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Cigarette stuck on the right side of their lips, Jane makes her way up the stairs like she’s had times before. Their thumb hovers over one of the texts April sent,
I need someone. Four hours ago. No follow-through and one of a million like it.
Her stride cuts short once she realizes this is the floor. Regret sits on the small of Jane’s back.
Jane: you seeing this shit? like, is she laced?
Nina: ?? Super concerning!!
Nina: I didn't get these?
Nina: Where is she?
Jane: she said meet her at her apartment ??
Eyes still caught in the glow of her phone, she raps her knuckles against April’s apartment door. Thirty-six minutes ago, Nina and Jane went back and forth on the phone, wrangling the severity of the situation.
Once Nina’s syllables started to catch in her throat, Jane, not before rolling her eyes, could finally see Nina’s side of things.
“April!” Every other door had their own landscapes of sound, all unique to each door number, but not a thing came out of April’s. Something’s starting up at the base of their stomach—another drag from a parliament to put the sensation out before they knock again.
“April? It’s Jane—wanted to see if you’re good or not!”
Jane catches herself twisting the knob when the door clicks and gives way to abject darkness. Notes of aughties-bred vanilla rush Jane’s senses as soon as she makes her way into the apartment.
“Hello?” Her eyes scan the labyrinth of pitch-black for any chance of going home in five minutes.
Moaning, hushed, trickles in from somewhere nearer yet still far off. It surges in Jane’s ear. The city’s play of light trickles in from April’s window, illuminating the hall, beckoning a little.
“About ready to lose my shit.”
Outlines of—what Jane can only pray is April dance on its back. The moans are undeniably ones of pleasure now. Accords of sweat and pheromones start clashing with the vanilla. Jane’s cheeks seer hot, and it’s as if her chest’s threatening to cave in on itself. A supercut of every far-off interaction they have beams in her mind.
It's all too much for her. In the heat of a frenzied fit, Jane switches the lights on.
Light sweeps the room. Jane doesn’t even notice that her jaw is agape. “Oh my God,” the whisper swells into a yell. “You're fine—fuck!”
Twines of black hair cling to April’s cheeks, face sodden. It could be tears, it could be sweat. Could very well be cum. If anything would justify using the word “febrile,” it would be her face. Blown-out pupils, rings of skin hollowed under them, it all lightens into a giggle. Skin flushed and lips swollen. “Hi, oh my God!”
Not skipping a single beat, April continues to fuck her toy.
“Jane,” April manages to stretch out one sound into a thousand sticky syllables. “I, I can’t stop, I’m… so, so, sorry.”
“None of this shit is funny,” Jane bellows.“April, people— Nina and I—you know, your friends, were worried about you!”
‘Your friends’ came out of Jane’s mouth strangely.
“That means…” “You told her,”
“So what?”
“You did?”
“Literally so what if I did?”
“Mm,” The bass in April’s voice scratches. “‘Cause it was supposed to be between us?”
Soles of Jane’s boots sink into the hardwood.
They leafed through a Rolodex of justification to explain why they can’t lift a sole. But under the coil of heat sitting in her stomach, she was ridiculously hard.
Jane soldiers through it. “I mean, you couldn’t just ask for dick outright?”
“Well,” April tilts her head and fills her cheeks with air. “Now that you’ve got me all figured out, I’m gonna need an answer.”
“Absolutely fucking not.”
The cut between them gets shorter. April’s brow goes dog-eared, her shoulders pull forward, and her smile unfurls.
Arousal and fear send skips instead of rushes of blood everywhere in Jane’s body. They know what's coming.
Patience thin with cues, April’s snatches Jane’s belt off of their waist. Watching April’s face lose all warmth, watching the clothing peel off her and the articles mounting each other on the way down.
She grips Jane, resting her chin on their shoulder, and runs her fingers along their dick.
Making futile, little attempts to push April away with the lean of her hips, “Too much, fuck,”
April is an automaton. Little jumps and gasps to prove she’s alive, because the rise and fall of her chest is so shallow.
“Fuck—no, no— I’m cumming, I'm gonna cum.”
They clutch one another.
Jane’s pointer and pinky twitch.
Some time later, a hypnagogic jerk reminds April to wipe Jane’s cum on whatever surface.
It's quiet.
Jane wades in the silence with April, waiting to sink deeper into it. April’s fresh French tips bite the small of Jane’s back.
April sauntered back into her room, eyes kept as light as soot and her smile wide. Back to the counter, arms crossed, Jane stays behind, watches.
Hesitant, Jane runs one, two, all fingers across her own breasts. The pang in her stomach could've been hurt, or hunger, but her train of thought didn't care to dissect any of it. She thought about how talkative the Lyft driver will probably be for the ride home. What lies to tell Nina and how to naturally make the wedge between the three without hurting anyone.
Then Jane opens her eyes. She finds April’s. The instant Jane unhinges her jaw, five fingers vise-grip her throat shut. April’s lips part to the rhythm of Jane’s struggle as she follows her down to the tile.
Then suddenly, April releases, and when Jane gurgles and chokes on the air she’s desperately trying to drip feed into her lungs, she hits her head on the dishwasher.
Head hung low, hair cascading alongside it, April shudders, moaning to herself. Jane’s gaze dares to move, and she notices the mess April’s making of herself. Writhing on the floor like earlier, reaching to touch the source of the mess, but reeling her hand back as if it would burn her.
Jane, as per usual, is wondering why she’s enjoying this.
A melody cuts the taut air. So does the vibration. Nina, Jane immediately thinks to herself.
Even so, as they watch her phone throw a tantrum across the floor, they can't bring themselves to answer.
Something about Nina’s smile filling the screen makes the heat pooling in their stomach incandescent.
As the ringtone stretches, April sits up and lays her gaze on Jane. Jane thinks about how narrow her world has been for the last 34 minutes. How she’d love to pick up the phone, confide in someone whose instincts don’t include bloody facefucking. But they’re pinned to the floor.
April reaches over and picks up for them. Immediately put on speakerphone.
From far off, Nina yells out. “Oh my God, oh God—she picked up!” Her voice rushes to the mic. “April?”
“Nina!”
“Apriiiil! You alright? Is Jane over there with you?”
“Right across from me, yeah!”
“Well, fuck me dead, what happened even?”
“Bad reaction to something I smoked… like…at a party.”
“Yeah. Yeah, nah, I mean… me and Jane were just talking about other people’s party favors,” Nina goes on, but neither Jane or April follow. “Well. Ok! I hope everything stays okay. Assume you two are hanging out, so I’ll just leave you two to it, yeah?”
“Yeah!”
The phone call ends. April lets out a sharp exhale, puts the phone on the ground, and glides it back to Jane.
Then Jane connects a left hook straight to April’s nose. “The fuck is your issue, bitch?” The hit is crisp, letting off a crack that hits all four walls of the apartment. A little bood dribbles from April’s nose.
The moment it passes her cupid’s bow, April pins Jane to the floor with a disconcerting lack of effort. Loosing themselves in the scuffle, Jane squeezes their eyes shut. Then something pushes past their lips, past teir teeth. It burns under the roof of her mouth, lading warmth down their throat. In its wake, it leaves this aftertaste of a saccharine kind of iron.
All of the stimuli forces Jane’s eyes open, finding their nose pressed against April’s stomach. Her knuckles clutch their hair, ensuring they swallow her whole.
For a good 8 minutes, April fucks Jane’s face. Then a stammer grows in April’s pace.
She pulls every inch of herself out of Jane’s mouth, slow enough so they would gag as hard as they are right now.
Tears sting Jane’s eyes as she wipes pre-cum, blood, and froth from the sides of their face. They grimace at the tent they've pitched.
Not that April registers the concept of consent or confirmation at this point, but in a better world, that would have been all she needed.
“Say something,” Jane’s eyes shimmer with tears. “Fuck, say something! Why are you acting this way?!”
“I don’t know,” The bass in April’s voice dips mid-sentence.
Jane hangs her head. “I’m so fucking disgusting,”
“You’re a pretty girl, Jane,” She says it with as much conviction as her body will let her. “You can’t be disgusting. You’re so, so pretty.”
Jane closes their eyes. They didn't expect April to hear that.
Something in Jane reels back to April, her cadence. Trying to put brass tacks on what she thought was the ‘real’ April.
“Do you wanna see something actually disgusting?” She interlocks one of her hands with Jane’s and escorts her to her bedroom.
The miasma of Victoria's Secret body mist and semen has ripened. Jane doesn’t notice anything at first, just a mildly messy room. Then the byway of condoms, all used and thoroughly so.
The toys. A mounts of them. All torn asunder from their packages, all with evidence that they’ve been used. Jane is speechless.
“I could try to explain,” April starts, hoarse, the ‘I’ in the sentence barely shows. “I could try, but I don't think it would even… encompass everything I’m feeling right now. I don’t even really know how this started.”
“Nina really doesn't need to see this side of me.”
With the little audacity Jane has left, “I do, though?”
“Mm, I guess,” April shrugs, smiling big. “I mean, if anyone had to see me in the state I’m in… rather it be you.”
That sentence hangs over them.
The feeling of desperation overrides any pride Jane had, but she knows she can’t say yes. Not immediately. But God, she’s so hard.
April draws closer, lips swollen. “You're familiar. ‘n honestly, that's what I need right now.”
Jane’s body buckles under the weight of April’s seduction, oozing need—want. And April reads it. She tosses Jane onto the bed. Rough, but not malicious.
April’s head is heavy and delicate all at once. Edges of her vision blurred; hands were pale and trembling.
A white light flashes as she strokes herself, and suddenly she’s already inside of Jane, gnawing at her neck, bucking her hips like all get out.
She can barely register anything she’s doing. She knows every time her cock hits Jane’s insides, it feels like unadulterated heaven. Like making love with a fist lined in satin. She knows that with every pull of her hips, whimpers and gasps and pleas reverberate underneath; all she can see are those flashes of white light.
April is lost in sensation. Relief, warm and wet, wet, her tremors, their squirming, how humid they stick together. Each pulse sends her a deluge of relief.
Jane’s skull is buzzing with adrenaline, but they’re taking in everything. They’re gripping April’s hips, trying to match the same bite her French tips gave them before—the roll of her hips would stop them. They fall behind trying to catch up to April’s rhythm, her hunger too. She’s inscrutable.
“April?” Syllables syncopated with each thrust, Jane barely gets the name out.
April responds in kind with a whimper.
“April!” This one cuts through the haze, immediately pulling April out of it. She doesn’t stop, but she can feel the back of her ears heat up.
The two catch each other’s eyes. She seals her’s with a wince.
Then, “Ohmigod—shut up!” April whines. “Shut up, shut up, shut—“ Her thrusts shoal, jerking instead of driving. It's all Jane’s fault.
White light scuttles away. Through her hair, April can see Jane barely stroking herself, eyes glossed over with tears unshed.
April runs herself deeper into Jane. “I, I’m gonna breed you, okay?” She whispers into their ear, weaseling herself even further in.
Jane tries to respond, “A—“ but April’s fingers pacify Jane. Her nails scrape across the roof of their mouth, nicking tastebuds on the way.
“Stop talking. You weren’t talking before, don’t fucking talk now.” April’s command makes Jane go completely limp.
Color on Jane’s face runs cold in spite of the fact they were was broiling in desire and a touch of anxiety.
Something runs up April’s back, sending new blood to her dick. She bites her bottom lip.
“Appreciate it,” April coos. Almost sweet.
Jane’s chest freezes as April drives into them again, with more cruelty, more precision. She gnaws at their ear, sputtering something incoherent in hot breaths. Each ‘word’ sends flush throughout Jane’s body. And when she was finished preaching, she would watch Jane’s lips part, watch them cover their eyes with their arms crossed in an X.
Letting out a huff and tearing the barricade down, she grunts. “Let me see!” Though, the little lift of her smirk makes Jane smile for a second, too.
“You're so tight around me,” April croons. “You see why I can't help myself?”
Jane catches herself mid-nod and freezes in horror. But almost as if God settled the score, April’s face distorts at every point, her thrusts go shallow and quick again. She's close.
April can't stifle anything spilling out of her mouth. It's animalistic. It's pure. She smashes her teeth, her lips into Jane’s, headbutting them in the process. The kiss is so wet, so tender that it runs a shudder through them simultaneously.
Their breasts press against the other, the synchronized rise and fall of both of their chests.
April peels herself off of Jane, not saying a word. She trails the absolute tips of her fingers about Jane’s stomach. Walks her touch from their pelvis to the shaft of their dick, pressing the slit with her thumb as precum leaks from the tip. “I’m such an ass,” She whines under her breath. “Didn't even get you off.”
A gust of her air teased their cock, the only warning before she devoured it down to the base. She presses her fingers inside of Jane, using her own cum as lubricant.
Jane then made peace with the fact that this night wouldn't have an end.