Chapter 4.2: My Attention's Defi-shit

Angie is still knocked out cold when we get back, soundly sleeping off our last couch session and its aftermath, so Billy diligently does his workout in the basement gym instead. I try to keep my little moan of glee contained and I’m fairly certain I succeed. It’s embarrassing how quickly he’s made me go from not really caring about muscle to addicted to watching him move the heaviest things in sight with ease and the feeling of power primed beneath our skin. It makes me feel invincible, despite the clear evidence of how mortal I was. I try not to dwell on that. He doesn’t deserve it.

He reminds me that I shouldn’t be thinking about that and don’t deserve to either. In his mind, the gym is a place we get to be totally empty like when we give Angie complete control. It’s just a different kind of empty. I try not to make us cum while we’re doing squats this time. I personally feel like I can be forgiven for being overwhelmed by the feeling of shouldering an adult’s worth of weight like it’s nothing, feeling every muscle of our legs work in perfect concert as our ass pushes out, and—

Billy grunts as he loudly thunks the dumbbell in our hand back into its spot with the others, using the mirror to look me in the eye. “Peej, you’re a fucking tease. You don’t have to sexualize a back squat so much.” He adjusts our dick in those stupidly short shorts he keeps insisting are necessary and I praise whoever set up this rental for having the foresight to have a gym space inside. I’d be dying again of embarrassment if we had to do this in public. “And leg day was two days ago. Today is arms and you’re helping, okay?” I groan in our shared internal space but I do it anyway. This has been part of our routine since that first night, his way to make sure I don’t feel powerless like that again. Neither Angie nor I have had the heart to tell him to his face that we couldn’t deal with the idea of me puppeteering him.

So I shakily pick up much lighter weights that still look too heavy for me and unprettily grunt and huff my way through Billy’s mostly hands-off instructions. We would look ridiculous to anyone else based on what we see in the mirror, a man this obviously well-built whining pitifully as he attempts to lift weights smaller than his biceps over his head. Billy once again gently reminds me that I’m not the one that worked to get her body to his current state and thus have a different learning curve when it comes to actually using our body.

With the daily embarrassment behind us, we emerge from the basement to find Angie slumped at the kitchen table with her own caffeinated abomination, glaring through it to the natural cotton cloth and finished wood. She isn’t a morning person in any sense and, given the opportunity, I think she might sleep well past noon on any given day. With this maybe being our last day together, she’s graciously hauled herself out of bed by 9am. She hasn’t even bothered with doing more to her hair than shove a tie at it to keep it all back. Not for the first time, I think about styling it for her. Maybe some overnight braids, so it forms soft curls in the morning.

“Hey, babe!” Billy chirrups as he passes by and we drop a kiss on the top of her head. That gets a ghost of a smile but she doesn’t move beyond that. We don’t bother with any small talk that she wouldn’t want anyway, we just silently start making breakfast for three. That first morning made it obviously that Billy wasn’t just eating a normal amount that went with weightlifting and working out. Like everything else, my hunger amplified his. He tells me he wouldn’t be upset if he gained weight but I feel the flickers of insecurity. I almost ask about it and he almost shows me where it comes from but, like my own origins, it was pushed to the side to examine later. We had more important things to do, like each other and Angie.

Breakfast today is simple: eggs, toast, avocado, and cute little sausage links. I’d tried baking something for them on the second day to say thank you, even getting Angie to go grocery shopping. That’s how we learned that not only is Billy not equipped to bake but that they both have an iron resistance to sugar and sweets, a disappointment to my now obvious sweet tooth. The lopsided little tarts are still languishing on the counter in their covered dish.

I nudge Billy to bring up his plan when Angie finally looks more alive and he makes a tiny noise like a wounded puppy that fills me with confusion. Angie looks up at us sharply and narrows her eyes, making us both freeze up. “You two are up to something,” she mumbles, aiming for authoritative domme but falling short as she lets out a jaw cracking yawn. “Oh, shit, that actually hurt. Now spill. That was your ‘I’m planning to do something my girlfriend might yell at me about but someone interrupted me while thinking about it with her in the room’ noise.” Maybe I should ask how they know these hyper-specific tells for each other.

“We, uhhh…” Billy fidgets in our chair, never looking her in the eye. That’s when I feel it, the same constricting sensation in our gut. I know I’ve felt that before, right before he asked if I’ve ever done a polar bear dip. But he wouldn’t, would he? “We want to buy a house. Here. In case Peej can’t come with us.” He would.

I can’t believe you said we had this idea! It was all you!

Yeah, comes Billy’s suddenly calm internalized reply. Our body was even relaxing! I was absolutely going to get him back for this. But she’ll be less mad if it’s both of us. She’s got a soft spot for you!

I think the fact that she was dating you first means she has a soft spot for both of us. I focus our attention back on Angie, who’s now scrolling through a phone. Billy’s phone. We check our pockets, remembering to be gentle as we both search, and come up empty. We really needed to work on our spatial awareness.

“William Lewis Kinley,” we both flinch at his full name, “just how much space do you think we need in a house? This is a small mansion.”

“Well, we need a gym and I’m only going to lift heavier,” Our lashes flutter as I let myself fantasize for just a moment. “Which Peej is so into. You always said you wanted a dungeon one day. And Peej is going to need her own space. We gotta have room for guests too. And maybe… kids?” Oh, so that’s what this was really about. Billy elbows at my presence the same way I always do to him and I finally think I have an idea of what I’m like: soft and pink-ish and maybe a little unstable. Like a cupcake made of Angel food and topped with a massive pile of icing and decorations. Huh.

“We would run out of space fast at our current place,” Angie grudgingly agrees, crossing her arms under her chest and making us both drool. We almost miss what she says next. “I’m not saying no, but maybe we hold off a little longer like we talked about.” She catches where our eyes are glued and laughs, squeezing them gently together. The low cut of that loose shirt she’s been sleeping in makes it hard to ignore that she’s not wearing a bra. “You can buy a house here when you can look me in the eyes while I do this,” she husks sexily with an arch her back and we stop breathing for a split second. Even with the harsh lighting and pajamas, she looks like a goddess. Maybe especially with the pajamas. I know from experience now how that soft warm sun-kissed skin laid over muscle feels in our hands, how much she reacts to a squeeze of her breasts and a tease of her nipple. As if on cue, we catch sight of the edge of an areola and I bite our lip as I think about tasting it. She’s just so fucking beautiful and perfect.

“Hmmm, looks like no large irresponsible purchases for you two today.” She lets go all at once and collapses back into a slump in the chair, finishing her coffee like nothing happened. “But we’ll come up with a real backup plan if we need to, okay?”

“Huh?” We blink a few times and play back the conversation.

Billy! What the fuck? I feel like I’m pacing but I’m fairly certain I’m just making our knee jiggle.

Me what the fuck? You that the fuck! Billy lets our eyes wander back to her chest, catching sight of a fading bruise I left. You’re the one who started thinking about sucking on her tits! Again!

And you’re the one who put our eyes there, what was I supposed to do?! We have eyeballs! Am I supposed to not use them!? I stop pacing and reach out toward his goldenrod warmth. So kids, huh? You’re so painfully heterosexual.

Hey, don’t knock it ‘til we’ve tried it. He pulls me in close and it almost feels like we’re cuddling together. Almost. I try not to let the sudden melancholy of yet another thing I never get to experience bleed out but he knows. He always knows. Don’t think I’ll be able to pull off that one for you, babe. I flash him a fantasy that makes him sit up straight with a tiny yelp. Angie just squints at us for a long moment before looking back down at her phone. Hers this time, Billy’s is back on our side of the table. Neither of us is sure when she did that. We still pocket it all the same.

What if we tried to not have sex today? I can feel his urge to laugh bubbling up and I make an annoyed little huff. I’m serious! If this is the last day I get with you, I want to remember both of you. I want you to be the good memories the next time I possess someone.

“Peej.” He sounds so small and desolate that it makes Angie sit up at full attention, eyes scanning us for the problem. “Oh, sorry, that was—” He clears his throat and rubs at his eyes to avoid looking at Angie or anything too reflective. “PJ wants to spend our whole last day together.” The silence tells us that was a given. “Together and not having sex.”

“Oh,” comes Angie’s soft, thoughtful response. I have to try to see what she’s thinking and turn our eyes to find her looking at us like when she first called Billy ours. “I think that can be arranged, so long as you two can be good.”