (and he keeps the tape afterward bc duh), general horniness, honestly very sfw otherwise
✶·˚ wc: 6.2k
✶·˚ note: using finn and lukita’s irl birthdays, i made it so reader and bobby are still 21 at this point & kat is already 22 (bc i luv the idea that she’s older than him by two months lol). i apologise if there are any inaccuracies about cali, etc; i do not live in the states (yippee!). rip bobby you would have loved deftones
NOVEMBER, 1989
Santa Clara County, California. November, 1989. The doorstep to the 90s.
Ever since the tech boom of the past decade had wiped out a significant chunk of regional agricultural land, the fall season in Santa Clara had stopped looking less like an explosive motley of cozy colors—reds, burnished oranges, yellows—and more like the corporate hell landscape of its sister city, San Jose.
Silicon Valley was a shithole. Robert Franklin knew this. Kathrine Taylor knew this, too. And so did you.
But this anecdote isn’t quite about you. At least, not through your eyes—not yet.
It was the last week of fall—a weekend—when Bobby and Kat found themselves awake late at night; so late, their neighbors had fallen into a rare, languid silence. The bed was for sleeping and for sex, of which they were doing neither. So, they’d settled for slumping down onto the living room sofa while Bobby pretended not to worry about student loans and Kat pondered over the odd behaviors bossman Clark had been exhibiting lately.
In the corner of the room sat an old television, an unplugged fan that hadn’t seen a day of rest over the summertime, and several cardboard boxes of Bobby’s shit he had had yet to bother to unpack. The staticky hum of the box TV had become a soft drone below the movie neither he nor Kat were particularly invested in. She’d slotted in the first VHS her hands found—some horror movie Bobby had seen a hundred times—and used the distraction as background noise while she stitched new patches (two of which you’d given her) into her favorite denim jacket.
“You know you can buy ones that iron on, right?” Bobby said beside her, meaning the patches. He took a long drag from his cigarette, angling his chin to blow out the smoke away from his girlfriend rather than at her.
She didn’t look up from what she was doing. “And you know that I already know that, right?”
“I—”
“And that what I know now is more than what you’ll ever know, do you know?”
“You—what?” Bobby blinked. He checked to make sure that what he was holding was, in fact, a regular Marlboro red and not a joint. Yep. Regular cig. Bobby’s brain was fried alright, only it was the kind of neurological brain fry he’d been born with. “Whatever.”
Kat quietly snickered to herself. Bobby, whose arm was slung over the sofa, reached around her head to teasingly pinch her earlobe.
He was sporting a Grateful Dead t-shirt he almost never took off except to begrudgingly let Kat launder it. The shirt matched the same one you had in your own closet; concert merch you’d bought when he, you, and Kat saw the band perform live back in September. Bobby’d blown through over three weeks’ worth of salary (and emergency pot money—fuck) to acquire those concert tickets off some slummy scalper charging three times the price they originally sold for. But Kat’s birthday was coming up, and it was so worth it just to see the way she and you had lit up when presented with the tickets.
Then, at the venue, when you’d offered to buy everyone merch (“I insist!”) and Bobby had causally brushed you off (“I insist you don’t.”), you eagerly paid anyway with a million-watt grin that gave even the stage’s pyrotechnics a run for its money.
It was the least you could do, really. Bobby getting you those tickets (and for such an extortionate price, too) had very nearly given you a heart attack. You were, as far as the broke college students of the Valley were concerned, a trust fund baby. You could afford the small luxuries (at least, your parents could), and as such, you saw no reason behind your friends spoiling you the way they had been. Both Bobby and Kat had been so kind to you already. They didn’t see you for your money, or your status, or your all-exclusives-paid-for ride into art school. They saw you as your own person.
Someone truly important to them.
By the time the third act of the movie had swung into its final climax, Bobby and Kat had stopped paying attention altogether. The topic for the past hour had been about you. Offhanded mentions at first, so casually slipped in it was as if they had known you for years rather than some thirteen or fourteen months.
“Do you remember when she. . .”
“Oh! And the time the three of us. . .”
“What the fuck, Kat? You knew she stole my novelty lighter this whole time and said nothing?”
“Sometimes she’ll do this thing where. . .”
“No, no, I’m pretty sure she was the one who told me about. . .”
“Yes, I’m still pissed about the lighter! It was vintage and molded after a Scooby Snack!”
It had become glaringly obvious that you were not just a footnote in their lives now, but a book half-read. There were pages to you they had yet to peel back, with many more chapters to go. Some memories of you were like bookmarks; carefully placed and pressed between layers with a soft, endearing charm. Other memories were dog-eared; sharp and bent with defined ridges that served as permanent reminders of your existence: in the unlikely event you became a novella slotted away onto the bookshelves of their minds, traces of you would remain regardless.
“You take that back,” a grimacing Bobby was in the middle of saying. “I’m nothing like Shaggy. I’ve never smoked pot in a Mystery Machine.”
Kat grinned. “You do shag, though.”
The sound that erupted from Bobby’s throat was somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. “The both of you are unbelievable, you know that?”
“Unbelievably good kissers.”
The couple fell very still.
There it was.
The first acknowledgement. That casual slip of the tongue. Only, things were. . . not-so casual anymore, were they? For all their chatter about you, there was one thing they had been skirting around for weeks now.
Kat sighed. “Bobby, I didn’t mean—”
“I can believe it,” he interjected, his voice a degree away from a mumble. “I had the bite marks to prove it. That woman has teeth.”
Tension clotted the air like smoke as Bobby waited for a cue. And he got it, eventually, with the slow upturn of his girlfriend’s glossed lips and a glint in her dark eyes that told him this wasn’t crossing a line, but the relocating of one; drawn in the sand somewhere else, just a little farther out.
“I’ve been thinking.” Kat put down her jacket and punched the needle through the denim for safe keeping. “About the, um. . . about what happened that night, at the Halloween party.”
After another sideward exhale of smoke, Bobby quickly turned his head back to her. “Mm?” He immediately clocked the troubled look in her eyes. “Hey,”—he smoothed his hand toward the nape of her neck, massaging her warm skin with a thumb—“what’s up? Talk to me.”
“I can’t—well.” Kat tried to find the words. Couldn’t. Puffed up her cheeks like a chipmunk and theatrically sighed. “I think, maybe. . . us kissing her was a bad idea.”
Bobby’s breath caught and settled awkwardly in his chest. “Oh.” He was suddenly conscious of the way Kat was drawing circles into one of his knees with a thumb of her own. “I see.”
“I know it was just a stupid party game,” Kat said. “And that’s all it should have been, right? Just a stupid game. But it was also. . .”
His frown was barely perceivable—but Kat noticed, just as she did everything. “A mistake?”
“I was going to say fun.”
“It was—” Bobby laughed through his nose. He wasn’t sure what exactly he was expecting her to say, but that wasn’t it. “Yeah, it was. . . fun. Which is half the problem, isn’t it?”
There was nothing cruel or conniving about the way Kat grinned at him. It was just a grin; this knowing, coy little spark of amusement. “You like her,” she said, “don’t you?”
“I don’t know.”
“You do know.”
“No.” His smile was coy. “I don’t know anything you don’t know, remember?” As Kat chuckled, Bobby turned very quickly and scooped her up into his arms. “But I know I love and care about you,” he went on. “So fuckin’ much.”
“Even if. . .?”
“If?”
“If you maybe did like her in that particular way. . . Would you love me still?”
“Yes,” he said without missing a beat. “Christ, Kat—would you even love me?”
“Oh, babe.” Her tone lowered into that soft, warm note she used whenever Bobby was being a baby about something—which, embarrassingly, he realized he kind of was. “Of course I would. I do.”
She did seem a little offended by the notion that she couldn’t possibly love him still, but she wasn’t saying as much.
“I’ve actually. . . Well.” Kat hummed. “I’ve recently been thinking about that night, too.”
“And every day after?”
“You get it.” She smiled. “We’ve found someone we both connect with, you know, and it’s great. She’s great. I’ve never met somebody whose baseline trait is just. . . kind.”
“Sometimes a little too kind,” Bobby added. Not to be cruel, or necessarily judgmental, but to finally put a voice to an ingredient he had long since noticed about you. “And she’s disarmingly funny, too. I’ve been out-sassed! But, you know, it’s whatever—pfft—not even worried about it.”
Kat snickered and poked the corner of his mouth, which had curved downward into this funny little pout. When she next said your name, it was with a fondness that settled in her chest like a warm, fuzzy glow.
Kat reached up and kissed along her boyfriend’s jaw. “Does thinking about another girl make us bad people?”
“Even if it’s the same girl?” Bobby shuddered; Kat’s breath was like a warm caress against his skin. “I don’t know what it makes us,” he said. “But I feel a lot better talking to you about it.”
“I’m glad you are.” Another kiss, this time to his temple. Then again to his jaw, then his chin, and then— “Because I think I might like her a little bit, too.”
“Just a little bit?”
“Okay, maybe. . . a little more than a little bit.” She blushed. “Probably a lot more emotionally than you do sexually though, you perv.”
He guffawed. “I didn’t even say anything!”
“Bobby, you’re a man with a pulse.” Kat clicked her tongue. “You aren’t slick. I see the way you look at her—and I know you’ve caught me looking at her, too. You get this. . . face about you, like,”—she mimics the so-called face—“this. All stupid and starry-eyed and shit.”
“Fuck off,” he laughed. “I do not.”
“She’s hot.”
“God—right?” He immediately caved. Sucker. “So fuckin’ hot, it’s unfair. And that day we all went swimming in Del Valle? Seeing you two in your skimpy bikinis together was just—I mean, shit. Just—fuck, man.”
At this point, rolling her eyes had become instinct for Kat whenever it came to her Bobby. This time, however, she was grinning big and wide.
Her Bobby.
Yes. For all of his faults and those of her own, her heart told her he was still her Bobby. And you were her girl, in a way. Bright-eyes, she liked to call you. Kitty, you liked to call her.
There was some overlap there.
(And she was willing to share.)
Bobby watched through hooded eyes as Kat propped herself up on her arms and hovered over him, her cropped black hair framing her softly rounded face. She stared at him, searching his face for something, and Bobby stared right back. It was an exchange of silent communication and of respect.
At last, Kat said, “Let’s think on it. Later. Together. What to do about our little. . . conundrum.”
Bobby slid his hand through her hair, pulling her head to his shoulder to plant a somewhat rare, tender kiss to her forehead. “This changes nothing, baby. What we have together. . . I hope it won’t be—you know—awkward or anything just because a gorgeous girl came in with the wind and blew our way—”
“That’s. . . oddly sweet of you to say?”
“I wasn’t done.” The corners of Bobby’s mouth curved slightly upward. “I was about to say she blew in like that first breath of fresh air I get after hotboxing. My head is a little clearer, but she still has me fucked up.”
“Ah,” Kat sighed in reservation. “There’s my Bobby.”
“I trust you, babe,” he said. “And I know I can be irresponsible, and an asshole, and really moronic when I’m stoned,”—she stuck her tongue out at him at that—“but I really do hope you trust me, too.”
Reflex almost got her to make a joke about it. But she wasn’t about to ruin something that felt like progress; even if she wasn’t exactly sure what that progress was heading towards. “I do trust you,” she replied, and meant it. “Of course I do.”
“Then let’s think about it.” Bobby stamped out the last of his cigarette against the grain of the old coffee table—a bad habit Kat hated, and he still had yet to kick. “Whatever we do about this,” he went on, taking one of Kat’s hands into both of his, “whether we decide to tell her about how we feel or not. . . we’ll decide that together. Worse case, she only likes you, and I’ll just have to experience the unfortunate view of you two going at it while I sit there and—”
Kat shoved him. “Dude!”
“Oh, what? You said so yourself—I’m a man, and I have a pulse. You think I haven’t imagined how you two would look together ever since that day at Del Valle?”
“You’re so whoreish.”
“I’m truthful.”
“Truthfully whoreish! I keep expecting the two of you to lay down and have passionate sex right in front of me.”
His responding smirk was shameless. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Kat turned her face away to hide her blush, but Bobby was quick to pull her back to him. He kissed her, slow and soft, the scent of her coconut shampoo and aloe lotion washing over him like a cool day at a poolside.
Pools. Water. You and Kat in bikinis that left nothing to the imagination. Oh, great—Bobby was hard downstairs and thinking about that day at Del Valle all over again.
And then there was Halloween.
Better yet: he had the evidence on camera.
OCTOBER, 1989
“You’re an angel.”
With the flash of a smile and a theatrical curtsy, you replied, “Why, thank you.”
The mellow stranger before you—dressed like a character from a movie you watched religiously—gave a hearty chuckle. “Personality wise too, I suppose,” said the young man—a boy, really—gesturing to your own costume. “Did you make your wings? They look heavy.”
You wriggled your back a bit, feeling the swish, swish of the white feathers you’d painstakingly sewn on to an apparatus constructed from chicken wire, fabric, and foam.
“With a little downtime and wishful thinking,” you remarked, “anything’s possible.”
“Hell yeah,” the stranger said, raising his red solo cup to you as a gesture of cheers. “I’m Dick, by the way.”
You provided your name in response. Only after you took a tentative sip from your own cup did you realize what he’d said. “Wait,”—the faintest bit of liquid dribbled from the corner of your mouth, which you were quick to wipe away—“is your name really Dick?”
“Richard,” he grimaced like that was worse somehow—and maybe it was. “Richard Chaney.”
“Well,” you said, your smile true, “it’s nice to meet you, Dick Chaney.”
You met the rim of his cup with your own and, with a wordless understanding, the two of you chugged back whatever remained of your beers. The beer was cheap, but it was free. And, like a bird released from a cage (or in this instance, an angel), you felt like you’d been marginally freed, too. It was your first night drinking at the tender legal age of twenty-one, though it was far from the first time you’d gotten buzzed.
You weren’t drunk, you were certain of that. But the few hits Bobby had given you of his joint earlier as a “pregame” to Halloween night had begun to turn the edges of everything very soft and misty, like looking through an optical bloom effect of a camera lens.
Now that you were here at the off-campus party, the booming and decidedly pretentious SCU fraternity of male self-importance looked suddenly small. The sheer amount of bodies packed together from room to room was stifling. Students danced, drank, conversed, shouted, sucked face. For your first of-age party, it was, admittedly, a little overwhelming.
Unknown to you was the fact that, as you stood there talking to your new friend Dick Chaney, Bobby had been quietly watching you from the other side of the room. Had been for the past five minutes now. There was nothing sinister about it. Overprotective? Probably. But men noticed you—women, too—and Bobby knew you’d been burned before.
“Having fun being a stalker over here?” Kat inquired as she returned to Bobby’s side with a new drink in her hand. “You’re like a goddamn gargoyle.”
His frown deepened. “I don’t like him.”
“So your solution is to explode the guy with your mind?”
The red in Bobby’s eyes—that glazed-over high ringing the bright blue of his irises—remained as he blinked and merely said, again, “I don’t like him.”
Though she was grinning, Kat rolled her eyes. Her costume was a downplayed version of Lydia Deetz’s red tulle gown from Beetlejuice, her hair jelled and teased into submission like the titular gothic character. Meanwhile, Bobby was dressed as Back to the Future’s Marty McFly, JVC camcorder and all.
That camera was the only thing keeping him sober—alcohol wise, anyway. It wasn’t his. As a matter of fact, it belonged to you. What Bobby did not know, however, was that your declaration of allowing him to “borrow” it was secretly your way of saying “Have it; it’s yours.”
Despite her amused grin, Kat rolled her eyes. “Come on then.” She made a grab for Bobby’s hand and yanked him along, not caring for his protest of ‘Hey!’ as his beer sloshed over his solo cup mid-sip. “Let’s go rescue our girl who definitely doesn’t need rescuing.”
You were alone when the couple approached you—Dick having left to apparently search for his own group of friends—and immediately broke out into a smile with a warmth like the sun.
“Hey again, bright-eyes,” Kat greeted with a quick peck to your cheek. It was a casual exchange, innocent and instinctive: something you’d adopted since the two of you became fast friends after meeting during a protest in the name of feminism. “He wasn’t bothering you, was he?”
“Who?” You blinked. “Dick?”
“Who names their kid Dick?” Bobby grimaced. Even in front of you, he wasn’t hiding his annoyance over the guy—though a slight waver in his tone almost bordered on jealousy. “Or is that your way of saying he was an asshole to you? ‘Cos I can always—”
“Dude,” you said with an ‘are you kidding me’ eyebrow raise, “the guy was dressed as Jareth from Labyrinth. Every good Bowie fan is respectful and at least a little bit gay.”
Kat chuckled, abandoning her half-empty solo cup upon a nearby chest of drawers—and Bobby did the same. “Speaking from experience, obviously,” the former said.
You winked. “Duality, baby.”
For the umpteenth time that night, Bobby awkwardly asked you, “Are you sure you’re okay with me using this?” He switched the JVC camcorder from one hand to the other. “This is an expensive fuckin’ cam to be using as a prop, angel. It’s not even—I mean, look at this thing—it’s practically brand new.”
Angel. Somehow, you felt like he wasn’t just saying that because you were dressed as one.
You managed to keep a straight-face, refusing to betray the fact that you’d bought it specifically as a gift to him. “I prefer photography,” you said with a shrug.
As a briefly distracted Bobby fiddled with the viewfinder, you and Kat shared a knowing look that had you two quietly giggling.
At last, you chirped out an, “Okie dokie!” and put down your empty solo cup between each of theirs. “I’m done standing around.” You grabbed the couple by a hand each, tugging them toward the throng of dancers in the center of the room before either of them could refuse. “Dance with me!”
Neither of them did refuse you, of course—and how could they, when your enthusiasm and tender heart were so infectious?
So, the three of you danced. Amidst the fray of bumping, costumed bodies, the room seemed to shrink until it was two sizes too small. Again, you were hit that vague sensation that it was all very overwhelming. And that was saying something. You’d been in the dangerous throng of mosh pits and underground raves before, and had braved the heat whilst innocently sitting beside your rich parents in the stands of Wimbledon.
It was different with Bobby and Kat, though. They were warm, and welcoming, and. . . safe. They radiated an energy you had become addicted to. They were your friends. You liked being around them. You liked them.
. . .Friends.
They were your friends.
And together.
As a couple.
Oh, how troublesome that was for both your fluttering heart and the current situation you found yourself in—or rather, in between.
“Oops,” Bobby muttered close to your ear, knocking his pelvis against your hip as he carefully avoided your wings and stepped around them to move to the other side of you. “Sorry.”
He was not even the least bit sorry.
Bobby missed both your smile and your eye roll as he moved to stand at your back; Kat pressed to your front in the meantime. You’d folded your wings down into a straight line behind your back—a mechanic you’d had the foresight to add ahead of time—which allowed the three of you to be closer. Now that you were in the middle, the already stifling room had become a furnace. The three of you weren’t dancing anymore so much as swaying, rocking, grinding. Compared to the heavy flux blasting over the sound system, your shared laughter with Kat’s was as melodic as wind chimes as the two of you laughed.
Bobby noticed. Even if he’d arrived to the party stoned out of his fuckin’ mind (he hadn’t), he’d have noticed.
Arms around your neck, Kat—needing to shout to be heard—said to you, “You’re so tense!” She slid her hands down to massage the tender dips between your neck and shoulders. The gentle pressure made you reflexively sigh. “You were fine ten minutes ago.”
Well, you wanted to say, I wasn’t practically dry humping an established couple ten minutes ago.
“I’m great, Kitty,” you instead said, only half lying. “Less talking, more dancing!”
The two bodies pressed against you responded in kind, moving with you like water. Five and a half songs later (most of which you’d all spent shouting out the lyrics to along with the crowd), and the three of you were retreating back to the sidelines for some fresh air.
You found solace outside on the back patio, which looked out onto a light-speckled view of Santa Clara. You’d barely made it past the sliding glass doors when you heard a shout of your name some ten feet away.
It was Dick Chaney again. You realized he was waving you over to a group of partygoers you supposed were those friends he’d scampered off to go locate earlier. There were seven of them in total, and they were sitting and laying in a circle upon a patch of lawn.
“It appears that Dick guy wants you to go over there,” Kat remarked.
“Stupid name. . .” Bobby mumbled when he thought you couldn’t hear him.
You blew out an amused breath. “Come with me,” you rasped. “Both of you, please? I sense a sinister party game is about to occur.”
The couple shared a cautious glance over your shoulder. Obviously, they weren’t about to leave you alone out here with seven strangers—all of whom were costumed; some near-unrecognizable under layers of facepaint and makeup. So, they followed behind you toward the circle of spirited faces, subconsciously holding hands as a means of communicating that they were together.
That didn’t stop Dick from raising an eyebrow at you as you lowered yourself onto the lawn beside him. He’d only known you for a combined twenty minutes, tops, but something about that momentary, wordless exchange with him told you he somehow understood what your friends really meant to you.
Introductions were quickly passed around; a few names you’d managed to latch onto while guiltily forgetting others. Kat, who looked a bit like a puffy red beanbag with her dress now bunched-up around her, was sitting next to you; Bobby and his camera on her other side.
“How about a sexy game of spin the bottle?” one of the guys amongst the group said, chugging the remnants of his Bud Light before throwing it into the middle of the circle.
Dick made a grab for the bottle and immediately tossed it back him. “We can’t spin a bottle in grass, dipshit.” He guffawed—and you decided then and there that you might one day like to become true friends. “Let’s stick to the classics, eh? A little truth or dare.”
Several people ‘oohed’ and hummed, including Kat. Bobby, who was still growing increasingly annoyed at a number of things regarding strangers, hesitated to comment.
“Three rules,” began Dick, holding up a finger for each rule spoken. “One: no choosing truth three times in a row—that’s chicken shit territory. Two: no one leaves this backyard. I can’t be assed chasing everyone around to make sure they held up their end of the dare. Okay? Okay. And three: everyone has to be comfortable with it. Either you’re committed, or you’re out. Told to strip? You strip. Reveal your crush? Reveal it. Told to eat a snail? Uh—maybe don’t do that, actually. Oh, and no maiming, violence, or blood related shit either—this isn’t a cult. Everyone in agreement?”
Everyone verbally murmured and nodded their approval. No one moved or stood to leave, which you all took to mean the ten of you consented.
The game soon proceeded clockwise around the circle, and with Dick volunteering to go first, that meant you’d always be last each round.
It was odd, the amount of things you’d managed to pick up about a group of strangers simply by the way they answered truths and went about completing dares. A particularly mouthy white guy who seemed to be all talk was dared to streak naked in the backyard (He did—it was terribly embarrassing and hilarious). One girl revealed her family supposedly had ties with the Italian mafia (Um?). Bobby was even dared to kiss the hottest guy in the circle (to which you and Kat tried very hard not to burst out laughing after Bobby sighed, crawled over to Dick, and kissed him on the mouth—tongue and all).
Exactly seventeen truths and twelve dares later, and the third round of the night was once again ending with you. Having chosen truth the previous two rounds, you had no choice but to settle for dare this time.
It was Dick who declared he had the perfect dare for you. You were relieved at first (only God knew what mafia girl might have had you do. . .) until you saw it again: that knowing, wordless eyebrow raise Dick quickly shot you.
“I dare you to. . . Hm.” Dick began, stroking his beardless chin just for show. He then got this sort of glimmer about his eyes as he pointed between you, Bobby, and Kat. “I dare you three to make out.”
You startled as though he’d lit a firecracker right beside your eardrum. “That’s daring three people, Chaney. You’re supposed to be daring me.”
“Okay,”—he flashed his palms in mock defense—“then I dare you to make out with the two of them. Better?”
Better? You wanted to scream! You wanted to—to. . . To what? God, this was about to get very dangerous, very quick, wasn’t it?
(. . .Wasn’t it?)
Your gaze immediately drifted to that of your friends to the right of you, who you were somewhat surprised to see already looking at you. Considering the subject matter, they looked. . . reserved somehow. Calm, almost. As if they were handing you all the cards in their deck, and were waiting to see how you would play your hand. Call Dick’s bluff and fold? Call check and go all in?
There was only one choice, really.
The more exciting play.
You lifted your chin in self-defiance. “Alright,” you said. You were never one to pass up a challenge, but this one felt personal, and was breaching new territory entirely. “For—um—how long exactly?”
“Oh,” mumbled Dick, scratching his real hair below his blond Jareth wig, “I hadn’t actually thought that far ahead.”
The guy on the other side of Bobby patted the JVC camcorder that sat on the grass near Bobby’s thigh. “How about until the tape in this bad boy runs out?” the guy declared with a shit-eating grin. “Why not make an event of it.”
“That tape can hold twenty minutes of footage, man,” Bobby remarked, clearly annoyed someone not you was touching the cam.
“Too short a time for you, horndog?”
Bobby narrowed his eyes. You rolled yours. Kat, in the meantime, snickered and turned to her boyfriend beside her. “Well,” she said, “how much B-roll of the night have you recorded so far?”
“Shit, I don’t know,” Bobby contemplated while working out the kink in his neck. “Fifteen minutes, maybe?”
Someone amongst the circle whistled in that suggestive ‘things just got sexy’ way.
Your sudden lack of confidence, however, was decidedly not very sexy. At least fifteen percent of you lacked the certainty to go through with it, but it was that eighty-five percent—that rush of doing something risky and exciting—that really mattered.
And so, to reel it back in, you blew out a steady breath and said, more to the circle than to Dick, “Okay. Dare accepted.”
More whistles and hoots of encouragement sounded off from around you. It was impossible not to blush; you suddenly wished your wings were real and that you could take flight, or perhaps cocoon them around yourself like a blanket to hide under.
“That is,” you quickly shot your friends a look, specifically making eye contact with Kat, “if it’s okay with you guys?”
Her giving the okay meant more to you than his did. Because Bobby was Bobby—sometimes you wondered whether he’d had wet dreams about watching you and Kat making out before, and deduced that he probably had.
(A correct assumption.)
Kat fisted her fingers through the grass to literally ground herself. She didn’t even need to look at Bobby to know he was waiting for her word. And she gave it—sort of—by saying, “I’m not one to chicken out on a dare.”
“Neither,” you and Bobby said in tandem.
The guy beside Bobby plucked the JVC up from the ground before the latter could protest, hiking it up into position near his shoulder.
“Careful with that,” Bobby hissed.
“Yeah, yeah. Calm down, Franklin,” the guy rebutted, and only then did you realize they knew each other. Judging by the way the guy switched on the cam and adjusted everything through the viewfinder, you guessed he must have been a film student at SCU, too. “Okay.” He pointed at you the way a director might. Suddenly you wished it was Bobby recording you, like he usually was—but that wasn’t exactly an option. “Ready to roll at your word, chica.”
You shot the guy an unimpressed glare. “Keep my ass out of your shots,” you said pointedly. “No unnecessary pervy shit.”
“Tempting. . .”
Bobby struck the guy’s knee for that.
With one last accusatory look Dick’s way—who merely winked at you in return (the bastard!)—you pushed yourself up onto your hands and knees and began the crawl toward the space between Bobby and Kat. You went slowly, attempting to steady the rapid beating of your heart, which had the absolute opposite effect on the couple as they watched you slink closer like some kind of aphrodisiac pantheress. Kat, already closest to you, swallowed and shuffled a little to the side to make room for you between her and Bobby.
You bit your lip and glanced back at the camera. “Until the tape runs out, right?”
Director-guy gave a thumbs up behind the viewfinder. “Starting. . .”—he clicked a side button to start the recording, upon which the tape whirred to life—“now.”
Five minutes.
What was five minutes of kissing between friends?
Four minutes and fifty-six seconds.
You weren’t sure who to grab first. So, abandoning forethought, you simply grabbed the both of them at the same time, tugging Bobby in by the vest of his costume and warmly cupping your hand around Kat’s cheek to guide her face toward you. At the very last moment, you decided to kiss her first, testing your theory about Bobby imagining you together.
When her lips met yours, they were petal-soft and willing, parting as you coaxed a gasp out of her by moving your hand from her cheek to the nape of her neck instead, where you used the friction to bring her closer. She tasted like a berry you suddenly couldn’t recall the name of—one of them; all of them; whichever. Sweet. Sharp. Almost floral. And a lot like the color red; a shade as vibrant as the tulle of her costume.
Still with your hand fisted in his vest, Bobby hovered a breath away, watching you both, studying you, as a low groan erupted from the back of his throat only you and Kat could hear.
Knew it, you thought.
The camera picked up everything else, including the way you traded her mouth for his, yanking him to you with a strength that lacked any and all caution and had now become something closer to desperation.
In comparison, Bobby tasted almost. . . familiar. You often smoked together; had hit the same pregame blunt earlier. You preferred the same brand of alcohol. He tasted like both these things. And yet, you were briefly perplexed as your mind raced to find a way to describe the underlying note of his kiss. Hungry. Self-assured. Burning.
So too burned the tender flesh of your skin as Kat dipped her head to kiss the salt of your neck, already warmed and slick with a thin sheen of sweat from dancing. Her tongue dragged slow circles over you, encouraging your own to flick out from your mouth to explore more of Bobby’s. He was surprisingly responsive and self-possessed. A little stiffer than Kat, perhaps (he was a man with a pulse, yes—but still a marginally respectful man), and he let you lead for the most part, not quite sure how far he was allowed to go.
You were distantly aware of voices, and whistling, and music, and a prickle of invisible electricity stabbing at your back from the video camera. But the witnesses and the background noise and the night around you faded, until all there was was you, Bobby, Kat, and this unspoken, nuclear energy warbling between you three like radioactive fallout.
Suddenly you were all over each other. Any restraint you might have had fizzled away along with the neurons in your brain, which had turned to mush. Kat was kissing you. . . and then she was kissing Bobby. . . and by that point, you’d already latched onto the place below his jaw with your mouth, trailing a line of kisses toward his throat.
He hissed as you near-bit and sucked a little too hard, but he did not stop to complain about it. You left several markings with your teeth, then moved on to pepper a few kissed-on bruises over the tender muscle in Kat’s neck.
Someone in the circle said something; a far-off, distant voice in some other land, in some other time. You didn’t care for it. You were attentive as you watched Kat reach around to pull Bobby in by the blond of his hair until the two were crashing their lips together over your shoulder. Your lashes fluttered like the feathers on your wings as you gazed at the two above you, your chest rattling with a soft, auspicious laugh. They were touching you and kissing each other at the same time—messy and uncoordinated and all tongue—and you felt wonderful.
You barely had time to blink before they detached and immediately set to work on you again. Bobby’s tongue and teeth found your neck, sucking and biting at the flesh, while Kat grabbed you by the chin and devoured your mouth with hers. You were breathing heavy, faintly mewling as they molded you between their hands like putty.
And then came that distant voice again.
“Yo!” they yelled. “I said that’s it for the tape; the recording called quits!”
There was an audible little ‘pop’ of your lips detaching from Kat’s, then another as Bobby pulled away from your neck after one last purposeful suckle. You didn’t make immediate eye contact with the two, or wait for either of them to say anything.
Now that it was over, you were afraid the mirage of that radiating togetherness would somehow shatter.
Steeling your resolve, you turned your head, heart slamming against your ribs like a gale force wind, and made eye contact with the camera.
“You get all that?” you asked.
Director-guy grinned. “Three minutes of footage, chica.” He whistled low. “Now that’s what I call a show.”
Three minutes.
When you finally turned back to Bobby and Kat and fell level with their eyes, the two of them were breathing hard and panting like you. Likewise, your own costume and hair were surely as frazzled as theirs appeared.
Talk about a show indeed.
Mustering up whatever sliver of confidence remained within you, you declared, “That was fun!” and reached out with both hands to affectionately pat the both of them on a cheek each. “If my ass ended up on that footage at all thanks to your director friend there, Bobby,” you murmured, “I’m coming to your place and burning it.”
It came as a great relief when Bobby laughed. Kat, meanwhile, melted below your touch.
Three minutes.
You’d been expecting five.
Somehow, cruelly, it felt like those precious two minutes had been stolen from you.
the way bobby clings so tightly to kat until he realizes he'll drag her down with him, so he lets her go, and she tries so hard to keep holding on to him. the way they were just two college kids with their entire lives ahead of them. the way bobby looked at kat right before being dragged down.
synopsis: you, bobby, and kat gets dragged into clark’s messy explanation of needing you three for a research in the shop, what the three of you wouldn’t expect is that it would be the last day your trio was seen.
warnings: 18+! sexual themes(though, it is very short), cursing, deaths, characters could be ooc, my grammar(eng isn’t my first language!)
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Soft snoring fills the room as you wrapped your arms around your boyfriend, Bobby.
Kat came the night before for the sleepover you three planned, basically, it was just a night of watching movies, drinking, and chilling.
Til there were numerous knocks on the door, they were calling for Kat. You groaned as you slap Bobby’s chest to wake him up, Bobby slightly opened his eyes as he glanced at the door, he wrapped his arms around you for a second before he finally stood up to open the door.
Clark kept knocking on the orange door infront of him, sneaking glances at the window, “Kat!” he calls.
The door finally opens, revealing a shirtless Bobby.
“Wait, Captain Clark?” He mutters, eyes squinted from the bright sunny light outside.
“Wait, wait, wait, wait, Kat?” Bobby calls her, luckily, Kat was awake, she just didn’t hear the knocking.
“I’m coming.” Kat walks to the front door.
“Kat!” Bobby impatiently yells.
“Okay, I’m coming!” Kat says, “What the fuck?” Her brows furrowed as she sees her boss infront of the door.
You also made your way to the door, wondering what the fuss was about.
“Look, yeah, I’m sorry.” Clark starts, “What are you guys doing tomorrow?”
“What are you talking about?” Kat asks, unsure of his intentions.
“I’ll pay you, 2hours, overtime.” Clark says, hoping they’d just agree and get on with it.
“Okay, but like, pay us for what exactly? You’re being a little shady, Clark.” You sneaked into the conversation.
“Research.” Clark hesitates, “You got your camera, right?” He asks, “Right?”
“Well, it’s kind of mine, but...” You clarified, looking at the two if you’re in with whatever Clark was babbling about.
═════════════════════════
You took your camera out and turned it on, started recording and gave the camera to Bobby who handled it with care, he loved your camera, so much.
He recorded himself facing a body mirror, you walked by and watched him, noticing his crop top riding up a little to reveal the small of his happy trail.
You couldn’t help but sneak a little flashback in your head.
═════════════════════════
You moaned as Bobby pistons his hips to yours, looking down at where you two connect, you placed your palm on his abdomen to ease his thrusts as it was feeling so good, too good.
“Ah, Bobby please…” You whined.
“Please what, baby?” He grunts, leaning down to kiss a trail on the side of your neck.
“Shit, Bobby I can feel it!” You arched your back, one hand gripping the sheets as the other was placed on his belly, right below his bellybutton to slightly push him away.
“Stop,” Bobby took your hand and pinned it down next to your head as you cried out, feeling your release as Bobby thrusts his way through it.
“Fuck, Bobby!” You pulled him down to hug him, feeling good that he almost overstimulates you from the amount of thrusts he’s still giving.
Bobby slightly pushes your thighs up as he felt his own end nearing, softly moaning as he suddenly gave a thrust, before he stood there, cumming deep into you.
You couldn’t help but moan a little from the feeling, hot spurts of cum coating your walls as you both took a breath, before smiling at each other.
═════════════════════════
Snapping out of your small head, you side hug Bobby as he turns the camera to Clark, who was packing up things for the “research”.
“What’s the rope for?” Bobby asks.
“Supplies.” Clark calmly answers.
“Great, he’s tying us up now.” Kat sarcastically says.
“No, we’re going to tie ourselves up.” Clark corrects her.
You glance at Kat as she mouths, “What the fuck?” to you and Bobby, you walked towards her to try and comfort her from what she’s feeling, and you’d admit it, you also do feel really weird about this.
“Uh, you still haven’t told us what we’re doing here, man.” Bobby says.
“I did tell you, research.” Clark says, “We’re bringing supplies and we’re using them for research, it’s not that hard to understand.” Clark sassed out.
“Okay asshole.” You quietly scoffed.
“Okayy, research for what? You gotta be more specific.” Bobby asks again.
Clark finally stood up and walked towards a taped out rectangle on the wall.
“I’m gonna go through the door.” Clark points at the taped out wall.
“What door?” Kat asks.
“That’s the door, I taped an outline on the other side too, just to help us find our way back.” Clark tells them as Bobby was lowly snickering behind the camera.
“Bobby?” Kat says, very worried as she held onto you, too.
“What?” Bobby chuckled.
“Look, I know it sounds crazy, but follow my lead. Okay? I wanna be back before sun up.” Clark says.
“Dude, it’s like 9pm what the fuck?” Bobby muttered as Clark walked through the “door”.
“What’s the fuck!” Your eyes widened as Clark disappeared from the wall, hands now clutching both Kat and Bobby’s arms.
“Fuck, Clark! What the fuck? How did you-“ Kat says, scared, weirded out, panicked.
“Dude! Did you just fucking see that? How did he?” Bobby freaked out, but in the more excited way.
Clark reassured the three that he was behind the wall, Bobby excitedly walked near it, ignoring Kat and your words of telling him to stop for a second.
Bobby shot his hand out, pressing his hand through the wall, seeing his hand disappear and come back with a crazed laugh, “What the fuck!”.
═════════════════════════
“You don’t think he would toast(idfk what kat said here) us or something, do you?” Kat nervously asks Bobby as you walked to his other side.
“What? no no no, we’re not on drugs. I think I’ll be able to tell if I’m high.” Bobby reassures.
“You are high.” You tell him as you place a hand on your forehead, looking around.
═════════════════════════
“Okay, we’re here. I need one of you three to go down there and record everything you can.” Clark says as he starts tying up the blue rope on a random bed frame.
“Um, the camera belongs to me, so…” You say.
Bobby snapped his head towards you, then walked forward, handing the camera to Kat.
“Baby, no, you and Kat weren’t so sure of coming here anyway, I’ll do it.” He says, holding your arms.
“Bobby, it’s okay, I think it’s kind of my time to do something that’s out of my comfort zone. I’ll be back quickly, I promise.” You reassure him, going on your tippy toes to press a kiss on his lips.
“Okay, fine.” He says, you walk near Clark before Bobby quickly pulled you to a kiss again.
═════════════════════════
Clark now ties the blue rope around your waist, your brows furrowed as Clark’s knot was quite tight on your body.
“Alright, you filming?” Clark asks you.
“Yeah.” You reply, pointing the camera at the knot before pointing it to Kat and Bobby who watched with worry.
“I don’t see why ___ has to be the one to go.” Kat worriedly says as she looked at Clark.
“She’s the one with a camera.” Clark tells her.
“I wanted to.” Bobby chimes in.
“The camera’s hers as she said.” Clark says.
“But that corridor literally look suspicious! C’mon ___, let’s just go home.” Kat nearly cried out.
“Any trouble, you just give a tug.” Clark says, ignoring Kat’s whining.
Kat stood up, almost yelling at Clark, before she looks at you.
“___, baby, you don’t have to do this.” She says, holding your hand, Bobby nodding behind her.
“It’s okay guys, money’s money. I need it, I’ll be quick, okay?” You reassure them.
“This is stupid!” Kat looks at Clark.
“Go as far as you can, ‘kay?” Clark tells you, you nod and look down at the corridor.
═════════════════════════
You now walk down slowly at the narrow entrance of the deep, steep, corridor.
“Fuck, it’s so steep, my shoes aren’t made for this.” You whisper to yourself, or to the camera, as you continue to walk down.
Now arriving at the end of the corridor, you gag at the smell of the room, “Shit, what the fuck?” You glance around the room that was filled with piles of dirty clothes.
“Ugh, I’m in.” You say loudly for the three to hear.
“See anything?” Clark asks from above.
“It’s just full of dirty clothes here, and it smells like shit, what is this?” You said, sounding annoyed from the smell.
You now roam around the first room on your left, piles of clothes were in it, if you weren’t mistaken, one particular shirt looked like Bobby’s from when you three went to help Clark shoot an ad for his store.
“Why is this here?” You asked yourself, before moving back and filming the ceiling. “Okay, Uh-huh.” You mutter as you moved to the next room.
There were lights flickering in that room, you noticed that the rope stopped you from going any further.
“You okay, baby?” Bobby asks, “Yeah, can I get more rope?” You ask as you held the rope.
“That’s the rest of the rope, baby.” Bobby says.
You, on the other hand turned your attention back to the room with flickering lights, staring at it for a second before you saw something move and walk towards you, something that didn’t look like it was made by a person, it was uncanny.
Your breath hitched before you ran back to the entrance of the corridor, hurrying to walk back up there.
“Shit, shit, shit, pull me up!” You panicked as you used to rope to steady your walking.
“Bobby, pull me up, goddamnit!” You yell as you finally make it up there, you pant as you handed Clark the camera.
“There’s something there, shit! There’s something down there.” You panic as you try to untie the rope around your waist.
“Baby what happened? It’s okay.” Bobby tried to calm you down, grabbing your face, but you moved away, trying to untie yourself.
“Clark what kind of a fucking knot is this?” You ask, fumbling with the rope, before you were pulled, you held onto Bobby as you tried to stop the pulling by leaning on the wall.
Clark quickly went over to help untie the rope from your waist while Bobby held you, he had a panicked look on his face, so does Kat who held your hand tightly with her own.
“Clark, what the hell are you doing? Get the rope off of me!” You yell at him before you were again pulled by whatever is down there, you now held onto the three of them.
“Shit, don’t let go, Bobby, don’t let go!” You felt how strong the pull was, it was successfully pulling you down as you now laid on your stomach, hands tightly against the three.
Until the final tug had you sliding down the corridor, back to whatever the thing was down there.
“___! Shit!” Bobby yelled before he didn’t think twice and slid down the corridor to rescue you.
“Bobby! ___!” Kat cried out, Clark also yelled your name, troubled before he tried to stop Bobby from going.
As Bobby reached down the corridor, he watched in horror as he could see how this thing ripped you apart like you were nothing, it laid its eyes on him before it attacked him too.
Kat and Clark finally fell down the corridor with the help of the bed, the camera successfully captured the moment your and Bobby’s bodies were dragged into nowhere, disappearing from the rectangular like door that was placed horizontally.
Kat screamed both of your names before she ran after the two of you, Clark yelled after her as he stood up, grabbed the camera, and searched for a way out.
