Friday, April 30, 2010

5. … Oh Shit…

Ok some things needed to be added to this post... mainly some extras for your listening, viewing and reading pleasure.
I saw this on TV last night and a reader was kind enough to link it for everyone else to enjoy... I mean really... do you need more reason to love Brooks?

Also, I know we all love the Bromance and who doesn't want to watch a video about it? Oh and of course... the same place from Brook's POV

Lastly... I found this on google last night and the first thing that came into my head, was after the wedding when the bride and groom feed each other the cake lol.

And now onto the story...

“I can’t believe I have a baby…” Brooks sighed as he stood in front of the kitchen window, his daughter resting against his chest.

“I can’t believe she’s this cute!” Mike laughed, borderline giddiness as he stood beside Brooks, his finger tracing Cosmo’s cheek as she sucked her thumb.

Brooks wanted to stay in the wonderful blissful moment he was in, but he could feel reality beginning to cut in around his bubble world. “I can’t believe I allowed this to happen… what was I thinking?” He asked softly, more to himself than to Mike.

Not acknowledging the comment, Mike reached out for Cosmo, scooping the - almost - seven month old girl, out of his arms. “Awww who’s a pretty girl?”

“I can’t believe that… oh god, Mike.” Brooks groaned, leaning forward and bracing his hands on the counter.

Mike turned around and headed into the living room, “I think she kinda looks like me… I mean, I know she’s yours but… she definitely looks like me.” He mused as Cosmo giggled and reached up, grabbing onto his ear with a chubby fist.

Brooks followed after them, quietly keeping his distance as he spoke the words that he could feel himself choking on. “We can‘t keep her, Mike.”

“We have to keep her! She’s your daughter and I’m already attached! I’ll look after her if you don’t want to…” Mike shouted, startling both Brooks and Cosmo, as he turned on his room-mate, worry and stress etched on his face.

Brooks wanted to agree with him, find some way that this could work out… but it just wasn‘t possible. “Mike, she’s not a puppy! She’s a baby! We can’t look after a baby!”
When Mike didn’t say anything Brooks pressed on, taking advantage of his momentary silence. “Mike… look… I want to keep her, I do. Think about it though… what kind of father would I be? I can’t do this on my own-”

“-and you wouldn’t be alone. You have me.”

“That’s not what I meant Mike, I know that you’d be great with her… probably better than I’d be, but, who’s gonna look after her when we’re at practice? Or at a game? Or when we’re gone on a road trip?
There’s a reason most hockey wives don’t work… it’s because they’re like single mothers. They have to do everything on their own because we’re not around for them.
Who’s gonna look after her?”

Mike paused, blinking rapidly to keep his tears from spilling over. “Please Brooks… we’ll figure something out. She needs you.”
They both sat down on the couch, Mike moving Cosmo in between them; the body weight of the two boys causing her part of the couch to pop up.

“There’s a family out there that’d be better than us. A family that could give her all the love and attention she deserves.”

“But you’re her daddy.”

Brooks sighed, not wanting to argue with Mike anymore. It wasn’t that he agreed with Mike’s assessment, he just didn’t want to try and find reasons why he shouldn’t keep her; it wasn’t something he actually wanted to. “Dada.”

Brooks felt his breath catch in his throat as he glanced quickly at Mike, wondering if it was possible that that had just happened. Mike was staring back at him, his mouth gaping, as together they looked down at Cosmo.
She was smiling up at him, two tiny teeth in a mouth full of gum. Her green eyes watched his reaction as she waited for him to pick her up, which he did, before turning back to Mike. He took a deep breath before he spoke, his voice deep with emotion. “I guess she’s gonna have to stay now.”

“I’m not sure what we’re gonna do! This was such a bad idea…” Brooks sighed as he juggled their sticks, his bag, and Cosmo’s baby carrier, down the long hallways of the Verizon Center.

“It’s fine, babies love hockey. She can sit in the penalty box and watch us!” Mike grinned over his shoulder. “Won’t that be fun Cosmo? You wanna see uncle Mike knock your daddy down?” He cooed.

He was a few paces ahead of Brooks, his bag slung over his back and Cosmo clutched securely in his arms.

“Yah Mike, let’s just put her down on ice level with flying pucks and large men slamming into each other.” Brooks snapped, rolling his eyes as they continued down the hall.

“Well that’s why I said the penalty box! It’s covered in glass, she’ll be fine.”

Brooks didn‘t bother to respond to that comment directly. “We need to find Sandra, quick.” He said, making a comment about their coach’s wife, knowing that she would most likely be hanging around the rink. “She should be able to watch her until practice is over.”

“Umm… she’s right there… SANDRA!” Mike screamed, his voice echoing down the hall as an attractive, older woman came into view.

“And who is this!” Sandra squealed as she moved towards them, her arms already out stretched as she reached Mike, expertly pulling Cosmo out of his arms.

“Sandra, this is my daughter… Cosmo.” Sandra raised her eyebrows to appraise Brooks as he spoke. “I just found out a few hours ago… and… well… her mom’s dead. I guess she’s gonna be staying with us until we figure something else out…”

“Could you watch her while we’re at practice?” Mike asked, quickly getting to the point of the matter.

Sandra looked surprised and confused, but she didn’t ask any questions about the parenting of Cosmo, she just nodded. “Of course I will… now, where’s her baby bag at?”

“Her… ah… what?” Brooks and Mike said together, both of them looking at each other, trying to figure out what she meant.

“Her diapers, her food, a change of clothing… toys?” Sandra asked, as she rocked Cosmo back and forth on her hip. “You don’t have anything?”
They both shook their heads, feeling like idiots as Brooks silently cursed himself for forgetting something so obvious. “Ok… well then Cosmo, looks like we’re gonna go shopping!”

“Who did you fuck, rainbow bright?!” Poti laughed as the boys filled off the ice after practice. “Like seriously, Cosmo? Who names a baby Cosmo?”

“The real question, is who wanted to have sex with Brooks? Well other than Greener, I mean…” Theodore laughed as he walked by, slapping Brooks on the back of the head.

“Could you guys just knock it off? This is fucking serious, ok?” Brooks grumbled as he took a swat at Jose.

“I’ll say! I could hardly make it around that last lap… fuck. I am kinda out of shape now…” Mike sighed as he dropped down onto the bench beside Brooks. “That was exhausting.” He continued to complain as he undressed, not getting any kind of response from Brooks.

“So, what are you planning on doing? I mean, October 1st is a couple days away we have a game against Boston… who are you gonna leave the kid with?” At the question Brooks looked at Boudreau who was coming through the door.

“No can-do. Sandra’s got some kinda of red-lady-hat-group thing… or whatever it is that she does.” He explained, still looking sour with the events of the day. He stared Brooks down like he had planned this, his eyes accusing him of trying to bring down the team.
It made no sense, but Boudreau was under the impression that the sun shone out of Ovechkin’s ass, and he was the standard they were all held to. Ovechkin didn’t have any kinds, so that clearly meant that kids were wrong.

“I’ll figure something out.” Brooks said quietly before anyone else could criticize him or his parenting. At those words Sandra pushed in through the door, shielding her eyes as she cleared her throat.

“You’re safe.” Greener laughed and she put her hand down, adjusting Cosmo in her arms.
The room fell silent as she walked straight towards Brooks, handing the little girl over to her father.

The silent reaction was almost like no one had believed him, or Mike. Like the presence of an actual, living, breathing, child made her more real than his announcement that he had a child in the first place. “Alright well, are we still going out for dinner or what?” Alex asked, annoyed that the attention wasn’t on him and his fantastic performance at practice.

“Yah let’s go…” Greener said cheerfully, reaching over to mess the hair on top of Cosmo’s head.

Brooks sighed, not really feeling like going anywhere but also not ready to head home. He nodded finally, waiting as Mike finished changing before handing Cosmo off to him.
Brooks got dressed before meeting up with everyone else in the hall. “Listen Mike…” He said quietly as he took Cosmo back and headed towards the player parking lot with everyone else. “I think maybe I should just take her home… I have some things I need to do and, well, I don’t really feel up to it.”

“Yah, ok man… do you want me to just go back with you?” He asked, trying to appear unconcerned.

Brooks shook his head and waved away Mike’s worry. “No, you go out and have a good time… I’ll see you when you get home.”
Instead of arguing, Mike nodded, leaning forward to give Cosmo a quick kiss on the forehead before walking away.
He didn’t want to admit it to anyone else, but there was only one thing that Brooks had to do, one thing that he needed to do in order to figure all his shit out…and he really didn’t need Mike there when he called his mom to tell her.

Thursday, April 29, 2010

4. Mr. Laich?

Ok, before ppl start coming at me with the 'this is improbable' or 'that would never happen' comments... I know lol. Trust me, I know.
I wanted to re-work this into a reasonable transition, but with the flow of the story I have planned, it works much better this way so... just keep the fanFIC reading hats on and go with it lol

<3 you guys! And thanks for the feedback =)

Everything Changes - Staind

“Why is the sink so fucking full?” Brooks yelled as he walked past the kitchen to drop his hockey bag off at the front door.
They didn’t have their first real practice for another four hours, at 2pm, but Brooks was excited to get onto the ice.
He felt like he hadn’t been playing in forever. Although they had had camp and some scrimmages through the summer, now that it was September, he could taste the regular season.

Mike appeared a minute later in nothing but his boxers, hair askew. He was rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms, walking in a crooked line down the hallway. “Umm… I’ll do them now…” He grumbled, sounding slightly annoyed.

“Do them? Why don’t you just put them in the new washer?” Brooks laughed, folding his arms over his chest as Mike headed into the kitchen.

“I ummm… can’t open the dishwasher.” He mumbled as he began to fill the empty half of the sink with warm water.

“You can’t what?” Brooks asked, not sure if he actually heard Mike right. He headed into the kitchen and came to a stop beside him, leaning his side against the counter.

“Can’t what?” Mike replied, his voice higher than normal as he tried to dodge the question.

Brooks shrugged, his face breaking into a grin. “Did you say you couldn’t open the dishwasher?”

“Fuck you.” Was all Mike could reply before he plunged his hands into the warm water.
Brooks snorted and squatted down in front of the stainless steel appliance. His hands ran along the top, searching for some kind of button or latch. When he couldn’t find one - after the fifth slide across - he grabbed onto the top and began to pull. “I told you it was impossible to open.” Mike said finally, as he finished scrubbing off the last dish and put it into the rack to dry.

“This makes no sense… you have to be able to open it! Why would they sell you a dishwasher that doesn’t open?”

“It has to open…” Mike squatted down next to Brooks, feeling the same ledge Brooks had just been feeling.

They stayed like that until Brooks got fed up and walked away, leaving Mike to shrug and stand up, retreating back into the bathroom to put on some pants; dishes be damned.

When Mike appeared a while later, showered and changed, Brooks was sitting on the couch; his eyes glazed over. “I think we should just call ourselves undomesticated and move on.” He suggested, trying to lighten the dark mood that was hanging over his room-mate.

Normally Brooks would have fought with the washer until he was able to force it open with sheer willpower; today was different though.
He needed to get into his normal routine. They were going to be getting back together on the ice to start of the season and he needed to be focused, no distractions.
“We’ll figure it out later. Do you have everything you need to head to the rink?”

“Ummm… no. We don’t have to be there for a while so, I was gonna go back to sleep for an hour then play some Wii.” Mike said trying to sound like his plan had already been made and wasn’t about to change.

“Well, let’s go early. We can grab some food and head into the rink early to hit the gym.”

Mike let out a pitiful groan before flopping down onto couch with a sigh. “I don’t want to.” He moaned, rolling onto his back and throwing his arm over his face. “It’s too early, and too hot out and it’s not even the season yet!”

“Ok chubby cheeks… you can just meet me there.” Brooks grinned evilly before turning around and heading towards his room. If there was anything that was going to get Mike up and moving, it was a weight comment.
The season wasn’t even in swing yet and he’d already received some comments about that from the coaching staff, players, and Don Cherry.

Brooks had changed into a pair of dress pants, and was just buttoning up his collared shirt, when he heard Mike shuffle down the hallway. “Do you really think I’m fat?”

“No Mike, you’re not fat.” Brooks chuckled as he turned around to face his sulking friend. “Now get your shit ready.”

They were laughing as they headed down the stairs together, both of them grinning widely as they excused themselves past a man, and a woman in business attire. “Mr. Laich?” The man asked as he spun around on the stairs, after catching sight of Brooks’ last name on his hockey bag.

“Ah, yah…” Brooks said slowly, trying to avoid any awkward fan meetings. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate his fans, it was just that he didn’t like the idea of one of them hanging around his residents. What if his address ended up on some forum?

“Mr. Brooks and…?”

“Mr. Green.” Mike grinned, enjoying the sound of the title as it rolled off his tongue.

“Are you two together?” He asked, his tone clearly full of innuendo.

Brooks shook his head, trying to explain that they’re room-mates and nothing more, but Mike spoke up first, unaware of any kind of hidden insinuation. He slung his arm around Brooks' shoulders and grinned widely. “We sure are, going on two years now!”

“He doesn’t mean-” Brooks tried to explain, but the woman spoke up first.

“Then maybe you should both have a little chat with us.” She said, her voice stiff as she continued up the stairs, stopping right outside their door.
It was then that Brooks noticed she was holding a baby carrier.

Something about the idea made him uncomfortable, and he tried to find an exit. “I really don’t think that this is the time, we have to be somewhere…”

“No we don’t! We don’t have practice for three hours!” Mike shouted, happy that it looked like they wouldn’t be heading to the gym. Brooks groaned as Mike moved past him back up the stairs, and all he could do was shake his head and follow after him.
Mike pulled open the door, dropping his hockey bag in the hallway and allowing the strangers into their home.

The pair stood uncomfortably by the door as Mike dropped down onto the couch and Brooks moved past them.
“So… what’s this all about?” Brooks asked, finally realizing that these people were not fans at all; more like lawyers, by the looks of it.

“Well Mr. Laich, there’s been a situation and we need your immediate cooperation.” The man explained.

Brooks shook his head, stealing a look at Mike - who was currently zoned out, staring out the window - before asking for the names of the two people in his home.

“I’m Allan Rogerson and this is Stephanie Lawrence. We’re with Child Custody and Protective Services.” He explained, nodding towards the small baby carrier that was now on the floor at Anna’s feet.
When Brooks didn’t say anything, they continued. “We brought your daughter with us Mr. Laich, you’re her legal guardian now.”

Brooks shook his head, looking back and forth between the lawyers, waiting for someone to shout ’just kidding’ or ’fooled ya’! But it never came, finally he spoke up. “No.” Was all he could manage to say, followed by a string of insanities. “No, no… that’s not possible. You’re- I don’t have a… I don’t have a girlfriend, or an ex-girlfriend or a child or… you have the wrong person.”

“Brooks Laich, of Washington, DC.” Allan Rogerson said simply, reaching into his pocket to pull out a piece of paper.
He handed it to Brooks who took it and unfolded it; a birth certificate.

Name: Cosmo Starlight Laich
Date of Birth: February 22nd, 2009
Mother: Anna-Beth Michaels
Father: Brooks Laich
Location: Baltimore, Maryland, USA

“This is a mistake. I’m sorry but you have the wrong Brooks Laich. There’s probably a lot of them… so you should go like… look for… more…” He said quietly, still totally floored by even being accused of having a child.

“No Mr. Laich, we’re sure.” Allan reached into his pocket again, this time pulling out a picture.
The girl was one that Brooks didn’t recognize, of course, he also couldn’t see her face. She had her arms wrapped around him and he was holding on to her, laughing as he struggled to stand up.

“How does this-?”

“That’s her. That’s Anna-Beth, the mother of your child.” Stephanie said, finally speaking up. Brooks could tell that she was angry, but he didn’t care.

“This proves nothing… that’s not… this isn’t proof. This is me drunk at a bar!” He shouted, causing Mike to jump beside him. “In case you didn’t notice, I happen to be a famous, rich, hockey player… I don’t even mean that in a conceited way! There’s a lot of women that would lie about something like this to get money. This girl…” He said, pointing frantically at the picture, “this girl, is no one. I don’t know her!”

As if being drawn out of some deep-seeded concentration, Mike reached out, pulling the picture from his numb fingers. Brooks let it go, not bother to follow it with his eyes, until Mike made a comment. “Hey! I remember this night!”

“How could you remember that night Mike, you don’t know what night it was…”

“Yah I do… first off, you never get drunk… and secondly, that’s the sketchy bar Ovechkin dragged us to.” Mike paused and gave the picture a bashful smile before leaning forward and handing it off to the lady. “She’s the only girl you ever brought home since we moved in together, I remember because she tried to sneak out in the morning but I was already up.”

“Mr. Laich…” Allan began before Brooks could say anything else. “I know that this is a lot to take in, but this little girl needs a home, and you are her father.”

“I want a test then.” He said quickly, quietly, as he tried to look anywhere but at the small girl Stephanie was now un-strapping from the carrier. “I need a paternity test.”

They both nodded, but Mike was the only one to speak. “She’s so little.” His voice was full of excitement and wonder as he held out his arms awkwardly. Stephanie looked at him and then down at the girl before handing her over to Mike who cradled her gently in his arms.

“Why is this? I mean, shouldn’t you just be asking for money? Where’s her mother?” Brooks said, suddenly angry at Mike’s inappropriate interest in the child.

“She’s dead.” Stephanie said, her voice agitated as she watched Mike struggle to contain the sleeping child in a comfortable position.

“How?” Mike asked as he finally situated himself properly. Brooks glanced over at him, his brow furrowing. He felt himself heating up at the question. It had been on the tip of his tongue and he felt an unusual amount of anger towards Mike.

“Car accident. She was driving in a down pour and lost control of her vehicle. She wasn’t wearing a seat belt and was thrown from the car. She died on impact.”

“I-” Brooks started to say, but he stopped, putting his elbows up on his knees and dropping his face into his hands. He didn’t know what to say, what to think, or what to feel.
He wanted to tell them to leave, to get out. He didn’t believe that this was possible and he didn’t want to think about it any more.

Yes, ok. Vaguely, somewhere in his mind he remembered something about a girl sleeping with him, that one time that he was drunk… but what were the chances…?
His mom had always said to use protection, that all it took was one time…

He tried to remember the girl… her face, her scent, the sound of her voice or the feel of her skin, but he couldn’t.
All he could recall was the darkness of her room and a pair of startling green eyes.

The eyes. Suddenly everything came back to him in a flash and he could remember her face; her pale, smooth skin and those deep, intelligent, green eyes.
The same eyes that were looking at him now as the child awoke in Mike’s arms.

She looked at him and he couldn’t help but see her for who she was. Of course he knew who she was, how could he not?
The more he looked at her, the more he saw. She had tiny little lips and a small, perfectly formed nose that sat between her large, round eyes.
She was the perfect little girl, feminine and petite, but he could still see himself; in the light curly pieces of hair that sat on her head, and the shape of her jaw. She was part him, in the form of a tiny, perfect person.

She reached a perfect hand in his direction and he reached back on instinct, scooping her into his arms and gazing down at her. Her smile widened as her fist closed around his pointer finger, causing his breath to catch in his throat, as he held his daughter for the first time.
He wasn’t aware that the man and woman had left, or that they said they’d be back in a few days.

All he could fathom was the wetness in his eyes when he looked up to meet Mike’s gaze.
He could see it all in an instant. Her first steps, her first day of school, the first time she played hockey, the first time she drove…

It didn’t make sense, it was too much to take in. When he woke up this morning he was focused on hockey and trying to work the dishwasher, and now he had this; this perfect little life in his arms.
He thought that if he was lucky, one day he’d win a Stanley cup, maybe have a break-out year, but none of that seemed impressive anymore… not with her smiling face looking up at him.

“I-” He tried to say, but he couldn’t think of the words. He shook his head and tore his eyes away from her to look up at Mike once more. “I’m a daddy.”

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

3. Women

I Got A Girl - Tripping Daisy

Mike couldn’t hear himself think over the sound of the music, but that was alright with him; it also meant he couldn’t hear the sound of Denise yelling at him.
At the thought he cocked his head to the side and glanced at his girlfriend, only to find her mouth still moving in big, harsh movements. Yep, she was definitely still yelling...

Looking for an out, he glanced around the room, catching sight of an uncomfortable looking Brooks. He was standing by the newly built TV stand, sandwiched in between Bradley and Steckel.
With one last glance at the infuriated girl, Mike headed across the room, grabbing two beers off the table as he went.
He didn’t bother to look back as he became swallowed up by the group of people in his apartment, separating him even further from Denise.

“Hey man.” Mike called as he neared Brooks. Nobody heard him, so he continued closer, incidentally pushing Steckel out of the way until he was squished in between them.
Brooks wiggled his shoulders until he was free of his team-mates.

“Why the fuck is everyone getting so close to me?” He yelled, leaning into Mike and clearly directing the question at him.
Mike shrugged, nodding behind Brooks, as if the approaching Denise should be an answer to everything.

Brooks looked behind him and groaned, rolling his eyes as he turned back around and grabbed onto Mike.
He pulled Mike behind him down the hallway, pulling open his bedroom door and slamming it shut behind him; clicking the lock for good measure. “Why did you even invite her here?” Brooks sighed, his voice finally audible behind the closed door.

“I didn’t! She got home yesterday and flys out again tomorrow so… she decided to stop by.”

“Stop by so she could yell at you all night in front of your team-mates?” Brooks snapped, dropping down onto his bed beside Mike. “She’s such a bitch, seriously.”

“Fact.” Mike agreed, his eyes darting to the door-knob as someone gave it a hard twist.
They both sat in silence as the door-knob turned a few more times, before it stopped completely, and they glanced at each other. “How’d it go with Emily?” Mike asked before flopping backwards, while stretching his arms over his head.

Brooks shrugged and dropped down beside him. “I dunno. She didn’t really say anything…”

“Well that’s good, at least she didn’t scream at you… I hate when they scream…” He added, his voice trailing off as he let out a small shudder.

Rolling his eyes, Brooks turned over onto his side to glance at his room-mate. “Why don’t you just break up with her?” He asked, as quietly as he could, without being drowned out by the thumping. It wasn’t that he was afraid anyone would hear him, not at all. It had something to do with the fact that it was a sensitive subject, and they were in the dark; everyone knows that you’re suppose to whisper in the dark.

“I don’t know.” He said finally, his voice sad and resigned. “I just… it wasn’t always like this, you know? When we started dating back in the day, she was so… fun. She was my friend… and now-”

“-now she’s crazy as shit. You can’t stay with someone because of the ’what was’ Mike. You need to take a look at the 'what’s going on now'.”

Mike clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth a few times before answering again. “It’s not so bad now, I mean, we’re getting along better…”

“We’re hiding in my bedroom. We're hiding in my bedroom, from your girlfriend.”


“That’s not the sign of a good relationship… especially not when you only see her a couple times a month as it is.”

Mike laid still for a full minute before sitting up and pushing himself off the bed, signalling that the conversation had ended. Brooks didn’t bother trying to press the issue, this wasn’t the first time they had had this conversation, and he was positive that it wouldn’t be the last.
Mike was reaching for the door when a blast of cool night air hit him from behind. When he turned around Brooks was already facing the window, the same window that Ovechkin was now hanging through. “What the fuck are you guys doing in the dark?”

“What the fuck are you doing in here? How did you even get on the fire escape?” Brooks hollered, grabbing onto his chest and trying fruitlessly to calm his now racing heart.

“Semin bet me that I couldn’t jump from the deck to the fire escape. I was gonna go back but I saw you fags in here so I thought I’d come break up the sausage fest.”

“How is adding another guy gonna stop this from being a sausage fest?” Mike asked, his voice dripping in annoyance as he glanced back and forth between Alex and Brooks.

“Dunno.” Alex grunted, using his arms to pull himself into the room. “Anyway, as fun as hanging out in the dark with you two is, there are some sexy ladies out there to be had.”

“Oh please! Everyone out there is taken Ovie, as in, not going to sleep with you.” Brooks sighed, shaking his head at the antics of his big-headed team-mate. Mike might be able to deal with his egotistical ways, but Brooks certainly had no time for anyone like that.

Shrugging off Brooks’ angry tone, Alex headed towards the door, shooing Mike out of the way and pulling it open. “I dunno man, your neighbour’s fuck-able and Mike’s woman said she’s free.”

“Emily’s here?!” Brooks and Mike yelled at the same time, both of them running away from Alex and out the opened door.

When they got into the living room, the crowd had thinned out greatly and the music had been turned down to a hushed whisper. The only explanation that Brooks could think of, was the fact that Emily was standing in the middle of the room, her arms folded across her chest; a chest that was covered only in a barely-there nightgown.

He came to a complete stop in front of her and sucked in his breath; afraid but mildly surprised. Her long black hair was messy, and splayed out around her shoulders and down her back; startlingly different than her usual tight bun.

Emily’s eyes narrowed in on Brooks and he gulped, audibly. He reached out for Mike, trying to pull him up beside him, but he was gone.
Brooks spun around, watching hopelessly as Denise dragged Mike away down the hall towards certain doom; leaving him alone with the beast. “Uh… hey Emily, what’s up?”

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” She snapped, and Brooks felt his face redden, casting his eyes downward like a scolded dog.
He could feel everyone watching them, even if they were looking at everything but him. The people around him were all deathly quiet and he was sure that they were watching him through their peripheral vision.

“We were just having a team thing… like… one last hoopla before the season…” He explained lamely. “A shindig…” He added when she didn’t say anything.

He felt like an idiot. Here was a girl, yelling at him in his own house, in front of his friends… in reality he could just tell her to get out and shut up. The owner knew who Brooks and Mike were, as did the rest of the neighbours, all of whom didn’t care what they did in their apartment, as long as they could tell everyone that they lived with NHL players.
Emily didn’t fit into that category, she honestly couldn’t care who they were or how much money they made; all she wanted was quiet neighbours.

Part of Brooks wanted to mention that to her, to just ignore her and kick her out, but the other part of him remembered the look on her face earlier that day when he brought back the busted screw driver. “We’ll wrap it up, Em.” He said finally, giving her a weak smile, and waiting for her to smile back.

Her face never changed, if only to drop into a slightly darker scowl. “Don’t call me Em, my name is EMILY!” She snapped, spinning quickly on her feet, her dark hair fanning out behind her as she headed out the door.

When Brooks woke up the next morning, it was with the greatest of difficulty that he put the events and embarrassment from last night, out of his mind. With that thought, he gave his head a literal shake and rolled out of bed, swinging his feet down onto the floor.
He padded across the room, pulling the bedroom door open and stepping out into the hall; not bothering to don anything other than the boxers he fell asleep in.

He absent-mindedly continued into the hallway towards the kitchen, stopping only when he heard the middle of a hushed, heated conversation. “It’s not that I don’t love you! It’s just… Brooks gets me! He’s always there for me… I’m just not ready to move out yet. You can understand that, can’t you?” Mike’s voice sounded strained and tired, his tone allowing the repetitive nature in.
Judging by the compliance he was hearing, Mike and Denise had been having this conversation all night.

Her voice cracked out into the still morning air, the opposite of his; sharp and snaky. “No! You’re being an idiot!”

“Hey! Don’t call him an idiot!” Brooks couldn’t help but reply loudly, coming around the corner and dropping into the empty chair beside Mike.

“Oh right, sorry…” Denise grimaced sarcastically, “you’re the idiot.”

“Oh it’s on now! You can’t come in here and call us idiots… I think you should
go.” Brooks said, smiling as he folded his arms over his chest and laid back in his chair.
He knew she wouldn’t leave, but he didn’t care. He enjoyed pushing her buttons.

“He’s my boyfriend!” She snapped back, her eyes darting towards Mike, daring him to deny it.

“He’s my bestfriend!” Brooks answered before Mike could say anything else.
Denise and Brooks stared at each other for a full minute, both of them trying to find a way to get the last word in, but it was Mike who spoke next.

“Aw, I feel so wanted.” He grinned, too use to their bickering to take it to heart. He grabbed onto his mug of coffee and finished it off before getting up and carrying it towards the kitchen sink.

Sighing, Brooks turned back towards Denise. “Whatever… anyway, Dennis, why are you here?”

Denise threw her head back and pushed herself away from the table, crossing the tiled floor towards Mike. “My name is DENISE, not DENNIS… you retard!”

“That’s what I said Dennis, now why are you still here?”

“Are you gonna let him talk to me like that?” She shouted at Mike, pointing her finger behind her at Brooks.
She stared intently at Mike, waiting for him to champion her, but he only shrugged.

“You’re more of a hard ass then I am, if you got a problem with it, you say something.” He said, his confidence regained with the sudden appearance of Brooks; who snorted at the comment.

Rolling her eyes, Denise turned around and headed for the front door. “Anyway, I’m gone for the rest of the weekend with the mayor. I’ll call you when I get off the plane in Florida, and you better answer.” She called to Mike, over her shoulder as she grabbed her briefcase off the floor.

They both watched her go, waiting until the door closed behind her and the telltale click-click of her heels could be heard descending the stairs. “Lock that fucking door before another set of tits comes through it.” Brooks groaned, giving Mike the only amount of prompting he needed to cross the room and set the deadbolt. “Fuckin’ women.” He sighed as Mike returned and dropped down onto the chair next to him.

Mike had nothing more to offer than a nod of his head, before dropping his forehead down onto the table and closing his eyes; his head still pounding with the sound of Denise’s voice.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

2. Living Large in 3F

Ummm so... I didn't really proof this per-say... but I'm heading out in a few to see Kick-Ass and as much as I love you guys... I also love me some Nicholas Cage so... I'll fix it later! haha just didn't want to delay the post and leave you guys hanging!


You Had A Bad Day - Daniel Powter

September 17, 2009

“I can’t believe I agreed to buy furniture with you… it seems so gay.” Brooks sighed, more to himself than to his room-mate, who was currently pulling the new couch out from the wall.

“Well it makes more sense then spending all that money renting that stuff. This way we at least own something, plus this place needed a facelift… bad.” Mike said back, too focused on his leather loveseat’s placement, to care about any snide comment coming out of Brooks. Besides, he was far too use to them.

Brooks shook his head, folding is arms over his chest and turning his back on Mike. He headed towards the window, glancing out at the rear parking lot, just in time to see Emily coming in the back door.
She’d been living across the hall from Brooks and Mike since they moved in, back in 2006; a fact she seemed to get more bitter about as time went on.

She was a huge bitch. Bitter, resentful and always in a bad mood. She was pretty, Brooks supposed, if you went for that… homely, never-wore-make-up, spawn of Satan, kind of look.
He never tried to understand her motives. Never once had she tried to get on him, Mike or any of their friends that came over, and she had no interest in the fact that they were hockey players. She didn’t even watch hockey, for gods sakes.
But the only thing about Emily, that really, really bothered him, was that she never moved. She complained all the time about having to live around ‘noisy’, ‘immature’, ‘slobs’, but she never moved.

It wasn’t like she couldn’t afford it. This apartment building catered only to the rich, something that was evident with the view, decorations, doorman and the price of rent.
If she could afford to live here, she could afford almost anywhere in the greater Washington area.

A large screech caused Brooks to turn around, drawing him out of contemplation. “What are you doing anyway?” Brooks groaned as he caught sight of the large white scratch marks that now decorated the deep mahogany hardwood.

Mike bit his lip, rubbing his socked foot on the new mark, trying - uselessly - to remove it. “I was making a walking path behind the couch so you didn’t have to go around anything.”

“We’re not fucking Sims, Mike… we aren’t gonna get confused if we have to change direction.”

“I didn’t- ugh. Why are you in such a bad mood?” Brooks exhaled loudly, instantly feeling bad about chirping on Mike; if there was one thing Mike could do, it was make Brooks feel guilty.

“I don’t know man… just antsy for the season to start, I guess. Sorry.” He added, grabbing the couch and attempting to lift it to Mike’s desired place.
Mike didn’t say anything, he just gave Brooks a small smile before grabbing onto the other side and taking a few steps back.
He didn’t have to say anything though, Brooks was always wound so tight, he went off a few times a day. He needed to relax, stop and smell the roses, so to speak.

Mike, of course, didn’t have that problem. His issue was the opposite, he was incapable of getting wound up over anything.
They balanced each other out nicely, which is probably why they got along so well; why they were able to live together and not try to suffocate the other while he slept.

No matter what happened between them, they both knew that in a few minutes it would go back to water under the bridge; stick with the status quo, and all that.

Once the living room was set up, Mike ventured out to buy groceries, leaving Brooks to set up the new entertainment centre.
He had actually managed to assemble the frame, when he realized that he didn’t have a screw driver to finish pushing the screws through. Sighing, Brooks got up, leaning the frame against the couch before heading towards the door.

He knew where he had to go, but that didn’t make the trek any better. Heading across the hall Brooks dragged his feet, trying to prolong his sense of dignity. It was a Sunday so he knew that Emily would be there; it wasn’t like she actually had friends or people that wanted to spend time with her, so where else would she be?
Sure enough, when he knocked on the door, footsteps padded somewhere behind it, and he took a step back; bracing.

When Emily’s face appeared in the door, she looked hopeful at first, but that quickly faded to a frown. “Oh.” She said, sounding disappointed when she caught sight of Brooks. “It’s you… well… what do you want?”

“Screwdriver.” Brooks said quickly, not wanting to prolong the conversation or say the wrong thing and make her angry. “Please.” He added quickly, hoping she didn’t catch the hesitation.

She stared at him, judging him for a full minute, pursuing her lips until she apparently decided to let him borrow the tool. She slammed the door in his face, and Brooks heard the bolt being latched before she moved back into her apartment.
Rolling his eyes. Brooks waited.

She appeared a minute later, holding up a screwdriver. Brooks reached for it, but she pulled it back. “I know what it looks like, so if you break it like you did my hammer, or get it all covered in gunk like my plunger, I’ll know.” She threatened before holding it back out and allowing him to take it. “You always take my tools, why don’t you just invest in your own toolbox?”

“No room for one… I’ll bring it back in one piece.” Brooks chided, rolling his eyes again as he headed back down the hallway. How could anyone be like… well, like that?
Sure sometimes Brooks got annoyed at the guys on his team for always being around, but he’d rather never have anytime alone, then spend every day that way.
He’d never even seen the inside of her place. It was probably a lair, or a cave… He shook the thought as he pushed open his door and sat back down on the floor.

Moving the screwdriver with increased caution, Brooks proceeded to finish the TV stand. He lifted it up, carrying it - with difficulty - to the other side of the room. Once it was in place he grabbed the TV and set it on the stand; stepping back and crossing his fingers in the hope that it wouldn’t collapse under the weight.
It let out a groan, but his handy work held. He folded his arms across his chest proudly, grinning to himself as the washing machine’s buzzer went off.

Brooks headed down the hall, giving a gentle shove on the slightly opened, laundry room door. When it didn’t move at all, he pushed harder, then harder; until he turned to the side, in order to put his shoulder into the shove.
When he was able to get the door opened enough to get into the room, Brooks realized why it had been so hard to get in, in the first place.

The floor was covered - literally covered - with a half foot of clothing in every direction. No, not just clothing, Mike’s clothing.
Apparently he’d decided to clean every single thing he owned, at once. Brooks didn’t bother trying to understand the motive behind it, that would involve trying to understand Mike and well, Brooks had given up on that a long time ago.
Sighing, he just shook his head, walking across the floor and scooping up the clothing as he went.

He spent almost a full half-hour reorganizing the room, trying to put everything into it’s place.
That was his biggest problem. Even though it was dirty laundry, it still had a certain place and it needed to be put there. He couldn’t leave anything alone. Brooks was incapable of just turning around and walk away from disarray. Probably because he knew full well if he tried to leave that room without changing anything, he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it

He sorted the laundry according to colour, fabric and directions, placing each one into it’s newly assigned basket. When the floor was cleared off, he began to empty the washer; throwing all the damp clothing into the dryer before flicking off the light and heading out into the living room again.
Brooks walked past the TV stand, only to pause, his brow crinkling as he tilted his head. Something wasn’t right.

When he looked across the room at the newly-built stand, he realized that it was tilting. With an angry sigh Brooks grabbed the screw driver off the floor and dropped down onto his knees, beside the stand.
He wobbled it slightly, finding the point of weakness, before fitting the tip of the screwdriver into the screw and trying to tighten it.
Making no headway, he began to twist harder, wrenching his hand around and trying to force the screw into place with nothing more than strength and sheer will.

He felt the screwdriver give, causing his hand to lunge forward, his knuckles slamming into the wooden stand. He let out a muffled curse as he retracted his hand, stretching it out and examining it closely for any long-term damage. When he was satisfied that it was nothing more than a slight contusion.
Drawing his eyes away from his hand, he caught sight of the screwdriver on the floor, or at least part of it. “Oh fuck…” He groaned, picking up the broken handle off the floor. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

“Nope! I really do have fruit roll-ups!” Mike cheered as he pushed the door open, his normally contagious grin, faltering when he saw the look on Brooks’ face. He closed his mouth, setting his armful of brown paper bags on the counter, careful to keep the groceries from falling out. “What’s up, man?”
Brooks didn’t bother answering. He bent down, retrieving both pieces of the broken tool before standing up again and showing them to Mike. “Oh… you broke your- wait, that’s not yours is it?” Brooks shook his head, walking towards Mike and setting the broken handle and tip on the counter beside him.

“It’s Emily’s.” He explained, unnecessarily; Mike had already figured that much out.

“She is not going to be happy… first the hammer, then the wrench… then the-”

“-Yah, I got it Mike, thanks.” Brooks snapped, instantly feeling bad. He had a horrible tendency of taking things out on Mike, even the things that had nothing to do with him. “Sorry…” He sighed finally, but like normal, Mike only shrugged it off as he moved around the kitchen, filling the cupboards with his spoils.

“Did you remember that we’re having the team over tonight for barbeque?”

“Ugh, no. Shit… alright well… I’ll help you in a sec but… I should bring this back…” Brooks said quietly, heading out the door and down the hallway before Mike could stop him.

He stood outside the door, an eerie reminder of all that had transpired, only an hour before. Of course, this time he was more nervous… this time he didn’t have to assume that he’d fuck up, he already had.
With a deep breath he knocked on the door lightly, with a shaking hand, resisting the urge to drop the broken tool on the floor and take off.
When she didn’t answer, Brooks leaned towards the door, trying to make out the muffled sounds behind it.

It sound like music, like a low, rock balled. He tried to make out the words, but couldn’t. He shook his head - it didn’t matter what she was listening to anyway - and knocked on the door louder.
When she opened it, her eyes instantly found the mangled remains of the screwdriver in his hands.

She didn’t even offer any words of anger or surprise. Emily held out her hand and took both pieces, before slamming the door in his face.
Brooks stood there for a minute, allowing himself to sigh. He turned and moved back towards his opened door, sheepishly dragging his feet.

Part of him was glad Emily hadn’t yelled at him, the other part wished that she had of. It was almost like he had just done something foolish and got caught by his mother red-handed.
It was always the worse when they didn’t yell; silent disappointment always made Brooks feel horrible

Monday, April 26, 2010

1 - One Night Stand

Yay! I finally updated lol! Ummm also be forewarned, I was bored of just writing random smut so I wanted to do something that I hadn't done in an update before and well... it's pretty nasty lol.
Anyway, hope you enjoy this one! I have the first 6 updates done and they'll be going up every night from now until I run out.
I'm hoping to get a lot more done this week after class, maybe even enough that I don't have to miss any nights.
Anyway, enough of my rant... hope you enjoy =)

May 14, 2008

I Drink Alone - George Thorogood

“Dude, you’re so drunk right now!” Mike yelled, slapping Brooks on the back of the head.
Brooks turned around, using his pool cue to hold him up as he searched for the culprit. He grinned when he saw Mike, shaking his head slowly, as he tried to keep his vertigo down.

“No’way man… I’m not even drinkin’.” Brooks grinned with drunken swagger. Mike tugged on the pool stick, so he let it go, leaning back against the table to hold himself up instead. “Where the fuck did the rest of ’em go?” He slurred, glancing around the dark pool hall.
It wasn’t like he could actually see who was around him, his eyes were almost completely hooded over from the effects of the alcohol, it was more from force of habit then anything.

Brooks felt a pair of tiny arms wind their way around his waist and he glanced down. He couldn’t remember exactly when, or from where, the small girl had come from, but it didn’t really matter anymore.

He wasn't usually looking for hook-ups, and she wasn’t his usual type of girl... but then again, this also wasn’t his usual type of establishment.
In fact, this was the first time he’d ever been inside the sketchy, smokey, dank, pool hall.

Mike, Brooks and a few of the other guys had been dragged there by Ovie, who, for whatever reason, was chasing after one of the female bartenders. Apparently he’d caught her though, because as Brooks looked around, he couldn’t see any sign of the loud Russian anywhere.
Looking back down at the small woman, Brooks could only shrug his shoulders and go with it.

Normally he wasn’t the drunk one. He usually spent his nights trying to control his friends, trying to be the responsible one. He liked to think he was just more mature than the average pro athlete, but in Mike’s opinion, Brooks was really just a party-pooper.
That was actually how the whole situation had come around.

It wasn’t like Brooks to be peer pressured or swayed, even if it was entirely in character for Mike to attempt it. Either way, he couldn’t remember exactly what kind of a mood he was in, that he had allowed himself to be bamboozled into drinking the whole juggity-jug of rum, alone.
Or, what Mike could have possibly suggested, that made drinking several Rev’s on top of that, sound like such a good idea.

“Brooksie, you ready to go man? You’re spacing out…” Mike said loudly, his voice dragging Brooks back into reality.
Nodding he smacked his lips together, grimacing at the taste of mixed alcohol on his breath.

“Lead away!” He shouted back, scooping up the girl with a little too much gusto; actually lifting her right off the floor.
Losing his balance with the slight change in weight, Brooks stumbled, almost dropping the girl and ploughing down Mike in one move.

Somehow they managed to get out of the bar without breaking anything, or anyone, and ended up back at their apartment, in what felt like no time at all.
Brooks wasn’t sure whether or not the girl that was with them was drunk, but he didn’t really care as he tried to follow her up the stairs.

Mike was leading, shushing at both of them, but Brooks couldn’t figure out why. He was being even more quiet and graceful than Mike, or so he thought, until they got to their floor. “Do you have any idea what time it is?!” Emily snapped as Brooks tripped up the last step and landed, sprawled across the floor.

“Oh hey’Em!” He said loudly, grinning up at her as the overly-anal girl from across the hall, glared back down at him.

“Switching places tonight?” She barked, snapping her eyes up towards Mike.

Mike held up his hands in surrender, walking backwards towards the and ushering the girl along with him. “He’s the drunk one… why are you-”

“-God Em… lighten up, you’re the party pooper now.” He said, laughing loudly at the prospect. “Hey Mikey… did’cha hear that?”

“Get him up… and in bed!” She said, her tone softer than before as she headed back down the hallway towards her opened door. “And don’t call me ’Em’.”

Pretty soon he was laying on his bed, watching Mike flick off the light and feeling the mattress shift, as the girl crawled up beside him. Brooks mumbled something to her, something even he couldn’t make out, but he reached out in her direction anyway.
She crawled into him, and a string of thoughts floated through his mind, but he ignored any questions he had for her.

She smelt good and she was warm, plus her skin was soft and she fit nicely into his arms. Brooks went with it, pulling her down on top of him until she was pressed firmly against his taut chest.
She teetered back until she was sitting on him, before pulling her shirt up over her head and tossing it to the side.

It was fairly dark in the room, but Brooks could still see her shape enough to know that she hadn’t been wearing anything under the shirt she’d just discarded. Grinning, he reached up, grasping her nipples in between his thumb and forefingers, squeezing each one until they were rock-hard beneath his fingers.

She repositioned herself and leaned forward, her breasts only a few inches away from his face. Tilting his chin, Brooks opened his mouth and took one in, grazing his teeth along her soft flesh, until she let out a muffled grunt.

With a last burst of balance, Brooks threw her off of him; laying her flat on her back and climbing on top of her.
He fought with button on her jeans before giving up, grabbing the denim fabric, and pulling with all his strength.
He felt it give and she bucked her hips, allowing him the leverage he needed to pull them off completely.

Remembering that he was still dressed, Brooks grabbed his shirt and tried to tug it over his head.
His hand-eye coordination spent, it got stuck, and he fought with it.
While he was busy trying to free himself from the white, cotton, death-trap, the girl was undoing his pants.

He felt the cool air against his skin, but that sensation was only short-lived, before the feel of her wet tongue on his erection, over powered everything else he was feeling.

Finally freeing himself from his shirt, he tossed it aside and glanced down. Even on his knees he was still slightly rocky, and ever move he made caused the mattress to shift slightly under him; enough that even as amazing as her mouth felt, he knew he needed to lie down.
He grabbed onto the back of her head and moved himself backwards until he was laying down again. He didn’t remove his hold on her, the only other change in position he made, was to throw his free hand up over his face.

As drunk as he was, Brooks relaxed instantaneously, allowing his body to cease functioning and go along with the physicality of the whole thing. It was pretty simple, to just close his eyes and get lost in the feel of her mouth all over him.

He wanted to do that, to just get off and fall asleep, without even having to change his current position; but some tiny sense of guilty went through him. Taking a deep breath he withdrew his arm from his eyes and sat up, grabbing onto the back of her head and tugging her away from him.
Having a fairly good idea where he was taking things, she fell backwards onto the bed; spreading her legs so he could crawl in-between them.

"How do you want it?" He slurred, pressing his thumb against her clit roughly, until she cried out.

"Hard..." She whined, reaching out and dragging her nails along his arms, until he was sure that they were bleeding. He didn't care though, the harder her nails dug in the tighter his grip became under his other hand.
Brooks could feel the tender skin and taut muscle of her leg between his fingers and he squeezed her harder in his powerful grasp.

He moved his hand from her clit and pushed her legs open further for good measure, before grabbing his, thick, hard, cock in his hand and hitting it against the wet heat in between her legs. "Mmmhmmm..." She groaned as she stretched her arms above her head, exposing herself to him fully. "Fuck me hard."

"Oh yah? Are you dirty girl? Tell me just how dirty you are. How dirty do you want it?"

"I want to be so dirty for you..." She purred, closing her eyes and biting her lip as she gyrated her hips for him.

He knew what he wanted to do, what he felt like doing. As if to test that waters he reached out again, circling her clit before sliding his thumb down towards her pussy, and then further. He felt her legs stiffen as he began to push his thumb into her ass.

Getting no more of a reaction then a groan of appreciation, Brooks pulled his hand backed and grabbed hold of his erection.
He fumbled with the drawer of his bed side table, leaning over in order to extract one of the many lube bottles from inside. Applying it liberally onto his hand, he ran it up and down his length, covering the smooth skin completely in the shiny, slick liquid.
Next Brooks moved back to her and pushed himself inside of her easily; pleased to find that he didn't have to fight against her body. Her opening worked with him, spread to give him better access, but staying tight enough that she felt amazing.

She let out a soft moan, like music to his ears, as he bent low over her and his hands slid under her smooth back; pinning her against him.
He pumped into her until his breath was coming out raggedly and sweat was starting to dancing across his skin, causing her hands to slip when she grasped onto his arms in an attempt to hold herself steady.

Whether he was just becoming more aware of his surroundings, or whether he was starting to sweat off his drunk, Brooks glanced down at her; finally seeing her for the first time.
She was pretty, he supposed. She had dirty blond hair that fanned out around her, and her eyes were a startling green; deep and passionate.
But there was something else there too, a fierce intelligence that caused him to pause.

He looked away from her, uncomfortable with her gaze, there was something about seeing that glint of aptitude in her eyes that seemed to make her more of a real person to him; as opposed to some girl he found in a bar.
He couldn’t think like that though, not if he wanted to finish the job.

Brooks pulled out, flipping her over onto her stomach and taking her from behind. “Do you know who I am?” He asked gruffly, his voice thick from lack of use and the excessive burn of alcohol. He waited.
Not getting an affirmative response, he dug his fingertips into her firm thighs, until he could feel her body flex in response.

She glanced behind her, nodding at him; her top teeth dragging along her bottom lip as she waited for him to say something else. He tilted his head back, rolling it, trying to relieve some of the tension he was feeling.
With another deep breath of ambition, he pulled her off the bed - half dragging and half pulling her behind him. "Say it then." He said gruffly, his voice thick and ragged with want.

Their destination was a cold, navy wall of his room, and he pinned her against it. "Brooks." She sighed, her voice airy as he forced his way inside of her again. "Mmm... Brooks Laich."

Brooks grunted in approval, slamming his body against hers as the door opened beside them. “Ummm so… this is awkward… but I think my PJ pants are in here.” Mike chimed as he moved into the darkened room, manoeuvring through it from memory, as Brooks pulled out of the girl.
Mike headed towards the dress, shifting through the pile of folded laundry on top, until he felt a familiar pair of fleece pants.

He spun around and held them up, almost as if he was trying to prove that they were actually in there, and he wasn’t a pervert.
Brooks rolled his eyes, suppressing a snort as Mike moved past them again. He felt no need to hide himself or the naked girl from Mike; they’d lived with each other too long to bother with formalities like those.

When the door was shut again Brooks turned back to her, his eyes adjusting to the darkness once more.
She reached out, wrapping her tiny fingers around the base of his erection, one by one. He sighed as she applied more pressure, feeling his blood pulse beneath her hold as she began to pull her hand up and down his length.
With a quiet moan he grabbed her chin, tilting her face towards him and bending forward to allow his lips to press onto hers.
She parted her lips and he pushed his tongue in, sweeping it through her mouth.

He pressed his left hand against the cold wall and leaned forward, further pushing her against the wooden surface. His other hand found it’s way onto her stomach before sliding down to the heat between her legs.

He grabbed her clit in his fingers, massaging it with his thumb and forefinger until she let out a cry; muffled only by the pressure of his lips. “Do you like that?” He asked quietly, not wanting to drown out the sound of her gentle purr.
She nodded, tilting her head back against the wall and biting down on her lip. He moved his fingers forward until he could slid them inside of her. Brooks moved them roughly on purpose, earning a gasp from her before asking, “do you want me inside you?”

“Yes…” She whispered, the ‘s’ drawn out until it disappeared into nothing, leaving the sound of hiss in his ear.
That was all the prompting he needed. Grabbing her smooth thighs and lifting her off the ground, Brooks held her high enough to slide his erection into her easily. The slick heat surrounded him fully, causing him exhale loudly as he began to rock his body upwards.
He could feel his orgasm building, just as the room began to tilt around him.

He shook his head, trying to throw off the queasy feeling that was spreading through him; but the sudden jerky movement, only served to make it worse. Realizing his distress, the girl tapped on him on shoulder, trying to get herself on the floor. Brooks obliged, setting her down and allowing her to lead him back to the bed.
He stumbled along the way, but made it, landing face-up on the massive mess of bed sheets. She climbed back on top of him but Brooks held up his hand. “You should grab a condom from the table…” He mumbled, flopping his hand down in the direction of the bedside table.
Whether she heard him, or whether he had actually said anything tangible, he didn’t find out.

The last thing he felt was a warm wetness enveloping him, as the darkness closed in around him.

Saturday, April 17, 2010

My sincerest apologises...

Hey everyone!

Alright so I just wanted to give you guys a quick update on my status...

I'm been insanely busy and I haven't had a whole lot of time to work on my stories. Plus, any time I have been working on them, I've felt very unsatisfied with what I've written.
I assumed that people would rather wait a while longer for something that I feel proud of, then start reading something that isn't as good as I'd like it to be.

Anyway, the first update for this story is in blogger and scheduled to update on the 27th (giving me ten more days to get as much done as possible)... so I guess I'll see what you guys think of it then!

Thanks for you tolerance and once again, sorry for the wait! =)

P.S To everyone else who writes on here and has me as a follower for their stories... I'm so, so, so sorry that I've been lacking with comments! I've either been reading updates on my phone (where I can't comment) or just not having enough time to read as I'd like!
I promise that I still enjoy reading all the stories that I follow on here and that as soon as May comes and things settle down, I'll get back into the swing of things.