fingers clamp at her nose part way through her sordid impression, rendering it pitchy and nasally under the pinch of his thumb. there’s not really much point in asking zibby not to do the accent. it’s a far way off from kaya’s level of accuracy, but it’s getting there, which is a testament to the amount of time they spend together. plucking popcorn from her bed before she can sweep it from the sheets, a hurried bite of “ that’s what she said !” comes crying from his lips ( it’s to be expected ) like the decrepit old corpse of nana you wheel out on her stretcher for christmas dinner every year. “ gross, i just had like, this disturbing, intrusive vision of us fucking, ” jude starts, nose wrinkling, a crease between his eyebrows, “—and you calling me nasty in like, some mega porny voice. ” he looks at her then, and he has to snap his gaze away, because now all he’s seeing is an open-mouthed zibby, writhing on top of him like a glamour model. “ grim. i need to wash my eyes out. ” he pushes off the bed, makes his way to the bathroom, zibby still parroting away behind him, and his eyes are rolling before he’s even had the chance to splash them with cold water.
“ i don’t hate women, bee. ” he just generalises, more often than not, because despite having three older sisters he’s still quite clueless when it comes to what women want, and tends to pigeonhole them in the ‘us and them’ way that teenage boys often do. “ i actually love women… ” jude adds, taking a flannel to his face and catching his expression in the mirror. his curls are probably on their last day before needing a wash, and he makes a mental note to buy shampoo on the way back to the trailer park. “ nah, i don’t think you get it, zibs… ” he starts, as he returns to the bedroom, fingers sufficiently wet with water that when he zaps them at her, their intention is met, water flying at her face. he catches her in a headlock as he tumbles onto the bed beside her, bodies melting into each other, a tangled heap of limbs. “ when i say i love women i mean i loooove women. passionately, ” and his pelvis drives forward into the pump of his clenched fist, hip-thrusting against her side like a backing dancer in grease. it’s a crude playground gesture of sexual immaturity that he wouldn’t hesitate to perform with the boys, but he has to remember that zibby isn’t one of the lads. hips cease their grinding and he clears his throat, settling back down by her side a far more sombre jude. “ i’m probably matthew lillard’s character… ” he decides, scrolling through the start menu of the dvd screen and setting it to play. “ like, in an ideal world i’d be billy loomis, but act like a wasteman, that’s not me. ”
It’s purely out of provocation, but Beth grabs the opportunity by the neck as Jude’s confession– a begrudging one, a plaguing vision that she doesn’t suspect haunts him well into the night ( as nor do her own, of course ) –wrinkles her nose in unadulterated disgust. Ironic, given her own invasive thoughts had winked at her from the shadows of her childhood bedroom, the one she lingers in nowadays in a sorry attempt to reconstruct a life quite quickly thrown away.
“Yeah?” she smirks, elbow denting the mattress as she props herself up onto it, laying on her side. Her high ponytail flops to the left when she cocks her head in that direction, all playfulness melting into an exaggeration of utter carnal bliss as her brows draw up, her mouth falls open and her eyes widen, as though incredulous in the face of just how much pleasure Jude can provoke, “fuck, oh, oh, oh my god!! You’re so fucking nasty!! Yeah!!” A fleeting taunt, the expression disappears, replaced by a cheeky glint in the depths of her eyes. “Something like that?” Zibby snorts.
Then there’s water landing with a light splat on her face, almost as if Jude were telling her to cool it, as if she’d been the one to start with the meaningless advances. Before she can even think to complain, Jude’s pinned her into place; Beth’s quick to retaliate. He’s giving her all the more reason to revolt– really, it’s all on him; Beth doesn’t feel one bit bad about an attempted elbow jab straight into his balls. She misses, bouncing the bone off of his hip instead, so they both pay the price with the resulting dull throb
“Jesus!”
Flushed and a little dishevelled, Beth blinks only to find that they’ve finally settled. She’s halfway on his chest, her own jumping as her breaths hiccup out of her in jackrabbit pants. The arm he’d used to torment her lays easily around her shoulders now, welcoming and warm. Solid, like it knows its place is right here, holding her to him. Beth doesn’t think anything of it: They’ve grown used to sharing this casual closeness. Needing it, even.
“Right, you’re the one with the big fat crush on— act like a what?”
Brows furrowed in utter confusion, Beth cranes her neck back enough to shoot the look up at Jude.
