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Party Pooper

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"So this is what she reads when she decides to stay home," Jack muttered, amusement hanging on his tongue, as he held that silly perverted book in his hands.

"Well, that's disappointing," Alex chuckled, giving a 'I'm not that surprised' roll of his shoulders. He was peeking over Jack's shoulder, reading off of a page he randomly flipped to. "Good god, this is dirty for a book."

"Have you not passed the romance section in a book store?"

"Well, yeah, but I never pay any attention to it."

"Why not? It's like a section dedicated to the art of picking up chicks. Weird ones, fat ones, tiny ones, but they're all chicks, so whatever," Jack explained, flipping to the next page.

"Do you think she's gonna go to the party with us later?"


"And if she doesn't?"

There was a silence, and as they turned to face each other, grins spreading across their faces, the front door cracked and swung wide open, with you wiping your feet off on the matt. It was snowy outside, with it being winter and all, and you were just getting home from your day job up the street. The two watched you as you clumsily slipped off your boots and wandered into the kitchen, probably off to get one of your favorite little yogurt drinks. Jack closed your book and set it back on the black shelf in your living room.

Alex had to cover his mouth to muffle his giggling. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he whispered.

"Dude, she's our best friend, you fucking weirdo." A short pause. "But... did you see those hips?"

"See? Now stay on this bandwagon. And yes, I did. Now, did you see that ass?"

"Perfe-ction," Jack sang as softly as he could, listening to you fumble around in the kitchen.

"And those breasts?"

"I can't believe you used that word. Titties, Alex. Titties."

"But I like breasts."

"Titties!" Jack exclaimed, throwing his hands up.


"I will END you!"

You cleared your throat, knowing full well the stupidity you just walked into, strawberry-banana yogurt drink in tow. And you held onto it tightly, thoroughly confused as to why Alex and Jack were arguing over the usage of the words 'breasts' and 'titties'. You eventually scoffed when they turned to look at you and you made sure to keep your eyes down. Admittedly, since you were children, you'd had crushes on both of the boys at different times, multiple times, and you weren't sure why you'd let them back into your house after multiple failed attempts at showing your affection for either. Every time they'd have to say no because of commitment issues - though, you weren't asking for commitment - or because they just didn't know what to do. They did right by you by giving proper reasons, and you respected them for that, even thanked them. But you were still a little nervous about them being here. You wanted them, but they really didn't want you. And they seemed to have forgotten it all.

"Hey, Kat," Jack greeted you warmly, cracking a grin.

You nodded to him.

"Hey, pretty lady," Alex cooed.

"I'm not up for either of your shenanigans so can you please not start with me?" you grumbled. You really didn't want to have to deal with them, especially when your feelings for them both were beginning to burn again. Rekindled feelings were so difficult to deal with, and you hated it.
They didn't say anything and you worked your way passed them, plucking your latest book interest off of the shelf.

"Well, would you like to go to a party with us?" Alex asked, looming over you like a cat does its dead prey.

"No." You flipped your book open to the spot you marked it.

"C'mon, please? You never go out anymore," Jack pouted, crossing his arms like a child.

"No. I don't care." And you started reading, taking in every dirty word like it was fucking scripture. Feelings be damned.

"God, you're so boring," Jack muttered, glaring at you with both disappointment and - almost - sadness.

Alex smacked his arm.

Out of the two, you respected Alex the most. He was less of a child and more polite, though he did have his days. He could be less of a prick than Jack all day long, that didn't change the fact that he was most definitely the biggest horndog you'd ever met - well, other than Jack, of course. He never hinted at wanting you, though, so his vulgar language confused you half the time. Jack was the more sensitive one. He threw fits when he didn't get his way sometimes and he'd get very personal when it comes to fights. And he was far more vulgar than Alex, and he wasn't afraid to show anyone anything. Especially when he was drunk. Sadly, you'd seen the brunt of it, as he'd often stumble over to your house when the bartenders cut him off.

Good lord, was he hung.

You had to stop yourself and shake your head. Go back to focusing on your reading.

"Hey, Kat?"

You didn't respond.



And your book was torn from your hands, two hands on your cheeks pulling you to look at one or both of the boys you. You gasped first, but then quickly realized that they were toying with you again and you glared at them both. Well, that is until Alex climbed over you with his eyes firmly staring into yours. And, for the first time in a very long time, you blushed, at which Alex grinned.

"Jack, tell the boys we're gonna be late." He kissed you, his lips soft and gentle against your own. You were confused to say the least, but this was likely the only time this would ever happen, so you kissed him back, his tongue prodding at the entrance of your mouth.

A chuckle and Jack was gone, off to do Alex's bidding.

But you didn't care. The feeling in your gut was hot and uncalled for, your tongues writhing together like worms in distress. Okay, you were being very sloppy for... experienced individuals. His hands wound your hair around them and he pulled your head back, grinning at you and staring you down with those deep brown eyes of his. Your skin was hot and your heart was beating too hard, waiting for him to kiss you again. Or fuck you. Both were optimal. You were pretty sure you wanted him to fuck you, though.

"Ah, Kat," he huffed, grin intact, easily switching positions and pulling you into his lap instead. And, without hesitation or a care in the world that Jack re-entered the living room, he crashed his face into yours, your lips sore from the contact. Your breathing was uneven and heavy, and you could hardly understand what was going on, but sweet Jesus. More was in order. The fire in your belly and in your heart was raging, threatening to consume you mercilessly. You kissed Alex as roughly as you could to match his pace, his grip on your hair tightening. Oh, how the shivers ran down your spine. You knew Jack was behind you and you paid great deals of attention to the butterfly kisses on the nape of your neck after a calloused hand brushed your hair away.

But he kissed you softly there, nibbling once every so often while he played with the ends of your shirt, Alex's tongue luring you away from Jack's romantic ministrations. A heated spike arose on your belly and you almost moaned, Alex's hands tugging on your hair and Jack's at your shirt. Part of you wanted to pull away from the boys, to ask what had gotten into them, but the part wanted to ride it through, to fuck until morning and you didn't care who saw. Not even your own mother. Your breathing was labored and their hands were everywhere; in your hair, tearing at your clothes, rubbing sensitive spots; and their teeth and lips had moves from one set of spots to another, roaming your neck and shoulders, cheeks and hips.

Your womanhood tingled, and you did everything you possibly could to keep yourself from squealing.

Jack - and you knew it was him because he was a roughy - latched onto your shirt and tore it up the seams, the sounds of which sending chills across your scalp and right down your spine. The very sound of the fabric tearing in your ears made your heart race and your blood boil, waiting for them to do with you what they will. After all, how could you not let them if this is the one thing you wanted all along? His hands found your bra straps, fingers twirling and lightly snapping them, and he quickly unlatched it, Alex pulling it down and around your wrists. You weren't quite sure how he could tie such a thing around your wrists, but it was quite possibly the hottest thing you could ever witness; Alex and Jack working together to undress you and treat you to what you assumed was going to me a lovely night of pure kink and pleasure.

But your heart broke at the sudden idea that it was meaningless.

You really wanted their affections, be they sexual or emotional. Really, you just wanted to be loved. You wanted to have someone to come home to, to cook for, clean for, have silly fights with, and take warm showers with. You wanted to be loved the way you were willing to love. And the harder your heart beat because of their teasing and preparations, the harder and harder the pieces of it fell. The hotter your face got, the tighter that coil became in your belly, the hornier you got (and let's face it, honey, you're horny), the less and less you were sure you wanted things to be the way they were now.

You wanted to yell at them to stop, because this wasn't fair to you.

But when Jack pulled you off of Alex by a handful of your hair, that familiar shock flooded through you and you hit the floor hard, grunting from slight pain. He pulled you a little further, giving you little time to recover, and pinned your tied hands above your head, Alex eagerly sliding from the couch and unbuttoning your jeans.

You didn't move. You hardly reacted, letting them have all the control, until they struck you in a spot that gave you fire. How could you not let them? Who in their right mind would?

Your eyes fell upon Jack's and he smiled at you, hovering above you shirtless and mischievous. Alex lifted your ass, stealing your panties along with your jeans, and it hit you. It really hit you.

Childhood friends were about to fuck, have sex, make love - whatever you want to call it. were scared. So you told the biggest lie you possibly could.

"I don't want to do this."

With that, the childlike glee left their faces and they dressed you properly, fixing your hair and making sure everything was in order. They wrapped you in their arms and lifted you to the couch, Alex going off to search for blankets and Jack finding your yogurt drink, opening it, and giving it to you. He picked your book up off the floor and placed it in your lap, planting a warm kiss upon your forehead and disappearing into the hallway. Alex returned with apologies in his eyes and the blanket the band had given you years ago. He leaned over you, tucking it behind and under you, leaving you with an apologetic kiss to your cheek.

You peeked over his shoulder before he shrunk away, spotting Jack in the doorway of the hall. You'd never seen such a bittersweet look on his face. It stung.

And then they were gone, their voices striking up conversation as they meandered down your driveway.

"I think we should only do things like that if she asks us to." Jack.

"Yeah." A pause. "God, I feel like a pig."

"Well, we both do, at least."

You closed your eyes as their voices faded and your chest fluttered with happiness.