Hornet's Nest Ch. 03

He almost failed at stifling more chuckling. I couldn't be bothered with cleaning up, but he searched for his discarded boxers, made a half-hearted attempt, then collapsed beside me.

"The light," he grunted. I grunted back. He moved a little, throwing off the duvet, but I stopped him.

"I got this." I threw one of his scrunched socks, which missed, but the second scored a nice hit on the lightswitch. Darkness.

He nearly guffawed, silhouette of his arm reaching up as his hand must have gone to his forehead. "Holy shit. Amazing." He reached around me and rolled into me. His nose pressed into my cheek and I pulled up the duvet again. There was a little bit of fidgeting, snuggling, getting comfortable. It had been quite an active night. Sleep was good. Sleep was very good.

His body felt good.

This was good.

*

A fist hammered against the door. Repetitive loud knocks. "Dave. Dave."

A low growl vibrated in the throat of the body next to me.

"Dave," Wesley's voice continued, hitting the door again.

David's answer startled me to consciousness, right by my ear. "What?!"

"Checkin' you even came home last night. Why's door locked?"

"Vi's here."

"Oh. Well done, mate."

David sighed, I managed a snicker. "Fuck off, Wes."

Wesley's laughter faded down the hallway and David rolled over beside me, burying his face into the pillow. "He is, like, my morning rooster," he grumbled. "Since forever."

I tried to judge what time it was by the light coming through the window blind. It was a grey day. "Chirpy morning person?"

"Yes. Yes, that is the perfect description."

He was hogging all the bed space. I retreated from the edge and pressed into him with the intent of making him move, but he practically enveloped me instead. I don't know if it was a bear hug or spooning. He breathed against the back of my head while one of his hands stroked up and down my front. It stopped to feel a tit, gently tweaking the nipple between his fingers.

"You have an amazing body," he mumbled.

I reached a hand back to pat his arse. "I quite like yours." I was turning over to kiss him when there was hammering at the door again.

"For fuck sake, Wes!"

"Mate, it's like twelve! Get the fuck out of bed!"

"Jesus fucking Christ." The mattress bounced with the surge David took to get out from the duvet, tear open a drawer, and hop towards the door while pulling the boxers on. He opened it no wider than his shoulders. "The fuck do you want?"

"Do you want bacon?"

He chuckled. "Wes."

"Yeah, you think I'm being a dick, and I'm just being considerate."

"Yeah, okay, whatever. Make me a toastie."

"No, I'm cooking the bacon, you make your own damn toastie."

"Is bathroom free?"

"Yeah."

There was another passing voice down the hallway. "Someone got laid last night."

"Mate," Wesley said.

David shut the door and turned back to me. "You gonna shower with me?"

I grunted. Honestly, I'd have liked to stay in bed for another three hours. I pulled the duvet higher up but he laughed, yanked it off, and scooped me up, all while I swore and struggled. I collected some clothes in my drowsy state and let him lead me down to the bathroom.

Apparently we didn't get along in the shower. Too much fighting over the spray and pushing and shoving where David slipped over, banging his head and roaring with laughter. That, and how cold it was, got me awake nice and fast.

"You're too big," I said once he had me pinned between the tiles and his chest. There wasn't room for his shoulders and my head. Apparently he didn't care as he held me there and kissed me.

I convinced him to leave so I could finish up by myself. I've never particularly liked showers - they're something I do fast, and in winter they're the worst. I've never been fond of water. I don't like it getting in my eyes, in my ears, up my nose. And if I get shampoo in my eyes I will have a very, very bad day.

Speaking of which, I stole a shampoo bottle from a female roommate to do something with my hair. One of those scented, fruity ones. Bad idea. Now my theft was an obvious smell. They wouldn't miss one squeeze, would they?

The towel was too small, the bathroom was too cold. Did they not have heating? The fucking window was open. Who opens the window during winter?

So many goosebumps. I was leaving the bathroom in bra and towel, clothes over my arm, when I bumped into that blonde girl in the hallway. Melissa. I remembered her. She startled, took one glance over me, then embarrassment hit her expression. "Sorry," she said, ducking past me to her room. Did she smell her shampoo on me? I hoped not, there was that bacon smell permeating the entire flat that should have disguised me.

David wasn't dressed yet. He was sitting at his desk in his boxers, posed like some Greek statue as he read something on his laptop.

"Oh, God," I said. "Is that more science?" I saw a cluster of numbers in a familiar equation and it was all I needed. "Put it away, for fuck sake."

"I actually hate this stuff," he replied.

"So do I. Why are we taking it?"

He chuckled and looked around at me. His eyes softened with an expression I almost couldn't understand. Adoration, affection. If he stared at me like that I'd feel like a goddess.

"What's wrong?" I asked. "You wanting to fit in a quickie before bacon?"

"What? No." He reached out to brush his fingers over my stomach, then pulled away the towel and stroked his hands down my hips, tugging me closer.

"Do you want me shaved?" I asked. "Or is trimmed like this good?"

"What?" His eyes moved up from the fork of my legs. "No, this is... this is fine." He looked so confused by the question, and his confusion confused me. Honestly, a lot about him could confuse me. He wanted to see me naked right then, but wasn't interested in having sex? I felt a sudden need to get dressed.

"Can I borrow some of your boxers?"

His brow furrowed even more. "As if they'll fit you."

"My pants are a mess." I sifted through that same drawer I'd seen him go through, searching for whatever underwear had the tightest waistband. Then I went through another drawer. T-shirts. I put one of them on, too.

"Oh my God," he chuckled. "Vi."

"What?"

He chased me away from his clothes to find something for himself, and I finished dressing with my own tracksuits. There were interesting things about his room that I wanted to explore. He made just enough effort to be tidy, but whatever scruff there was caught my interest. His wallet was in the open on the desk. I could start with that.

"Oh, nice," I said, pulling out his driver's license. "Where's your car?"

"Don't have one."

"Why?"

"It was part of the deal with my parents."

"What?"

"It was either a car, or they cover rent."

"So you chose a slightly bigger flat over a car?"

He grinned and shrugged. "I'm never gonna have a loan to worry about when I graduate."

I looked back down at the license. The little square picture was surprisingly photogenic. "Yeah. Lucky for some." Everything else in the wallet was boring by comparison. He seemed to be purely cards. No cash. "Wes has a license too?"

"He can drive, he has to do his exams." David took the wallet out of my hands, dumped it back on the desk, and dragged me out by my wrist.

I didn't know the names of all his flatmates yet, but I knew Adrian, who clapped and hooted when I appeared beside David in the lounge area. David said everything he needed to with a simple look and didn't even open his mouth. He cared more about the kitchen.

The TV was on. I tucked damp hair behind my ear and watched the moving colours, but wasn't really paying attention. Then something snapped David's eyes to it, like some name mentioned was someone he knew. He scowled at it for a few seconds, before looking to Wesley.

"What is it this time?"

Wesley gave a flippant nod of his head in the TV's direction. "Darren's giving money away again."

"Wow, what a prick."

"I know, right?"

They were being sarcastic and I didn't understand. I bothered to listen to the TV and focus on the images. It was some sort of midday news, with a complicated economics discussion.

"Claire," Adrian said. "Can we change channel?"

"No," she replied.

"This is boring."

"It helps with my studies. I'm watching this."

A third guy was watching almost as intently as Claire was. David put a plate with a toastie into my hands and we joined them on the sofas. I tried to follow what the news story was about, but it was difficult. Maybe not coming in halfway through would've helped.

It didn't take long until this other guy, Myles, was arguing with Claire about it. They took the different sides of what they were watching. Both David and Wesley watched the whole thing unfold like it was some massive inside joke I couldn't hope to understand.

"It's this fucking Sörensen guy," Myles said. "He's got his fingers in about every pie now."

"Are you being fucking serious?" Claire retorted. "You honestly think him donating to charity is a bad thing?"

"It's not the act, it's the way everybody goes about it. It's just a media stunt."

"No, it's not. Don't you think he would accept interviews if it was?"

"Maybe getting blood thrown over him was enough to scare him off ever going on TV again."

That rang a weird bell.

Claire scowled at Myles like she wanted to rip his throat out. "I can't believe you actually think like this. You're the reason there's people starving in this country."

"Fuck off. As if you fucking care. Shit like this guy is doing doesn't fix anything, it just makes it worse. Fuck sake, he's a fag too."

"No, he's not. That was a media stunt, trying to make him look bad in the public eye."

"No," David interrupted, like some referee. "He is gay."

"No he's not," Claire replied.

"Trust me. He's very gay."

She glared at David, as if he was siding with Myles against her. "And you know this?"

"Yep."

"You're just as bad," she said, with an added scoff. "Believe everything you see on TV."

Wesley was shaking his head. He and David exchanged some quick looks.

"Claire. He's our uncle."

There was a silence. Both Myles and Claire scowled at David, but he'd had a little too much blunt conviction in his tone to have been joking.

"You're having a laugh," Myles declared.

"Nope."

He looked back at the TV, uncomfortable. Wesley picked up on it - "Yeah, oops, huh?"

"Sorry, man," Myles mumbled.

Claire still seemed quite shocked by this revelation, and David chuckled at her face.

"I'm sure he appreciates you sticking up for him, but he's quite fine on his own."

I felt like something had just, once again, gone over my head. David and Wesley had some sort of rich and famous uncle? I wasn't even the slightest bit surprised, but these other rich kids were. I'd be asking questions to know more, but not right then. I'd feel an idiot, the only one who didn't know what this conversation was actually about.

In my defence, Adrian didn't seem to have any idea, or care either, staring down at his phone during the whole thing.

I sat nice and quiet, eating my toastie, observing everything in my usual manner.

The TV moved on to other things, and eventually so did the conversation. Claire announced that she'd gotten herself a job at a restaurant, and Adrian's head snapped up.

"That's only because you've got such massive tits," he said. "Fuck sake. Bet all you had to do was unbutton your shirt at the interview, huh?"

"You're such a dick, Adrian."

"But it's true! The fuck are us guys supposed to do to get a job?"

"Not my problem." She cupped her tits and gave them a bounce. "If these can get me a job with super good, flexible hours, then I'm not complaining."

At some point David looked down at me, as if concerned that I was so quiet, but I gave him a simple smile and snuggled against his side. I was perfectly content that nobody spoke to me. Claire seemed oblivious to my presence. Myles only gave me a couple of cautious looks, always averting his gaze if I tried to make eye contact. Sometimes I really did wonder if I had something printed on my forehead to say that I was different. That I was not 'People Like Us'.

When Claire and Myles kicked off again David decided that was the time to go, tugging my hand and leading me back to his room. "Do you have any roommates as bad as that?" he asked once the door was shut.

"Not really. I don't know. I'm not there much, and everybody leaves me alone anyways."

"Yeah?"

"Other than when they want me to get them drugs."

He tossed me a grin, flicking at the touchpad of his laptop. I started wandering and exploring the room without really thinking about it, sifting through drawers, looking around his desk. He watched me in silence.

"Do you have OCD or something?"

I frowned at him. "No."

"Then you're nosey."

"Yeah." He had a really nice, expensive fountain pen, and I turned it in my fingers. "Do you actually write with this? Can you do that weird writing? What's it called?"

"Calligraphy?" He took the pen off me and put it back where it belonged, then looked at me, and chuckled. "You're cute, Vi."

"I just want to know things."

"I know." He tugged me towards his bed, sitting and pulling me onto his lap.

"What's the big deal with this Sörensen guy?" I asked.

"Nothing. Nothing is the big deal. He was targeted by protesters a while back and now the media never leaves him alone."

He sounded touchy about it. I almost decided not to ask further questions. "He's your uncle?"

There was a pause of silence where David blinked at the floor. "He's not actually blood related. He's just been my mum's friend since forever."

He didn't want to talk about it, that much was obvious. I thought I was beginning to understand - David was a rich kid trying to pretend he wasn't rich. It seemed a strange thing, yet at the same time, made sense. I mean, being rich drew attention. Drew harassment. Got buckets of blood thrown over you.

*

For a couple of weeks things became strangely routine. University work had a way of monopolising my time. I cared about my grades, so I put the effort in. Wesley sat with me more and more during social science, and we debated endlessly on topics. The things covered, that I was learning, were as intensely interesting as I'd hoped.

Physics, on the other hand... I was glad I had David with me through it. I was struggling. There was too much maths that switched my brain off. As soon as something was fun, our professor managed to make it boring again. David was hardly enjoying it either, but he remembered key details better than I did.

I was ranting one time about how ridiculous I thought something was, but it only made him laugh. "Yeah, question everything. That's why you'd make a good scientist, Vi."

It was a strange compliment. Like he'd been taking the piss, but genuine at the same time.

I didn't know. I didn't see myself doing anything in the field of physics once I graduated. I had no idea what I saw myself doing, but I tried not to think thoughts like that. One thing at a time.

I shouldn't have been complaining, anyways. David had an even bigger workload than me, and was already talking about dropping chemistry. He could look so exhausted sometimes.

Or maybe that was because I kept taking him running, and kept him up half the night with sex.

He seemed an unusual mix of brains and brawn. Of course I kept taking him running. His stamina improved fast, and I was impatient to move on to the more intense things. I wanted him to do parkour with me, because it was my thing, and I wanted to share it. I was sure he could do it.

And the sex, well. He was very interested in exploring my body by himself, and didn't need too much coaching with that.

Maybe it was just because he was so nice to look at, that I wanted to keep him around all the time. But it was more than that. I really did like him. I hadn't known someone who made me feel so comfortable after knowing them for what was, realistically, such a short amount of time.

What was it? He was... nice. Wow, was that it? All I could come up with?

Weren't nice guys supposed to be losers?

Honestly, in a very short time I was becoming so used to having company around, that when David told me he and Wesley were going home for a few days for Halloween, I suddenly didn't know what to do with myself.

I went down to the train station with them, waiting in the cold, and David gave me an adorable goodbye kiss.

"Just a few days," he promised. "We got a lil' sister who will kill us otherwise."

"Mm-hm," I agreed, patting his chest. He gave me another peck before getting on the train.

I went running alone that night, and still had urges to check over my shoulder, even though I knew full well that he wasn't there. My bed seemed so spacious. Where was his body stealing the covers, but giving me his warmth to make up for it?

Damn. When did I get so attached?

It was almost uncanny how, the next day, my mother called. As if she just sensed my sudden loneliness across the distance.

"How's it going?" her familiar voice asked. At first I was suspicious that there might be more reason to her call than just checking up on me, but she didn't give any clues.

"Pretty good," I replied, before giving a long-winded explanation of what university was like for me. She laughed through it.

"I guess if they keep you busy, you're being good."

"I'm always good, Mum."

"Right. So are you dressing slutty tomorrow and getting pissed out of your mind?"

"No, fuck that. I'm gonna be a good girl, and sit at home writing more on my project all night."

"Right," she drawled.

"Fuck you," I chuckled. "I don't do that anymore."

"You never should've been doing it in the first place. Are you telling me, that as soon as you reach legal drinking age, you've gone sober?"

"Shut up, Mum. I have a boyfriend, anyways. And he doesn't drink."

"Oh, really?"

"Mm-hm."

"Want to tell me about him?"

"Well, he's in my physics class. He's like, six foot. Green eyes, black hair."

"Got a picture?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Fuck sake, Mum. Fine, I'll get him to pose for a picture, just for you. Shall I make sure he's topless too, so you can see his six-pack?"

"Sounds like you're doing well for yourself."

I switched the phone to my other ear. "Mm-hm. And one more thing. He's rich."

"Well done, child. How rich? Is he an upper-class ponce?"

"No, no he's nothing like that. I mean some people here, sure, but not him. He has, like, that rugged charm, y'know?"

"Oh, like your father?"

"No, Mum. Don't do that. That's weird."

She laughed into my ear. "You know I tease. I'm proud of you, Vi."

I probably had a grin far too big for my face. I switched the phone to my other ear again. I always had to fidget during faceless conversations. "How're things for you two, anyways?"

"We're fine."

"Yeah, seriously?"

"Yes," she said, with that tone.

"Where are you now?" I asked.

"At the moment, Basingstoke."

"And where will you be around Christmas?"

"Probably still Basingstoke. I'll be in contact again if we move. And Romain can always get you to us if need be."

"Yeah... I know he's just here 'cause he feels like he has to watch me."

"He can stay in any fucking town he wants, if it's on network, Vi."

"I know, but this is obviously on purpose."

"He cares about you."

"We're over."

"Obviously."

There was an awkward pause.

"Think you're gonna last with this new boy?" Mum asked.

"I don't know. I don't think like that."

"Treat him right and I don't see why you'll have any problems."

The phonecall ended shortly after, on a lower note. I guess I stopped it before there was any chance of a lecture from my mother. I didn't need to hear her, once again, talk about how socially inept I was, and how she just didn't understand why I couldn't learn from mistakes.