Saving from Monkeys

by Star, Jessie L.

  Don't tell me this, I wanted to shout. Don't give up, don't change things. I didn't, though, that would've been too contrary for words. Hadn't I been the one complaining that he was keeping secrets?

  He wanted a reaction, though, that was obvious. He stalked back and forth in his empty room and stared at me, spoiling for a fight. Seeing that I was holding my tongue, he reached for more bait.

  "And you know my Experience of War class? That's a first year course, I don't study it, I tutor it." He waited for a beat and then added, "As a job, for a wage."

  A job, he had a job? A monkey trucking job? I would've laughed if my throat hadn't already closed over in reaction to the ache so evident in his face. After everything, what was I supposed to say to that?

  "...OK." Was what I finally managed to choke out.

  I knew immediately I'd said the wrong thing.

  "OK? Fucking OK?" He lashed out, his hand grabbing a side-table and throwing it with a crash against the wall.

  I pressed my lips tightly together, determined not to say anything else to set him off, and his already dark eyes darkened further as he saw my decision.

  "You fight me every step of the way, you lose your mind about me keeping secrets...?" He broke off suddenly, but started again, taking an almost menacing step towards me. "So that's not enough? You want some more truth? OK, I didn't tell you about selling my car or working for the uni because I liked having one over you when you were so holier-than-thou about money. That's all, nothing better than that, so if you want to get angry Rox, you get angry because you have every right to."

  I pulled at the hole in my t-shirt again, twisting it round in my fingers as I admitted, "I don't want to get angry."

  "Why not?" He pretty much yelled, pushing his fingers through his hair and yanking at it. "Because now I'm not just some vacuous rich boy that makes everything alright? You know what you are, Rox? You're a snob, a bloody reverse snob. Having a job doesn't make you a better person, you know, even arseholes sometimes work for a living. Sorry if that ruins your twisted view of life, but there it is."

  I wanted him to stop, how did I get him to stop? I briefly considered that this was his way of healthily releasing his angst, but this was nothing like the way I'd cried on him. I could see that shouting at me was making him feel worse, not better. So how did I save him from himself?

  And then it hit me.

  "Your vagina and Elliot will thank you for it!" I threw the words out like I was shoving a plug into a hole in a dam. I just hoped it fit.

  It certainly drew him up short, frozen in shock for a moment before he stumbled over a confused, "What? Just...fucking...what?"

  "That's the last thing Nan said to me," I explained, and it was like I'd put a boot to his bruised gut. He took a couple of steps back and hit the wall, sliding down until he sat slumped on the floor.

  "I don't want to talk about Nan." His voice was hard, but blunt, like he'd used up all his sharpness shouting at me before.

  I took a couple of hesitant steps forward and then, when it was clear that the tsunami of his anger had passed, slid down the wall beside him.

  "Yes you do," I contradicted him quietly and he suddenly didn't seem to have the energy to protest.

  "She was talking about personal grooming," I explained, too horrified by everything I'd witnessed that night to be embarrassed by what I was saying. "She seemed to think that my refusing to have a Brazilian wax, was the reason we'd only been together the once."

  He didn't respond, didn't crack even the tiniest smile or make any smartarse comment about my privates. Still, what had I been expecting? What was the state of my pubic hair compared to a complete emotional breakdown?

  On the other hand, I'd obviously got him thinking because, after a brief period of silence, I saw his Adam's apple work up and down a few times and then he said, "People who go on and on about things that have already happened are the ones no-one wants to sit next to on the bus." He obviously saw me looking at him and added, "That's the last thing she said to me."

  "That's actually quite deep," I pointed out, my own throat muscles starting to contract as I felt tears building.

  He did smile then, even if it was twisted.

  "The second last thing she said to me was 'if you'd inherited your grandpa's penis, like I hoped you would, Rox would never have forgotten what you did with it'."

  That surprised a strange, bubbly little laugh out of me.

  So that had been the last she'd imparted to us? Two completely inappropriate comments about each other?

  "She was trying to set us up." I spoke my realisation out loud, but it didn't seem to be anything new to Elliot, who just nodded his head wearily.

  I could see he was starting to suffer that bone deep fatigue that comes after an explosion of feeling and, in deference to this, I didn't say any more. Instead, I leant my head back and closed my eyes, giving him the time he needed to pull himself back together.

  Without seeing or touching him, it was the sound of Elliot's breathing that I went by to judge his level of composure. Quite a while passed before slowly, but surely, his uneven pants became more measured and controlled. It coincided, I realised, with the soothing of my own racing pulse; his level of calm in direct correlation to mine.

  I opened my eyes when I started to feel like I was actually in danger of dozing off and saw that the room had darkened around us. The pale of twilight had turned into the thick depth of night and I preferred it. It helped hide the things missing from his room, the things he'd hidden the sale of just to mess with me. With nothing but the faint outline of the furniture visible we could have been anywhere.

  It was the gloom that gave me the courage to break the long held silence.

  "Do you believe that stuff your mum said about Nan?" I hadn't wanted it to, but during our cool down, that had niggled away at me like an itch. That stuff about Mrs Sinclair having to rely on Nan to feed and clothe her had resonated deep inside me. The fear that your mum wouldn't be competent enough to provide those bare necessities was one I'd lived with daily growing up.

  "I don't think Nan's perfect, if that's what you mean." His voice was back to its normal 'angsty Elliot' tone, the one that, although irritating, was a whole heap better than the out of control one he'd been using just before. "No-one's perfect."

  Well, wasn't that the truth?

  Had Nan been a feckless mother? Through all her tales of her outrageous life, I'd never really thought about where her daughter had fit in. It just wasn't fair! I hated having these thoughts when Nan wasn't able to defend herself or give her side of the story. Elliot was right, no-one was perfect, that didn't mean I didn't still love Nan and it definitely didn't take away the joy she'd given me during a pretty miserable period of my life.

  "Are you going to go in and sit with her tonight?" I pressed, hating myself for it, but thinking that Mrs Sinclair was right on this at least. Nan was all bluster and front so, even though it sounded ridiculous, I didn't think she'd let herself go while we were in there with her...and she needed to go. She'd hate to think she'd become just part of the furniture, she'd be humiliated and, well frankly, bored.

  I could see the muscle working in Elliot's jaw as he ground out, "No."

  It was the right decision, even if it seemed so wrong.

  Completely unable to stop myself this time, I reached up, cupping my hand against Elliot's cheek and pressing a kiss just below his jaw-line. He was so beautiful, even whilst being ripped to shreds from the inside out.

  As I pulled back, I saw that he'd tightly closed his eyes as I'd kissed him, but he opened them again as I moved away and they shone wet in the moonlight. I didn't say anything about it, just leant in against his shoulder and he put his arm around me.

  "Rox?" I felt my name rumble in his chest, but stayed tucked underneath his arm as I muttered,

  "Yeah?"

  "Would you stay with me tonight?"

  OK, at that I had to twist myself round to see how he looked when he'd asked me
that. His pale face almost glowed in the dark, dignified and calm, and I felt a strange tingle break through the constant sick feeling.

  "Because Nan would want me to?" I asked carefully, but he shook his head.

  "No, because I want you to."

  ----------

  Rox's eyes were wide and still slightly red from all the crying he knew she'd done that week, but he didn't see any doubt in them as she nodded.

  He pushed himself round to face her more fully, reaching up with both hands to push back her hair until he was cupping her face.

  What would he have done without her today? Or any of the days that week, come to that?

  She watched him watching her and he saw the exact moment when the last of her tension from his earlier outburst left her. It was replaced by the spark that Nan had been the first to see in this house, a spark that lit up her eyes and made the blood pump faster through his body.

  "So what's next?" She asked with a credible attempt at sounding bored. "Or did you just want to hold my face for a bit?"

  He forced an arrogant smirk to twist his lips and saw her coerce an answering scowl out of her own. They were playing roles, but they played them very well.

  He stroked her cheeks with his thumbs until her lips smoothed, and then leant forward and pressed his mouth to hers.

  He'd meant the kiss to be light; a 'thank you' or 'don't worry' kiss, but as soon as he touched her, his restraint was blown to hell.

  Her mouth was soft, as was her body as she curled herself around him, her thigh against his leg, her breast against his arm. They were both fully clothed, there wasn't even tongue involved in the kiss, but he felt himself tighten so hard and fast it was almost painful.

  He swore against her mouth and felt her lips widen in response, her smile opening her to him and allowing him to change the 'there wasn't even tongue involved' part.

  He dropped his hands from her face, trailing them down her body until they reached the ripped hem of her t-shirt. Rucking the material up, he grabbed her around her now bared waist and pulled her onto his lap. For once in her life she didn't complain about something he'd done, in fact she made a muted noise of approval and tipped her head to take him deeper into her.

  Her scent was gentle, but it still made him dizzy, made him clutch her harder, made him damn near lose his mind.

  Wanting to claw back some tiny semblance of control, he loosened his desperate grip on her, then lightly began to walk his fingers up her spine. When he reached the nape of her neck, he trailed them back down, scraping his nails gently against her skin in a way he remembered made her squirm. Sure enough, she shivered and her thighs tensed against his.

  He was just congratulating himself on a job well done when she suddenly went rigid. The next thing he knew, she'd pulled away, shoving him hard up against the wall at his back so the air was knocked from his lungs.

  "You cheat!" Her tone was accusing, but she looked so cute with her lips all pink and puffy that he couldn't stop himself leaning in to nip at them.

  She allowed him two, maybe three, soft presses of his teeth on her bottom lip, before she pushed him away again.

  "You're using information you've obtained through deceitful means." She put a hand across his mouth, maybe to stop him protesting, maybe to cover any temptation she had to kiss him again. "It's...it's insider trading!"

  It hadn't been very long since she'd used her incomprehensible Rox-speak to talk him down off his own personal ledge. Now, though, it wasn't half as welcome.

  "If I agree," he mumbled against her palm, "even though I have no idea what you're talking about, do I get to kiss you again?" She took her hand away, but he could see what the answer was and he sighed. "Well, it was worth checking."

  "That thing you just did," she mimed the way he'd moved up and down her back, "that seriously turns me on."

  She blushed, but he felt his blood start to head in the opposite direction. God, she was beautiful...and so nuts.

  "Good to know." He would've said more, but the way she wriggled slightly in displeasure at his smartarse response distracted him.

  "But that's the thing, you do know," she poked him in the chest and he wondered how someone could be so grumpy and so bloody hot at the same time. "You know because you obviously did it last time, but I don't remember you doing it so having you suddenly pull one of my favourite moves is just...creepy."

  "Creepy?" He suddenly felt some of the fog from the Rox-induced haze lift and he cringed internally. Having his head clear was not a good thing, it made reality beat against his skull like the worst hangover imaginable.

  "OK," he said, aware, but beyond caring, that there was a hint of desperation in his voice. "I won't pull any moves on you that I remember from before. Nothing that makes you feel good, I promise." He ran a finger across her lips because he already felt that he was losing what they felt like, and it gave him the courage to add, "I'll even throw in some stuff you didn't like if that'll make you feel better."

  Her eyes narrowed as she obviously tried to decide whether or not he was taking the piss.

  "That won't be necessary," she said stiffly. "Just remember that this is basically my first time with you. Don't go ahead and leave me behind."

  He felt himself relax and he smiled in a way he'd forgotten he could. Maybe what they were doing was unhealthy, maybe some people would think it was disrespectful to Nan, but he didn't care. If being with Rox was how he spent Nan's last hours he knew she would consider it the best use of his time.

  Leaning forward he tucked a kiss down just below the collar of Rox's ratty t-shirt, a benediction of her and what she'd done for him.

  "I never leave a girl behind," he told her, keeping his face tucked against her neck so she wouldn't see that his expression didn't match his cocky words.

  "You're all talk, Sinclair," Rox tapped his cheek and he lifted his chin up to see that she was working hard to keep a stern look on her face, "let's see some action."

  Chapter 12 – The Nice Contours and the Grey Dawn

  I'd insulted Elliot's masculinity plenty of times, often to his face, but as he scooped me up in his arms and got to his feet in one fluid movement, there was really no denying his manliness.

  Maybe, then, it was just me playing my corresponding feminine role when I let out a thoroughly girly squeak and clutched at his shoulders. He certainly seemed to enjoy my reaction, my back had barely touched his mattress before he was kissing me again.

  Well, I'd asked for action...

  His lips pressed and pulled, sucked and bit and I clung to him harder and tighter, my position feeling more precarious, and my balance more off, than when he'd been holding me aloft. It was a good precarious, though, and an exhilarating lack of balance. I knew Elliot had hold of me; I was in no danger of falling.

  This thought was a bit off-putting sitting there in all its mushy glory, and I twisted beneath him until one of my legs fell between his. This new position meant I could shift my thigh back and forth against a very interesting spot, and I felt Elliot's shoulder blades tense beneath my hands in response. Straightforward action and reaction, just what I wanted.

  Our fingers plucked at the clothing between us, pulling ineffectually at the flimsy barriers even as we refused to break away to rid ourselves of them. I at last managed to burrow my hands under his shirt, but even as I pressed my palms against the warmth of his skin, I knew that it wasn't enough. It didn't matter that economics told me that restrictions were a part of life, this time I wanted more.

  Elliot was deliciously heavy on top of me, but at the first sign of my hands pushing him back rather than pulling him forward, the heaviness lifted. He held himself off me and looked down questioningly.

  "Clothes...off," I panted in explanation and his face cleared instantly.

  He sat back and, in one quick yank, he'd rid himself of his top. I grinned and then he was reaching down to help me with mine, the poor old t-shirt suffering another tear in our haste.

  My top had barely hi
t the floor before he was lowering himself on top of me again, but I stopped his descent by pressing a palm to his chest. I could feel his heart pulsing beneath his skin, the increased fluttering a natural contrast to the way I'd listened earlier to his breathing slow.

  As soon as I realised that I would've been happy to spend ages just feeling his heart beat, I knew I had to move on. It was action we were after, movements that took us out of ourselves and away from the Nan situation. With this in mind, I walked my fingers down his chest, smiling as I felt each muscle ripple with the contact.

  "Nice contours," I complimented him and he let out a surprised puff of laughter and shook his head so that the infamous flop of hair fell across his eyes.

  I didn't want that, I was getting to kind of enjoy watching his reaction to my wandering fingers , so I reached up with one hand to push it back. The other hand, however, continued on its journey down until it reached the top of his jeans.

  Maybe it was the knowledge that this was technically a 'been there, done that' situation, or maybe it was the lead up that had laid us both bare in a way nudity just couldn't compete with, but I felt no embarrassment. I dipped my hands below his waistband and trailed my fingers over the top of the boxer briefs below without faltering

  I kept my touch light and teasing as I explored, feathering my fingers across the length of him and only stopping to again remark, with a cheeky grin, "Nice contours."

  There was no laugh this time, it seemed like he was using all his energy just holding himself still above me. I could see the muscles stark in his arms from the effort, and, when I resumed my exploration, he released a soft little curse that left me in no doubt of the effect I was having.

  Unbidden, one of Nan's little gems popped into my mind and I could almost hear her cackling 'have a man by his dick, Rox, and you can lead him anywhere'.

  Nan may have been a big part of why we were in the situation we were, but she had no place with us just now, and I stowed her away to the farthest reaches of my brain. I think, given the circumstances, she would have understood why she'd been put on the figurative naughty step of my thoughts.