S-Duality: A Marauders Novella

by Lina Andersson

  “Oh, shit,” he mumbled and looked at the door to the phone booth. It wasn’t glass, it could work. So he propped his foot against it, leaned his back against the opposite wall, and started on his belt buckle. “Fucking hell, I love you, baby.”

  CHAPTER SIX:

  Say It

  -o0o—

  Present day, Greenville, Arizona

  FOR SOME REASON, SISCO still saw Bucket as one of the young guys, but he’d actually been in the club for quite a few years. The guy was over forty, but to Sisco he still looked like an innocent little kid. It might just be that he was getting old himself, but some guys also had that look. It didn’t matter how old they got, they were still scrawny and had a roundness to their cheek that just screamed ‘twenty-something.’

  Bucket had gotten married a few years earlier, and they’d had their first kid, too. The woman wasn’t one of those who spent a lot of time at the club, hardly ever in fact. Obviously Bucket had learned his lesson when his first girl had tried to push up on Mace in an attempt to get higher up in the hierarchy. She’d been thrown out on her ass that very night, and Sisco hadn’t seen her since.

  It had taken Bucket a long time to tell them about his wife, Stacie, and she hadn’t been to the clubhouse at all the first year. When their kid was born, the others had welcomed it at the hospital, just like any other club kid, but Sisco’d known that the baby wouldn’t be a kid like Brick or Bear’s kids, who’d had their second home at the clubhouse. It was a boy named Adam, and they’d taken him to the clubhouse to show him off a few times. Stacie had managed to look proud and uncomfortable at the same time.

  He’d asked Bucket about her, but he’d kept quiet, just smiling. Mech and Bear kept their Old Ladies on the outside, too. Mech had always done it, probably because she’d been his wife before he was a Marauder, and even if Bear’s woman, April, showed up at times and was pretty fucking friendly when she did, she wasn’t in the club the same way as some of the other Old Ladies.

  April’d helped out a few times when someone was injured, too, since she was a nurse, and she didn’t seem to have a problem with the club or what they did at all. He guessed it was a thing between Bear and her.

  Bucket’s woman seemed mostly shy, though. Or worried. He’d asked Bucket how she felt about the club business, and he’d admitted she didn’t know much about it. She was mostly upset it meant he had to spend nights away when they were on runs. Sisco assumed some women did find it annoying or upsetting when their men were away.

  Trudy never really did. At least not as long as she got to come and see him once a month, and she’d loved the traveling and opportunity to see new places.

  -o0o—

  Seattle, Washington

  THE TOURING CONTINUED ALL the way up to Christmas. Then they had a few days off, but were back on the road on the 27th. New Year’s was celebrated with another gig as support for two bigger, more successful Seattle bands, and Trudy was with them.

  When they all went into the bus, a guy came running after them yelling about how Haven’s album had hit number one on the Billboard. Haven was another Seattle band, and it felt fucking surreal. For a second, Sisco thought it would never be the same again. It would never just be friends hanging out doing some gigs. Shit was for real now. They had things to prove, both to the world and to each other.

  They kept touring all the way through January, and it might not have been friends hanging out, but he was at least making proper money. A surprising amount of money, and after the January shows he and Trudy moved to a better house. It wasn’t bigger, but it was a slightly higher standard. She loved it and was so eager to re-paint and fix everything in it she didn’t even care that he left for Europe for a month and a half.

  The label had wanted the band to replace him with a more experienced tour manager for that leg of the tour, some guy who used to work with the hair bands of the late eighties. After making sure Sisco was okay with it, Pete and Jonah had told the label to go fuck themselves. They wanted people they knew and could trust around them. They’d seen how the big labels’ men treated the up and coming bands on the New Year’s Eve gig.

  Sisco’d had good experiences when he toured squat-gigs in Europe, but he quickly realized touring regular venues was a completely different thing. Everyone was trying to fuck them over, and he was glad he knew as much about finances as he did because he quickly got into going through the promoters’ budgets at the end of a show to make sure the band got their negotiated share.

  But there were still a lot of fights, and not all venues and promoters were all that helpful. One venue had forgotten to mention there wasn’t anywhere close to park the damn van, and at another they fully expected the band to pay for beer despite signing off on the rider beforehand. And whenever he got pissed, they all of a sudden didn’t understand English.

  The worst was the place that’d booked them without even having a proper fucking stage. He’d totally flipped, but the band had said they’d just do a small acoustic gig instead, and it was one of the best gigs they’d done.

  But throughout the tour, he had regular fits, and he missed Trudy the entire fucking time. They didn’t talk on the phone that often; it was just too fucking expensive to call her. He sent her letters, but it wasn’t as easy for her to reply.

  Being away from her had made him once again decide she was the most perfect person he’d ever met, though. Despite the fights, they were perfect together. Most of all, he liked who he was with her. He was the kind of man he wanted to be when he was with her. It was as if calm had been chasing him and caught up with him when he met her—since that very first night. What she’d said and done should’ve freaked him out, but it hadn’t. She said the same thing, that the intensity should’ve scared her, but it had really just been right.

  The two of them just knowing they were right was most likely the main reason why other people in bed with them had never been a problem. They shared a look now and then, he stroked her hand or the other way around, and that was it. They were okay.

  He had ten days off when they got back to the States, and he spent them with her in bed. Sometimes they played with Jane or with Laurie and Casey, but most often it was just the two of them.

  They managed to have a few fights during those days, too. The kind of fights that included Trudy screaming, him screaming, Trudy throwing things, him screaming some more, Trudy attacking, and the two of them fucking on the closest surface. Often the floor.

  Laurie and Casey had just left, and Sisco had taken Trudy into the bath. He was leaving two days later, and they’d decided to be alone until then.

  She was leaning against his chest, and he gently kissed the side of her neck when he noticed a hickey on her shoulder.

  “Did I do that?” he asked, and she shrugged. “You okay?”

  She’d been quiet, and it didn’t seem to be merely her being tired. She took his hand and interlaced their fingers, giving his knuckles a kiss.

  “Would you marry me?” she asked out of nowhere, the way she often dropped similar bombs on him.

  “You want to get married?”

  She turned around and stood on her knees between his legs, caressing his face.

  “Yes. I want… I want to know it’s you and me.”

  “It is.”

  “I know, but when we do this, and you stroke my hand, I want two rings there. Or to see a ring on you and just know it’s you and me.”

  “Baby, if this is starting to bother you, we stop.”

  “It’s not. I know here, that you’re mine,” she said and tapped her over her heart. “But I’d like something visual that says it, too. Does that make sense?”

  “Yeah, it does.” He grabbed her cheeks and pulled her in for a kiss. “I’d still stop if it’s bothering you.”

  “It’s not, you know it’s not,” she said, and wrapped her legs around his waist. He gently kissed her chest and gave each nipple a lick. She smiled. “I love you.”

  “I love you, baby,” he mumbled an
d embraced her tight.

  They’d been together for years, he loved her, he’d fucking do anything for her, but she’d never, not once, asked him to do something he wasn’t comfortable with, and he hoped she felt the same way.

  “Will you marry me?” he mumbled into her ear. “I don’t have a ring, but I’ll get you one. Any ring you want.”

  “Yes, I’ll marry you, if you promise to not tell anyone I asked first.”

  “I promise. Let me know how I proposed, and I’ll let everyone know,” he laughed. “I would’ve eventually asked.”

  “I know, but it takes you a week to throw away old milk or five months to paint a wall. I didn’t even want to imagine how long it would take you to buy a ring and ask me.”

  “Ye of little faith.”

  She pointed to the left side of his chest. “Would you tattoo my name here?”

  “Can it say Trudy instead of Gertrude?” he asked with a grimace.

  “My name is Trudy, because I’m your Trudy.” She leaned forward again and gave him a kiss. “I knew that I’d hit the jackpot when I found a guy who’d taken a pee on a chapel.”

  “Was that it?”

  “No, it was your laugh. I love your laugh.”

  “I know, baby.” He cupped her cheeks. “Do you want a big, white wedding?”

  “No. I want it to be just you and me. Just us two. It’s for us, and no one else’s business.” She kissed the palm of his hand. “You have May off?”

  “Yeah. Wanna get hitched in May?”

  “Yes,” she smiled.

  “Okay,” he said and gave her another kiss. “Sore?”

  “No.”

  “Good. Because if we just decided to get married I wanna have sex with you.”

  She laughed and got out of the bath, holding out her hand. “You better fucking dazzle me with the ring.”

  “Told you, I’d get you whatever ring you want.”

  “Where’s the fun in that?” she asked and pulled him, dripping all over the carpet, towards the bed. “If you’re the right guy, you can get me the right ring.”

  He bought a plain, thick wedding band for himself, and he got her a set. An engagement ring with engraved flowers and a plain wedding band to go with it. She loved it, but said she didn’t want to wear the engagement ring until they were married. She didn’t want anyone to know, but they both went to get tattoos the very next day. He got ‘Trudy’ tattooed on the left side of his chest, and hers said ‘Sisco,’ because that was who they were to each other.

  They went to the courthouse on a Wednesday morning in May. Trudy wore a blue velvet babydoll dress, and he joked about kinderwhore fashion. She just laughed and pointed out that she’d at least made an effort. He’d sort of made an effort; he wore new jeans and a striped sweatshirt he knew she liked.

  They were in a line of ten other couples, and the actual ceremony didn’t take many minutes, but it was still the best fucking day in Sisco’s life. They both beamed for a solid two hours after putting the rings on each other’s fingers. One of those hours was spent naked in bed.

  “You’re my wife,” he mumbled after the first round as he held her in his arms. He’d been lying there with her naked body against his in silence for a long time, but when realization hit him, that she was his wife, it just sort slipped out. The more he thought about it, the more he liked it. “It’s fucking amazing.”

  “I’m your wife!” She turned towards him. “And you’re my husband. We’re fucking married! Can I pick a guy or what?”

  “Why is it always you who picked me?”

  “Oh, honey, you looked like a deer in headlights.”

  “I did, didn’t I?” He pushed her to her back and kissed down her neck, licked her collarbone, and further down until he had her nipple in his mouth. His wife’s cocky nipple! He was fucking married. He couldn’t get over it. “Fucking hell, I love you, Trudy.”

  “Get down there and show me how much!”

  He lay down comfortably between her legs and gave her little pinches on the inside of her thigh as he dipped down and gave her the first lick.

  “Oh, god!” she groaned. “Again!”

  He pinched the other thigh as well and sucked on her clit, just as he added the last pinch, he shoved the other hand’s fingers into her pussy, and he felt her clench down on his fingers with another groan.

  “Fuck! More!”

  “Such a greedy girl,” he mumbled and kept pumping his fingers inside her, pressing upwards to tease her spot.

  She moved around to lie next to him, but in the opposite direction, and grabbed his dick. Then she took it in her mouth while she threw her leg over his shoulders to pull him towards her.

  They’d already had sex once, they weren’t going to come in a hurry, so they took their time, almost playing around. When he was starting to really get going, she seemed to refuse to pick up the pace. He knew why, so he sat up.

  “On your knees.”

  She didn’t question it, just did as he’d asked. He grabbed a firm hold of her neck, gave her ass a sharp slap, and during her high-pitched cry he rammed inside of her.

  “Oh, shit! I’m cumming.”

  He’d known she was close, and he knew she always preferred to come around a cock. Instead of answering, he kept fucking her, pulling her towards him by his grip on her neck. When he felt her coming, he pulled her up to stand on her knees and slapped her over her clit.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Sisco. Again!”

  Since she was his wife, he figured he should do as she asked and slapped her over her clit again. “Like that, baby?”

  He let go of her neck and wrapped his arm around her, holding her against his chest.

  “I love you,” she mumbled and turned her head to catch his mouth.

  He had his beautiful girl flush against his chest, her breast in one hand, the other hand just resting between her legs to feel her wet seeping. She was perfect, just fucking perfect—and his wife! She grabbed his left hand, and he felt her fingers playing with his gold band. With his tongue in her mouth, he felt his balls clenching, getting ready, but he wasn’t done.

  “Say it,” he mumbled against her mouth. “Tell me you’re my wife.”

  “I’m your wife, baby.”

  He pulled out and turned her around, holding her cheeks, looking into her eyes. “You’re my Trudy.”

  “Forever,” she smiled and lay down, spreading her legs wide. “Always!”

  He got on top of her and slid home. “Always.”

  Two weeks later, they had the party of the last decade of the century to celebrate their wedding. The title of the party was Laurie’s idea. It wasn’t just to celebrate the wedding, it was a good luck party for Riot Act, too, since they were going away for a bunch of festivals and smaller gigs all through the summer.

  Trudy hated big parties where she was the center of attention, he knew she did, so he took her out to the back before midnight and fucked her against the garage wall.

  “You might just have ruined the orgy coming up later,” she muttered once they were done.

  “I don’t think there’s going to be an orgy,” he said while he zipped up his jeans.

  “I know, but I’m hoping that’s what this will lead to, and now I have semen running down my thighs.”

  “It washes off,” he laughed and gave her a kiss.

  “Yeah, but it leaves this weird coating on the skin no matter what you do.”

  She was obviously still a bit sulky, and he took her hand to stop her when she headed back towards the house.

  “Wanna hang out here with me for a while? I’m sure Jane will come and get us if they start something inside.”

  “You really think they will start something?”

  “No, I don’t.” They might have friends who wouldn’t mind a group fuck, but far from all of them, and even fewer would be up for an actual orgy—he wasn’t even sure he was. He sat down on the ground, and she got down next to him. “This really just is to celebrate us.”

&n
bsp; “I know,” she muttered. “It’s nice, I guess, but… It just stresses me.”

  “You should see the tantric sex chair they got us. Think we’ll have a lot of fun on it.”

  “I saw it, and we will,” she confirmed. She leaned her head on his shoulder. “Think you’ll keep up with this touring?”

  “No idea,” he said with a shrug. “Not sure how long they’ll be able keep going like this. Although it does seem to be taking off.”

  He’d been shocked when he came back to Seattle in April; it hadn’t even felt like his old town anymore. There were music journalists all over the fucking place. Some dude had shoved a mic in his face and asked him why he wore flannel and torn up jeans. How the fuck did you answer that question? They’d also asked if his beard and long hair was a statement. A fucking statement? What a fucking joke! Trudy had pulled him away, since she’d sensed he was about to deck the fucking wuss holding the microphone.

  “If you’re not doing that, and you’re going to stop with the pot if we have kids, then what are you gonna do?”

  “The garage,” he shrugged. He’d been working at a garage now and then since he was sixteen; he was sure he’d get a job again if he wanted it. “It’ll be enough to support us. At least for a while, and we have a lot of savings.”

  “Maybe I should try to find a proper job, too.”

  “Don’t have to. You’re selling a lot of paintings.” He kissed her hair. “Do what you want. We’re fine for now and for years ahead. No need to hurry. I can take care of my wife.”

  He wouldn’t force her to work, and he’d make damn sure he could always take care of her. If she wanted to stay at home with any future kids, she would be allowed to. It wouldn’t be a problem. They had enough seed money to pay for the house for years if needed.

  They sat there for over an hour, talking, planning, thinking about what was in front of them. Like they often did, and he loved planning with Trudy. It was everything from the color of the walls in a room to where they’d be in ten years.

  “Thought I’d find you two lovebirds here,” Jane said as she rounded the corner of the garage. She sat down next to Sisco. “I hope I get to play with you guys on that tantric chair.”