Eric felt his nose wrinkle in spite of his attempt to keep cool—but he couldn’t help it.  Whatever Shitty was mixing in that tub looked toxic, a sort of greenish hue, and smelt of possibly actual petrol which was never a good sign.  Eric had been to a frat party or two back in Georgia and he knew things got…experimental.  And occasionally out of hand.  His baseball team wasn’t as tight as this one had been, however, and they certainly hadn’t been this excited to get black-out wasted.

But it seemed the tradition.  “This is nothing,” Shitty explained, clapping Eric on the shoulder as he poured some sort of tropical, green-dyed punch from a large tin with holes poked into the top.  “This is just the welcome night for all the little early birds hoping to catch a few worms.  Everyone on frat row is doing it.”

Eric was aware of that.  It was the reason he’d been dragged back to the haus, and all-but bullied into the shower.  And it wasn’t like he didn’t want to get a date—or a hook-up, whatever.  It was high time he started at least attempting to live with a foot outside the closet he’d carefully constructed for himself, especially when it seemed safe enough.  It didn’t stop the anxiety, but he used the nervous energy to put more effort into his outfit, his hair, and then into a bunch of mini-pies he was going to serve as apps for people who stopped by.

Assuming they lasted five minutes with the team who all seemed to appear as if by magic to devour—or if they were Jack, and appeared by magic to glower until Eric caught fire.

All the same, it was dark, and music started pumping from all the houses up and down the street.  Someone in the haus threw a playlist on that began thumping heavy with Nicki Minaj which Eric started to move his hips to, in spite of still feeling a little…obvious.  But there were people all over now, filling stacks and stacks of red solo cups for beer pong, and cracking boxes of the cheapest, shittiest wine, and filling old, discarded water bottles with the toxic green tub juice to pass round.

“Go easy on Shitty’s shit,” Holster said, slinging his arm round Eric.  “He hasn’t actually killed anyone with that shit yet, but since you’re our little frog…”

“I am not a fucking freshman,” Eric snarled.

Holster ignored him.  “…we don’t want you to get alcohol poisoning.”

Eric sighed.  “Yeah, whatever.  It doesn’t exactly look appetising, does it?”

Holster shrugged, then slammed his can of PBR and threw it across the room.  It hit a poster which said, ‘Be Better’ in bold letters—apart from some sharpie graffiti in the shape of dicks—and then clattered to the floor.

“So is this a normal Thursday night for y’all?” Eric asked after some time.  “I mean…I just pictured this more of a Friday night thing and…”

“Nah,” Holster said, and hip-checked Bitty gently.  “There’s enough MOT on the team we don’t do shit for Shabbat.”

Eric blinked like Holster was speaking a foreign language.  “Um.”

“Which reminds me, holy fucking shit.  Do you bake like… bread and shit?  Because I swear to god I would kill for some challah French toast Saturday mornings.  Seriously, I would be in your debt forever.”

Eric shrugged, completely unsure what that was but all the same, he hadn’t met a recipe he couldn’t master.  Hated—yes.  Cheesecake as possibly the biggest bane of his existence, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t the most buttery, crumbly, delicious cheesecake known to man.  “Just get me a recipe, hun, and I’ll see what I can do.”

That answer apparently earnt Bitty a trip round the party on Holster’s shoulders.  It should have been absurd and a little insulting, being carried like a child, but Eric was just tipsy enough to enjoy it.

After the trip round, Ransom found them, pushed another crappy beer into Bitty’s hands, then said, “Let’s go raid the drama house.  They have bomb as fuck mixed drinks.  One of their tech guys is a chem major and he does this crazy shit with their drinks.  Molecular gastronomy, bro.  It’ll change your life.”

Eric had no real reason to refuse, so he allowed himself to be sandwiched between the two giant men, and carried off down the street.

***

The drama house was a little bigger than the baseball one—and definitely had a more Victorian aesthetic to it.  It was better maintained, and strangely decorated, but had all the markings of university students with too much time on their hands right before term started.

There was a massive hookah in the centre of the main room, surrounded by giant poufs, and no shortage of people puffing on the long tubes.  Bitty could smell something very fragrant—fruity almost, like cherry, coming out of the smoke.  Ransom steered him away, and into a large kitchen where, in less than four minutes, he’d consumed three sort of blobby “drinks” which were filled with juice, vodka, and the third one with something that made him blow out a huge puff of cold smoke at the end.

“Am I fucking right, or am I right?” Ransom said as he sucked down some squared gelatine thing.  He shivered, let out a, “hooofuck,” and slammed his fist on the table.  “I’m going to be so fucking wasted tonight.”

“Ch’yeah you are.”  Holster held up his hand, and Ransom high-fived it.

Eric took a step back away from the table as they continued to survey the goods, and backed up until he collided with something solid, and laughing.  He turned, his face pink from both alcohol and embarrassment, and found him staring up into an attractive face.  The guy was pretty broad, chiselled features, a large nose, curly brown hair.  His dark eyes were rimmed with heavy kohl, and he was wearing a weirdly tailored suit and had a top-hat tucked under his arm.

“Uh,” Eric said.

The guy laughed, shifting the hat behind his back.  “If I told you I didn’t dress or act like this under normal circumstances, would you believe me?”  Eric was momentarily distracted by his accent, which sounded familiar, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

It took him a moment to remember he was supposed to answer questions when asked them directly.  “Oh.  Hah.  I mean, maybe not?  This is the drama house after all, and I remember all y’all from school.”

The guy laughed, leaning into Eric’s space.  “Do you?”

Eric shrugged, flushing.  He turned his head only when he heard Ransom and Holster furiously whispering to each other and smacking each other on the arms.  Ransom gave him a thumb’s up, then they carefully started backing away.

“Your friends?” the guy asked.

“Teammates,” Eric said, groaning.  “Morons.  I mean, lovable, wonderful morons, but…”

“Justin and Adam,” the guy said, and when Eric looked surprised, he shrugged.  “I had a bio class with them last year and it was…interesting.  Good guys.”

Eric nodded.  “I’m uh…Eric, by the way.  Eric Bittle?”  He extended his hand, then held his breath for a second out of fear he was going to get laughed at or rejected.

But the guy only took a second to take it—after swiping his own hand on the side of his jeans.  His palm was warm, and not too sweaty in spite of the claustrophobic heat from all the student bodies, and it squeezed tight.  “Finley Edwards.  It’s nice to meet you, Eric Bittle.”

“The uh…the team calls me Bitty, apparently.  Just so um…so if you hear that…”  He flushed.  “It’s not because of my size.”

“Wouldn’t have thought it.”  Finley winked.  “You can call me Fin, the rest of these shitheads do, but I’m not really bothered either way so…”  He trailed off with a shrug.

Eric realised they were still holding hands, and very carefully pulled his away.  He reached out blindly, searching for one of the strange drinks, and Finley laughed, going round him and grabbing two very bright orange spheres.

“Here.  It’ll get you pissed good and proper.”

Eric knew he should probably ask what was in it, but he was already near drunk from the stuff Ransom and Holster had given him before, and he was feeling extra…friendly, in a way.  He popped the sphere into his mouth and laughed when it popped, sending a rush of an almost mango flavour down his throat.

He caught himself staring right at Finley’s smiling eyes, and he had a feeling his night was going to get…very interesting.

***

Eric woke up in his bed, face-down on his pillow, boiling hot from a stream of sun coming through the open curtains.  It was midday, by the look, though Eric’s entire body was begging for at least twenty-four hours of more rest.  Or possibly another week.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he attempted to remember what had happened after he, Ransom, and Holster had left the haus to wander.  He recalled the drama frat—the strange hookah, and the weird drinks.  Then he remembered the cute boy with nice eyes who’d given him something very fruity.

And…

If he was remembering right, a few more things that were fruity.  Then there had been hands on his hips, and really weird music playing—like Enya.  Interpretive dancing?

“Oh, hell,” Eric groaned into his pillow.  Trying to recall anything was just making his head hurt.  And as nice as staying in bed and sleeping until he felt like a real boy once more instead of the wooden puppet this drinks had turned him into sounded, he knew that wasn’t an option.  He had to verify all of his classes, and see if there were any clubs or organisations he wanted to join.

He had promised himself he’d join at least one LGBT+ club this year, and he didn’t want to miss any of the chances to see what was out there.  Fresher week only came once a year, and while Baseball was going to take up a lot of his time, he wanted to embrace who he was.  It was time to stop being the sole, lonely gay boy in a group of frat bros who never talked about anything except girls.

With a sigh, Eric pushed out of his bed, grimacing at the smell coming out of his skin, like he was literally sweating out all the old alcohol from his pores.  He fumbled into his half-unpacked wardrobe, found a decent pair of shorts and t-shirt with Samwell Baseball printed across the front, found a clean enough towel, and shuffled into the bathroom.

He was grateful none of the haus seemed to be up yet, and he set his phone on the back of the toilet, shuffling his playlist to his Beyonce Morning Wake-Up, and hit play.  The water came out hot, and as he began to slough off the night before, he began to wake up.

“…can see your halo, halo, halooooo,” he sang along.

He lathered the thick, creamy lush soap he’d scored right before heading up to Samwell, and began to rub the loofah across his skin.  His eyes closed, and he let his temple fall against the tiles that were still cool.  “…I ain’t never gonna shut you out…”

His high note ended on a yelp when the shower curtain was unceremoniously ripped to the side, and he was staring into Jack Zimmermann’s angry face.  His eyes were red, dark, his free hand curled into a fist at his side.

The panic only lasted a second, and then Eric became immediately indignant.  “I…am…showering!”

“It’s eight in the morning, Bittle,” Jack hissed, then a long stream of French, the tone making it obvious none of them were polite phrases.

“Jack Laurent, will you let me bathe…”

“Stop singing Justin Beiber or whatever…”

Eric felt his heart race, and he cupped water into his hands, splashing it at Jack while shouting, “Don’t you dare blaspheme in my shower…”

“Stop splashing me with water!” Jack yelled back, then slammed the curtain back and stormed out.

Shaking with fury, Eric hurried through the rest of his shower, grabbing his towel and stomping back into his room.  He had just pulled up his boxers when the door opened, and he let out a yelp when Johnson wandered in, his face scruffy, eyes sleepy and half-lidded.

“Lord have mercy, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”  Eric gave his sternum a perfunctory pat, and smiled to let Johnson know he was not serious.

“Jack giving you a hard time?” Johnson said as he flopped onto his bed.

Eric shrugged and eased into his shorts, then pulled his shirt over his head.  “Reckon he’s like that with everyone.”

Johnson made a considering humming noise, then said, “There are a few AUs where things are good from the start.  The classic bakery, you know, heart eyes being made over the counter, flirting.  Sometimes you don’t have to work as hard for the endgame.  But you’ll get there.  Enemies to lovers trope is far more satisfying when you have true character growth.  Canon gives it to us.  This AU is trying to follow that.”

“Uh.”  Eric blinked at him, then realised Johnson had probably come from Shitty’s room.  He’d heard the same random stoned ramblings from plenty of dormmates back in Georgia.  “Thanks, Johnson.  Anyway I gotta head down to the quad, but I’ll see you later?”

“Entirely likely, Bits.  My narrative isn’t done just yet.”  He winked just before Eric shut the door and headed out.

***

Eric enjoyed the time to himself that afternoon.  He made Annie’s his first stop, ordering the largest white mocha they had on the menu, then went down to the massive spread of tables, banners, and tents.  It had been a long time since he bothered with this—even in his freshman year he’d been too afraid to set foot outside the carefully constructed boundaries he’d given himself, but here was different.

There weren’t any of his daddy’s boys looking over his shoulder, waiting to report back on his son’s homosexual activities.  Eric wasn’t even entirely sure his parents would care that he was gay—or at the very least he was pretty sure they had some idea.  The boys on Coach’s team hadn’t exactly been quiet about what they thought of Eric Bittle.  But his parents operated under a very careful Don’t Ask Don’t Tell policy which Eric wasn’t sure he cared to live with anymore.

Though even at his age, with proof behind him he was a good athlete and an okay student, the idea of coming out out was still as terrifying as some quarterback in high school finding him necking one of the marching band under the bleachers.

So.

It as a delicate balance, really.

Within an hour, the morning was getting warm—a little muggy from a late-season storm a few days prior.  He was glad for the shorts, even if his pockets were a little too full with informational pamphlets, bookmarks he was never going to use, and a couple of buttons he figured would probably get lost before he even made it back to the haus.

But he found the table he’d been looking for.  There was a painted mural on thin paper erected with every LGBT+ flag, a small iPod dock blaring out some sort of pop music Eric didn’t recognise, and what shouldn’t be surprising at all, was the sight of Shitty—shirtless, wearing very short shorts in the ace flag colours.

He had on his aviators, his stache combed to perfection, and was shaking his hips to the beat of the music.  When he saw Eric, he threw his arms out and shouted, “Incoming!”

Eric had only a second to brace himself, and his coffee, before Shitty was hauling him into a spinning hug.

“Fuck yeah, Bits.  I was hoping I’d see you today.  I mean, I was gonna ask you about it later anyway, but we throw some fucking killer parties through the year, and pride…”  Shitty swiped a finger under his left eye.  “It’s a thing of beauty, Bits.  Beauty.”

“Ah, uh,” Eric said, rubbing the back of his neck.  “I mean yeah.  I didn’t get to, you know, back in Georgia so…”

“Put this cute lil fucker’s name down,” Shitty said, pointing to a girl behind the table.

She rolled her eyes, but wrote the name as Shitty spelt it out, and then went back to talking to another girl who was leaning into her space with a wide grin.

Shitty grinned and threw his arm round Eric’s waist.  “So.  How was your first night as an official Wellie?”

Eric shrugged.  “Um.  It was okay.  I think I drank too much—didn’t do anything I regret.  I hope.  Met a cute boy though at the drama house who…”

“Finley,” Shitty said, nodding sagely.  “He was here earlier asking if you’d turned up.  Told me to give you this.  He said Holster had to carry you home before he could get your digits.”

Eric stared down at the paper with the neat block lettering spelling out Finley’s name, and his number.  He took it, then shoved it into his pocket.  “Thanks.  Um…how was your night?”

“Ah, not bad, not bad my dude.  Jack came down and had his bitch-fit round midnight, chased everyone out.  But it was pretty good.  Just wait til Lards gets back.”

“Lards,” Eric repeated.

“Team manager, fucking beast, beer pong champ, all around greatest human being that ever lived.  Lardo runs the team.  Even Jack chills out round them.  Plus they can literally drink the entire football team under the table and for that, they’re a national treasure.”

Eric couldn’t help a laugh.  “So I guess it’s not just me Jack hates.”

Shitty blew out a puff of air.  “Look, Bits.  You need to understand he’s…”

“I heard about the whole Bad Bob thing.  Or well…whatever Holster and Ransom wanted to share.”  Eric shrugged.  “It’s…fine. He doesn’t have to like me.”

“Jack’s kind of a purist.  It happens in Baseball, you know?  People don’t really become fans, they’re born into it.  It’s…”  Shitty shrugged and leant against the table, crossing his feet at the ankles.  “When you have a reputation like Bob Zimmermann to live up to, it’s gonna fuck a guy up, you know?  And the worst part is, Bob doesn’t give a shit whether or not Jack’s any good, but Jack has a hard time seeing past that.  His entire life has somehow revolved round this game, and Bob’s the centre of it.  Objectively, Jack loves his dad, but…with all that shit…”

“I get it,” Eric said.  “Trust me, I get it.  The whole…dad and expectations and knowing no matter what you do it’s never going to be what he wants or…or what you think he wants.  And every time you try and ask it’s…”  Eric cleared his throat.  “Anyway, I get it.  I don’t get the whole pitcher thing but…”

“Ah.  That’s…more complicated.  Probably best not to discuss shit like that here.  He’ll warm up, okay?  He’s a good guy, Jackabelle.  He and I are ride or die, and we have been since freshman year.  He cares about the team, it’ll show once we get going.”

Eric nodded, then offered Shitty a smile.  “Thanks.  That…actually helped.”  And he was slightly surprised he meant it.

***

Eric spent most of the day on campus—meeting with his advisor, then wandering through the buildings to find each of his classes for the coming Monday.  He had lunch at a place called Jerry’s, waved at a few of the frogs on the team who looked like they were doing the same thing, then went and sat by the lake for a while and relaxed.

It was late afternoon when he wandered back, and he walked into the haus to find Holster throwing the cushions of two of the sofas in the air, frantically searching for something.

“Honey, what are you doing?” Eric asked, leaning against the wall.

Holster turned back.  “I need my lucky tie pin.  It’s…way too long to explain, but I fucking let Ransom use it for five seconds and now it’s gone and…”

“Got it!” came Ransom’s shout.  He came down the stairs dressed in trousers, a button up shirt, freshly showered and smelling nice.  He ruffled Eric’s hair as he passed by him, tossing the tie pin to Holster who quickly pinned it to his forest green tie.

Eric opened his mouth to ask what they were dressed up for when suddenly Jack appeared at the top of the stairs, looking unfairly attractive in his coal coloured trousers and shirt so blue it made his eyes almost pale.  His hair was combed pristinely, and he smelt, if possible, even better than Ransom.

His eyes flickered over Eric’s form, then he huffed and brushed past him.  “Hurry up.  We’re going to be late and I’m not getting bad seats because the two of you can’t get your shit together for five minutes.”

Holster rolled his eyes as Jack stormed out of the room.  “I’d say he’ll chill out, but…he probably won’t.”

“Where uh…where y’all headed?” Eric asked as Holster reached for what looked like a folded up bit of fabric that was sat on the back of the tv.  His eyes widened as he watched Holster unfold it, and he recognised it immediately.

“Normally we go Saturday mornings,” Holster said, ducking his head so Ransom could help him affix the kippah.  “But the first Shabbat of the year we always do Friday night services,” Holster said.  “Oh!”  He shoved Ransom away, then dug into his other pocket and shoved a bit of paper at Eric before grabbing him by the collar.  “I swear to god I will dedicate my entire life to you if you can make this.  Rans and I went to Murder Stop’n Shop and got everything you should need.  And youtube probably has like a hundred tutorials.”

Eric gave Holster’s arm a pat.  “I’ve got your back, hon,” he said, then peered at the paper.  It was a recipe for some type of braided bread, which shouldn’t be any trouble at all.  “It’ll give me somethin’ to do.”

Holster kissed his cheek.  “I fucking love you.  Anyway we’d better go before Jack has a rage stroke.”  He backed up, then fumbled for his shoes, and shoved Ransom toward the door.

Minutes later, the three of them were walking down the pavement, and Eric was alone in the kitchen.  With a sigh, he glanced at the counter where a bag of flour, pot of honey, and packets of yeast sat.  Swiping his hands on his jeans, he figured he’d might as well get to work.

***

When the dough was proving, Eric sat at the counter, his legs swinging on the too-tall barstool, and he had his phone in his hands.  On the screen, Finley’s number was typed in the contact, and half a message was composed in the outgoing message block.

Hey, it’s Eric Bittle, from the party.  I think I should probably be embarrassed about what happened, but I guess it wasn’t too bad if you sent me your number through Shitty.  I was wondering…

Eric sighed at the phone, then at himself, then at the Universe.

…do you want to get……maybe we could……I was thinking we might…

He let his head fall forward on the counter.

“Hey, Bitty?”

Eric’s head snapped up to see Chris Chow peering hesitantly round the doorway to the kitchen.  When Eric smiled, Chris stepped into the kitchen, one hand shoved into the pocket of his jeans.

“You okay?”

Eric groaned, letting his phone fall onto the counter with a too-loud clatter.  “Oh just…boy trouble.”

Chris nodded sympathetically.  “I thought college was going to be more like the movies.  Which I guess that party kind of was?  But I woke up feeling like I wanted to die, and I’m not sure how I’m going to live like that and play baseball.”

Eric couldn’t help his snort of laughter.  “I guess it all comes down to figuring out moderation, right?”

Chris smiled.  “Yeah.  My brother warned me.  I should have listened.  Maybe I should have started drinking younger, built up a tolerance.”

Eric laughed.  “Lord, that’s one way to handle it.  I think you’ll be alright though, hon.  Did you…did you need something?  Are you hungry?”

“Oh I…”  Chris’ eyes flickered over the floured counter.  “Are you baking?”

“Some bread Holster asked for,” Eric said absently.  “But I could really go for a nice grilled cheese.  How about I make us some?”

Chris’ face softened with a grin.  “If you don’t mind…”

“It’ll help keep my mind off this mess I got myself into.  Maybe I should’ve done like you said.  Spent more time texting cute boys so I could build up my humiliation tolerance.”

“Oh,” Chris said, frowning.  “Can I help?”

Eric sighed, then hopped off the stool and got to work pulling bread, butter, and cheeses from the fridge.  “You know, I don’t think so.  This is something I’ll have to figure out on my own.  But I sure wouldn’t mind a distraction.  How do you feel about Chopped kids?”

Chris’ eyes widened.  “I mean, apart from the fact that how the hell do these kids know how to cook better than I can play ball?”

Eric laughed, and clapped Chris on the shoulder.  “Exactly.  Come on, let’s eat our feelings in cheesy bread, and feel inferior to a bunch of eight year olds.”

***

Compared to the photos online, the challah looked about right, but it was done well before the others got home.  Eric half considered staying up, but wandered to his room instead.  Johnson was missing—again, so Eric put his headphones on and curled up in his bed.

The message was still half-composed, and everything he could think of made him sound like an idiot.  But he wanted to be brave.  He didn’t even know if he wanted to date someone like Finley—he’d been too drunk to really have any clue what he was like, but he remembered liking him well enough at the party.

And maybe it was time to be brave.

Straight people had bad dates—made stupid relationship mistakes all the time.  He was owed a few.  He was owed some awkward conversation, and bad kissing, and personality clashes.  He wasn’t going to lose his gay card because he couldn’t find forever with the first guy who smiled at him.

He took a breath, then grabbed his phone to finish the text.

…I know Monday’s the first day of lecture, but would you want to grab dinner or coffee or something where we aren’t completely wasted?

He hit send, and flopped back onto his pillow.  One hand covered his face, and he breathed through his anxiety.  A minute later, his phone buzzed, and it was by miracle alone he didn’t fling it across the room and against the wall.

He bit his lip as he swiped the screen open, and he felt a smile threaten to crack his face in half as he read the reply.

No worries, cariad, I thought you were really cute.  Coffee sounds great.  I don’t have much on Friday.  Want to see me then?

Eric felt his heart beating fast and furious against his ribs as he scrambled to text back.  I absolutely want to see you then.


It had been a long, long week.

As Kuroo’s last lab for the day wrapped up, he felt exhausted, with the tiredness seeping deep into his bones. The class had run on for longer than he’d expected it to, and spending around 5 hours hunched over a cadaver would wear anyone out. His eyes prickled both with the leftover effects of exposure to formalin and an oncoming wave of fatigue.

Kuroo disposed of his used gloves, packed up his lab gown, and headed towards the nearest restroom to freshen up and get his bearings before making the commute home. It wouldn’t do for him to fall asleep on the train and miss his stop, especially during the Friday rush hour.

He washed his hands and splashed water on his face, slapping his cheeks a few times to wake himself up.

Alright, good enough to go.

As he made his way out of the building, he checked his phone. He had an invitation from some schoolmates to go out to drink, which he briefly considered. It wouldn’t hurt to meet up with a few friends, chug back some beers, and spend the night bitching over their copious amounts of schoolwork and terror professors.

Not too bad an idea, he could use some unwinding after a hard week.

Keeping that option in mind, he looked over his other messages, which included a check-up from his father, asking he’d go home on that weekend, and a selfie from Bokuto in the middle of training, his smiling face and peace sign framing a pissy-looking Miya Atsumu and a laughing Hinata.

Both messages made him smile fondly at his phone. He replied to his dad, telling him he’d stay at his apartment for the weekend to study, but promised to make it home next week.

Kuroo made an exaggerated sad face and angled his phone below his chin to take a selfie to send back to Bokuto, captioning it with a  miss u tons bro , which summed up their friendship these days. He didn’t get to see him in person often, but he really appreciated being able to keep up with Bokuto’s life and career through texts, chats, and social media.

Small things like stupid selfies made him feel a little lighter after a tiring day.

He decided not to take up his classmates on the offer for drinks. This week wasn’t too kind on his mental health, and right now, he didn’t have the energy in him to socialize. Despite his obnoxious personality and generally outgoing disposition, he was an introvert at his very core, and his social battery had finally run out.

All that was left on his phone were a string of messages from Kenma, who was more than used to Kuroo not replying to him for extended periods of time. Over a decade of knowing each other rendered a certain level of ghosting insignificant. There was no rush or pressure in their relationship, not here, not now, and not ever.

When Kuroo entered medical school and started to go MIA at times due to the sheer amount of work, Kenma hadn’t made an issue out of it. Their relationship evolved as they did, and Kuroo appreciated him so much. It made life a lot easier to not have to add relationship stress on top of everything else.

Kenma’s messages were a string of memes he thought Kuroo would find funny, an article about an upcoming game they were both looking forward to, and a link to his latest youtube video, which was another Animal Crossing video. He’d probably ask if he could visit his island later.

Just as Kuroo was about to reply, another message popped up.

who tf is kodzuken

r u home?

rip kuro he dead

lab just ended :( tired :( otw 2 train station
 i want 2 die!!!!!

who tf is kodzuken

u always want 2 die

rip kuro he dead

med school sucks kenma!!!!!
im gonna quit and become ur kept man

who tf is kodzuken

kuro uve said this 3 times this week alone

rip kuro he dead

fuck being a doctor u can be my sugar daddy
i think id be an excellent sugar baby

who tf is kodzuken

u dont have the face for it

rip kuro he dead

RUDE
roasted by my own bf .i cant believe

When Kenma didn’t reply as quickly as he usually did, Kuroo shrugged and pocketed his phone. He was lucky enough to get to the station right as his train arrived, and was even able to score a seat before it got too crowded. Small mercies. He took out his phone again to listen to a podcast during the ride home, when he noticed that Kenma had replied.

who tf is kodzuken

i have to keep u humble somehow

rip kuro he dead

ugh

who tf is kodzuken

what time do u think ull be home

rip kuro he dead

idk 20 mins or so??

who tf is kodzuken

k same

rip kuro he dead

???

Well, it certainly wouldn’t be the first time they spontaneously decided to see each other. In fact, one could argue that their entire friendship was based around just randomly hanging out. Now that they were adults and lived a little further than a stone’s throw away from each other, they both got terribly lonely. Even Kenma, the homebodiest of homebodies, got bored enough to venture out to see his boyfriend.

who tf is kodzuken

<3

Suddenly, a little bit of that heavy feeling faded away. Kuroo smiled at the message and closed his eyes, leaning his head against the window, relaxing a bit to the hum of the train.

…

Kuroo got home to the smell of cooked fish and apple pie. A weird combination, but It smelled like love. Smiling, he opened the door to Kenma putting down a plate of grilled sanma on the table. He wasn’t surprised to see his boyfriend, they both had the spare keys to each others’ apartments.

“Hey,” Kuroo said, sidling up to Kenma to wrap his arms around his shoulder and gave a kiss on the head, “When’d you get here?”

Kenma gave him a small smile and turned around to kiss his cheek. “Just a few minutes before you got here,” he said, untangling himself from Kuroo’s hold to take the apple pie he had brought out of the plastic bag.

“Wow, both of our favourite foods? What good thing did I do recently to deserve this?”

Kenma frowned at him, pushing him towards a chair then sitting down next to him. “You didn’t do anything,” he said, then paused. “You don’t  have  to do anything. You deserve to treat yourself sometimes.”

Kuroo laughed and rested his head on Kenma’s shoulders. “I know… It’s just hard, sometimes,” he sighed.  “I’m tired. I don’t feel like I’m doing anything right.” He closed his eyes, taking in Kenma’s scent, letting the feeling of comfort take him over.

Kenma stroked his head, running his fingers through Kuroo’s messy hair. “You need to learn how to rest.” At this, Kuroo opened one eye to glare blearily at Kenma.

“I can’t believe I’m getting lectured about resting by the guy with three jobs.”

Kenma rolled his eyes and snorted, pushing him off his shoulder. “Food’s gonna get cold. Eat,” he said, “And my jobs require a minimal amount of daily effort. You can’t compare.”

Kuroo huffed and pointed his chopsticks at Kenma’s face, “You stay up working until, like, 4am!”

“Yeah, working… Playing video games, Kuro. My work is literally playing video games.”

“You have a company! And trade stocks!”

“I basically just tell people what to do. Often from home.” Kenma pushed Kuroo’s hand away from him. “And you also stay up working until 4am. Studying.”

“I do not,” Kuroo grumbled.

“Do too.”

“Do not!”

“Do. Too.”

“Do not.”

“Do. Too. Tetsurou.”

“Wow, bringing out the first name so soon.” Kuroo laughed and threw his hands up, “Ugh, fine. Maybe I do. Whatchu gon’ do about it, my little kitty?”

Kenma rolled his eyes at him again, “Don’t be gross, Kuro.”

Then, quietly: “I’ll take care of you, obviously.”

Kuroo paused with chopsticks halfway raised towards his mouth. He blinked, “Sorry, what was that?” he asked, starting to smile.

Kenma looked away, but the tips of his ears started to turn red. Kuroo put his chopsticks down and wrapped his arms around Kenma’s shoulders and nuzzled his face, cooing.

“What’s that? Does my baby care about meeeeeee?”

Huffing, Kenma put a hand on Kuroo’s face, shoving him away. “Can you just eat?” He turned back to his own plate and shoved food in his mouth so he wouldn’t have to talk.

Kuroo rested his face on his hand and stared fondly at Kenma, whose cheeks were a delightful shade of pink. He reached out and poked his cheek, squeezing it lightly. “I love you.”

Kenma swatted his hand away, still not looking up from his plate. “I know.”

“I can’t wait to live with you.”

They had decided, when Kuroo graduated college, that they would wait until he was in his fourth year of med school to live together. Kuroo had actually wanted to move in together right away, but Kenma had told him that it would be better for him to spend the first few years adjusting, focusing, and finding his footing. Despite his busy schedule now, they’d still be able to find time to see each other on the weekends.

By his fourth year, he would be a medical clerk and working in the hospital instead of studying. Sharing an apartment by then would be easier money-wise, and since hospital work basically meant working all days of the week, Kenma would be able to spend time with him whenever Kuroo would get home.

Until then, they’d have to deal with a bit of distance between them. It was nothing that the wonders of technology, a few train rides, and date nights couldn’t fix, but sometimes that gap felt unbearable to Kuroo. Sure, sometimes it was easier to have to only think about himself, especially when his mind was being pulled in a thousand different directions at once, but times like these, when he’d be exhausted and needy, he longed for his boyfriend’s presence.

Kenma finally looked up from his plate to reach out to put his hand over Kuroo’s. “I know,” he said, smiling softly, “I love you.”

Kuroo smiled back, and felt a wave of contentment wash over him.

“Anyway, did Bo send you that selfie with Hinata? I really want to be able to watch a jackals game soon--”


“So… um. Here I am…”

Hecate Lampadephoros is a little girl with a great, grand name that hangs over her like a wreath of laurels. No more than fourteen years by five feet she stands like an empress, crowned by the light brown roots of hair otherwise colored by minty-green dye. She wears a black school uniform with pink leggings underneath, not exactly regal, with only one flash of gold - the badge on her chest glitters in the light and is covered up quickly by a book. A book she hugs very, very tightly. The Good Witch Azura - Volume Five. She coughs to clear her throat and then begins.

“I didn’t really have much of a choice about coming here. It was this or therapy - I mean regular therapy - and I don’t…” Hecate’s eyes pass over Dad and the Flying Rooster. “Um, yeah. So, anyways, this wasn’t my idea. Whatever. Might as well make the best of it, I guess.”

Instead of a spotlight, a movie fragment; Hecate as a young child and another girl with chubby cheeks and round glasses and darker hair, playing with dolls on the floor. The pictures of other children - a boy and a girl - decorate the room and hall beyond it. The kids in the photographs look a little like Hecate Lampadephoros, but more like each other. There aren’t nearly as many pictures of her.

“I have an older brother and sister. They’re twins and Mom’s favorites. They were born really sickly and premature. That happens a lot with multiples. It looked like they wouldn’t make it for a while, but they did and that was a ‘miracle’ so everything they do seems like a miracle… and I’ll never measure up to that.”

Hecate cracks open a school book as thick as the length of her child-sized thumb… and finds scribbles on the pages. Her face turns a bright, apple red. Malicious giggling echoes down the hall.

MOM!

Oh, you know they’re just playing, dear.

But my boo-

Honestly, Amity, we can buy you a new one.

“They get away with murder - I love them, but they do - I never caused that much trouble and I still always had to move heaven and earth just to get half the attention that they did. It’s lucky that I’m good with school.”

Two A papers tacked to the refrigerator. An A+ report card on Hecate’s bedroom wall. She sits beneath it, pen in hand and with a book spread open on her knees. Notes are taken furiously.

“I like to think of myself as an academic.”

That bespectacled friend from childhood approaches her in the halls.

Uh… hey, Amity.

Hecate pushes her aside. Sorry, she says, I don’t have time for morons.

There’s a crumpled up D in the other girl’s hands.

“The girl that… um… the reason that… I’m…” Hecate Lampadephoros chews her lip and rubs her arms up and down. “She wasn’t so much - gifted, I mean. My… the… girl… the reason that I’m here…”

High school banners in blue and gold. New faces at the start of the year and a newer one still part way through it. A girl with brown skin and eyes and a cat-eared sweatshirt pulled over her short, dark hair. A beaker bursts in science class, drenching her in purple goo.

“It was a classmate of mine. I think she’d been kicked out of her last school or something.” Something bizarrely like fondness lights in Hecate’s eyes for a moment. “I believe it. She was kind of… distracting. Kind of weird.”

The girl with the cat ears eats lunch with the friend Hecate has discarded and with another, younger boy (a grade-skipper). She talks with her hands and bounces in place and above all is loud and does not know it. Cut; that same girl gives a book report with action figures and live snakes and lands herself in the principal’s office. Cut; the girl with cat ears flips her eyelids in front of the cheerleading team.

“I think she had ADHD. Something like that. Most of our teachers didn’t really like her. I didn’t either… not at first.”

Hecate turns up her nose when the other girl smiles at her in the hall. This turns to tripping and to shoving, and to high pitched giggling just barely muffled by her hands. Her hand snakes out and slaps a book from cat-ears’. It hits the ground with a loud CRACK and lands face up. The Good Witch Azura - Volume Five.

“I wasn’t the nicest to her… okay, I admit it, I was a bully. No, I really was. I’m not just saying that. And I know that doesn’t make what happened my… Uh, I was pretty awful to everyone for a while. Almost everyone…”

Hecate Lampadephoros reads from a storybook to a group of young children gathered at her feet. Unseen, the girl from school watches, having stumbled in.

“I volunteer sometimes, at the local library. I read to the really little kids. Annnnd my siblings show up there just to annoy me. They ran into her one of those times. She thought they were cool, I guess…”

“Cool” is one way to describe it. Hecate’s classmate’s whole face heats up when the older brother and then sister wink. She follows after them like a puppy on their heels, and snickers when they tease Hecate, turning her face apple-red with embarrassment.

“They didn’t last long. They got into some trouble. Their fault, mostly… they’re not a great influence.”

Hecate watches as her older siblings and the girl from her school run about and run amok, knocking things over and disturbing the peace. There’s no ill intent in it, but that doesn’t stop her from seeing it there.

“So the library is really old and really big and has a lot of places you can kinda get lost in. I found this room one time, behind the wall, and I kinda set up my own little place there. Yeah, this is important. It’s part of the story…”

Hecate retreats to a nook where no one can see her. A cozy lamplit area with a desk and hundreds of books, neatly arranged on the shelves. The Good Witch Azura printed on four purple spines.

“It was supposed to be a secret, but somehow my siblings found out about it.”

The library after hours. Hecate stays to clean up and hears a noise. Someone has come in like a hurricane. Papers are scattered everywhere. Books have been knocked off shelves.

“They snuck in at night, looking for my diary… I kept getting them in trouble at school - for cutting class mostly - and I guess they wanted revenge. Their plan was to post the pages online where everyone would see them. And she was there too.”

Hecate Lampadephoros throws a door open; sees her sister and brother laughing in that mean-spirited way she knows so well; sees the girl from her school scrambling to pick up diary pages on the floor.

Amity! This isn’t what it looks like-

“And it wasn’t. I was angry, but I know that now. She caught up with me before I could make it out the door. Words were said… a lot of words.”

The girl with the cat-ear sweatshirt starts to apologize and persists even after Hecate tries to cut her off. She speaks quickly, tripping over her words, but she makes her listen. She is heard.

“I helped her clean up the mess my siblings left behind after all that. By the time we left it was almost dawn.”

Wait! the girl calls as Hecate walks by her. She reaches into her bag and pulls out a book. I know it doesn’t make up for reading your diary, but… would you wanna borrow this? I notice you only had up to four.

Hecate Lampadephoros hugs the book in her arms. “I know the Azura books aren’t really considered highbrow, but I always liked them. She… leant this one to me.”

“Azura,” Hecate reads aloud. “Our paths have crossed only in battle but today I stand before you seeking an ally.”

“I keep feeling like I should give it back… I already did once.”

They meet at the mall, Hecate’s siblings trailing after them now, guilted into civility.

Hey, we should hang out sometime! the girl says as they separate. Just… you and me. She’s blushing.

So is Hecate. Um… yeah.

“She had… feelings for me. I didn’t feel the same way! I’m not a lesbian!” She says all of this very quickly. “I’m not! I swear! I just… I wanted to be nice. She was nice… um… yeah.”

A montage of sight and sound. Hecate Lampadephoros and her classmate at the beach together; going shopping; giggling over those five purple books. Her friend removes the hoodie and lets Hecate try it on.

And it’s Hecate that kisses her first.

“We were… friends, I think? Just… good friends. Nothing more.”

There is more. More kissing and hand-holding and sugar-on-spice. The saccharine sweetness that comes from the taste of first love. They never tell anyone about this.

Remind me why you don’t want me to tell Willow and Gus again?

You saw that stuff about… you know, that cult on the news. Some of those people are still out there… what do you think they would do to us…?

I-

And my parents! What would they say? No one can know, Luz! No one! Alright?

Okay! Okay! Can do! Hoodie girl salutes. Secret it is then!

“She wanted… she wanted us to… You know…”

They’re teenagers and adolescent hormones ride on the feelings between them. In sex-ed they stare at each other from across the room.

I… I think I wanna try something.

Something like…

Yeah.

The other girl’s face heats up. O-oh… Okay! When-

Tomorrow? After school? You can come home with me. My parents won’t be there.

“I mean… I guess that would have been fine. If she just had a crush on me. That’s… cool, but I’m not gay!”

Hecate leads hoodie girl up the drive, giggling nervously. They climb the stairs together and drop their school bags on the floor.

“I like boys! Not girls! Not her! I… tried to tell her that. But she… but… I… um…”

They’re too young to be doing what they’re doing and they don’t know how to do it, but when hands fumble, it’s Hecate that does the reaching and neither girl pulls away.

“… she didn’t listen to me,” Hecate says hollowly. “I said no.”

On the tape, a door opens.

Mittens?

The girls freeze. Hecate’s siblings stand in the doorway, stifling laughter.

Oh, wait till Mom hears about this. They tear off, laughing, down the hall.

Wait! Hecate goes to stop them, turning back to the other girl as she gets to her feet. You… you need to go.

But Amity-

Just go! Before my parents get back!

Okay… She takes her leave quickly. So quickly that she forgets her things and leaves them lying on the floor.

“My siblings… um… they saw what… they walked in while we were- while she was… you know…” Hecate keeps her eyes on the floor. “They… thought I wanted…”

Hey, Mittens, her sister says at the dinner table, watching Hecate pick at her food. What’s wrong?

Not hungry? her brother smirks, reaching his fork towards her plate. Guess you’re full from eating-

Shut up!

“They teased me about it at dinner. Our parents heard them… that’s how…”

Mittens has a girlfriend~ her sister singsongs.

The table goes quiet.

… What?

Hecate freezes, going stone cold still.

“They blabbed to Mom about what they’d seen us… about what they saw her do to me…”

Hecate Lampadephoros, frozen to her chair.

Oh, we saw them messing around together. Her brother snickers. Didn’t we?

Amity, is that true?

The mind’s eye opens like a great, gaping wound.

The Invader’s uncles on the news and whispers in the hallways that trace the outlines of a butch-looking girl with pink dye in her hair, a less butch one with blue, a feminine one with near-white hair beribboned in pink and purple, one who is not a girl with undyed blonde.

A run-in with the Professor at a local library. His legs seem unsteady and his eyes are very far away.

Pictures of robes and masks. The filtered words of the Gunman and the Avatar and of Ringtail crash like red-tide waves through her mind. Newspaper clippings that read EIGHT STILL AT LARGE.

“I… I know they wouldn’t have judged me for being… gay - even though I’m not. If I was, though… I think my family would be… okayish with it. I think… I’m sure they love me…”

A candlelight vigil. A round-faced man in a bright pink apron. His parents loved him too.

I… I didn’t want to! Her mouth opens before she can really process what’s coming out. I didn’t… I… She made me do it!

The room was already quiet. Now the silence stands still.

“They sent my siblings out of the room and had me explain it. I… my father kept yelling until he got a name.” She flinches slightly. “I think he might have gone to find her himself, but Mom said we needed to call the police.”

The officer that spoke to Bombyx Mori flicks on a tape recorder and asks Hecate questions in a gentler voice than he used with the boy. His hand on the table and hers in her lap, both the same shade of pale. Her parents speak for her, but she nods at all the right places or shakes her head, getting out few words longer than yes or no. Her stomach clenches as the realization of what she’s doing sinks in. Her mouth’s too dry to take it back.

“I went to a doctor afterwards and I think they sent someone to her house. This was after the whole, um, cops thing… which is good. She’s really not a bad person - she just made a mistake! And I know they would have hurt her if they’d gotten the chance. Wasn’t there one guy that really liked them young? And poor-ish. And… and not-white?”

Hecate Lampadephoros lies awake at night, worrying. She stays up until the dawn and falls asleep with the other girl’s bag beneath her pillow, clutching her hastily-abandoned book.

“I think her mom bailed her out or something… until the trial. That’s what I heard anyway.” Her lips press into a thread-thin line. “I went back to school on Monday. She wasn’t there.”

Hecate’s classmates don’t look at her strangely. No one whispers anything behind their hands. She’s rich and white and with parents that can keep things quiet and siblings that look too guilty to say a word. A teacher pulls her aside after class. She’s called to the counselor. Someone asks if everything’s alright and she says, in a vacant tone, I’m sure it will be. She goes to lunch and sees the empty spot at her former friend’s lunch table and knows that nothing will be for a very long time.

“So… there’s not really an ending. I don’t think it’s over yet. My… the girl that… Well, she… sort of disappeared. Ran away, I think. I don’t know where.”

That old friend with glasses and the grade-skipper boy come in late sometimes and leave early. Hecate sees them with bits and pieces of plant matter in their hair and mud on their shoes. Once she happens on them by accident, coming from the woods. They glare at her and she thinks that maybe the girl who owns the book in her bag might not have been so tight-lipped after all.

“I… This will probably sound crazy but hear me out. I kind of hope that they… don’t find her. That she stays away… that…” Hecate Lampadephoros shakes her head and runs her hand over Azura’s cover, her index finger hovering over the Five. “I don’t want this thing to go to trial! I didn’t want any of this at all.”


Authors note: All characters are above 18 years old and fictitious. Any similarity to a real person is purely coincidental.

*******************************************

Samantha Rushton grew up the youngest of four children in an affluent suburb of a mid sized city in the deep south. Following in her father's footsteps, after high school she went to Houston Texas to study architecture at one of the finest programs in the country.

In high school she competed on the women's cross country team. While she didn't compete in college she continued running to stay in shape. Sam, that's what everyone called her, stood 5'2" tall and weighed 105 pounds with shoulder length blonde hair, green eyes, 32D breasts a round firm bottom and, even though they were short, well toned legs.

Three weeks after her twentieth birthday and one week after returning home from her first year of college her parents left town for a long planned month long vacation in Europe. This was a chance for them to finally take a trip alone after raising four children. They were also going to visit Sam's sister Sarah who was two years older than Sam and studying psychiatry at the University of Munich. Sam was left at home house sitting. As her parents left for the airport her mother stopped to give her some final instructions.

"Don't have any wild parties, if you need anything call your grandmother and I've asked Carol next door to check on you from time to time." With that she hugged Sam, gave her a kiss on the cheek and was out the door.

The first couple of days passed by pretty routinely. Sam spent time swimming in the family pool, visiting with friends and running between five to ten miles each day. Friday night came and Sam was dreading the following week. Most of her friends were going to be out of town vacationing with their families and she didn't know how she was going to keep occupied. With nothing else to do she went to bed.

Awakening the following morning she went for a run. On her return home she showered, put on her bikini and took a dip in the family pool. Getting out of the pool Sam toweled off and reclined in a lounge chair to get some sun. She woke some time later and realized that she had not put on sunscreen. She wasn't burned yet but knew it would only be a matter of time. Getting up from the chair she went inside to find some tanning lotion. After looking in all the likely places with no success she went into her sister Sarah's bedroom.

Not finding any sunscreen in the attached bath she checked the closet. While feeling around on the shelf above the hanging clothes (it was too high for her to see what was up there) she touched what felt like a DVD case. Sam took it down and sure enough it was a case containing a single unlabeled DVD. Thinking this was odd because all the DVD's were usually kept in the entertainment room Sam was curious as to why this one was in her sisters closet. She took the DVD back to her bedroom and loaded it into the laptop. A large group of numbered icons appeared. Clicking on the first Sam was not expecting what she found.

There on the screen was her sister Sarah on one of the lounge chairs next to their backyard pool. She was smiling at the camera and was as naked as the day she was born. Eyes widening in surprise Sam couldn't believe what she was seeing. Her sister had always seemed so proper. Opening more of the icons revealed additional pictures of her sister either nude or in various states of undress. Sam also noticed that many of the pictures had not been taken at their home. There were pictures of her topless on a nearby golf course, at a tennis court and even her lifting her skirt and displaying a perfectly bald pussy in what appeared to be a local park.

Sam scrolled down to see just how many files were on the DVD and there appeared to be several hundred. There were also video files near the bottom. Clicking on the first one her sister was again naked by the pool. She was smiling and talking to someone behind the camera.

She was saying things like, "You really want to see me do this again don't you. You're so bad."

With that Sarah spread her legs and began slowly playing with her clit. Sam's eyes were glued to the screen as her sister became more vigorous finally reaching a climax and squirting all over the lounge chair.

When the video ended Sam's bikini bottoms were soaking wet and she was as aroused as she had ever been in her life. She immediately stripped off the wet bottoms, threw herself on the bed and began rubbing her clit furiously using her already flowing juices as lube. Sam came in less than a minute

As she lay on the bed catching her breath Sam tried to identify what it was that aroused her so. She concluded that it wasn't from any sexual desire for her sister but rather it was the fact that Sarah could be so uninhibited about her body. Wishing that she had as much confidence Sam began wondering whether she could be brave enough to try some of the things her sister had done.

Getting up from the bed Sam removed the bikini top then went into the bathroom and showered the sex from between her legs. After drying off she put on a long t-shirt that reached just below her bottom. Selecting a pair of panties she began to put them on then paused. Considering it for a moment she put the panties back in the drawer and headed to the kitchen for a bottle of water.

Standing in the kitchen sipping the water and looking out at the pool Sam had never really thought about how very secluded the backyard was. A high privacy fence and shrubs surrounded it making it impossible for anyone on the outside to see what was going on back there.

Taking a deep breath Sam stepped out the door. It was a warm sunny day with a gentle breeze blowing. Sam began to feel herself becoming wet again. She moved further into the backyard off the concrete surrounding the pool and into the grass. It felt cool and soft against her bare feet after the heat of the hard concrete. Taking a few more steps Sam sat down enjoying the feel of the grass against her bare bottom. She felt deliciously wicked and aroused.

After sitting for several minutes working up her nerve Sam's hands found the bottom of her shirt. She was trembling with excitement as she considered removing it. Afraid that if she didn't take it off now that she never would Sam quickly lifted it over her head and dropped it to the ground. It was like an electric charge passed through her body. She felt tingly all over, her nipples were hard as pebbles and her pussy felt like liquid fire.

Wanting to push herself further Sam stood. Leaving her shirt on the ground she began to wander naked around the back yard. It felt exhilarating and free. She also noticed that the farther away from her shirt she got the more her excitement grew.

After exploring the backyard for a while Sam was growing accustomed to being naked and the excitement was lessening. She realized that she would have to move outside the backyard to regain the intensity of the feeling. Sam gathered up her shirt and not bothering to put it back on went inside to plan her next adventure.

Sitting down at the computer Sam continued to look through her sisters pictures in an effort to gain some ideas of what to do next. While scrolling through the pictures she noticed that in none of them did her sister have any pubic hair. Sam had always kept hers neatly trimmed so it wouldn't show in a bikini but now she decided to take the next step and shave it bald. Never having done this before it took a little time but once finished she took a few minutes admiring her now clean shaven slit in the mirror. Running her fingers across her newly shaven mound she could resist no longer. She lay on her bed and brought herself to another orgasm drifting off to sleep afterward the late afternoon sun warming her still naked body through her bedroom window.

Sam awoke in darkness. According to the clock near her bed it was 11:45. The neighborhood in which she lived had few streetlights. The houses were built on larger than average lots and set well back from the road. The front yard had lots of shrubbery and landscaping so Sam decided her next adventure would be to explore the front yard as she had the back. She had been naked since her earlier backyard adventure but since it was now dark and she didn't want to injure her feet she decided to put on a pair of running shoes.

If anything the addition of the shoes made her even more excited since if she was seen it would be obvious that she was out nude on purpose. She also reasoned that the shoes would be helpful in the event she needed to make a quick escape. Leaving her room Sam went down the stairs through the kitchen and walked out the back door into the night. The cool of the evening instantly hardened her nipples as she walked past the pool to the side of the house.

Drawing near the gate to the privacy fence Sam again began to experience that wonderful fluttery feeling of excitement in her belly. Opening the gate slowly she peeked out at what she could see of the yard. Creeping forward she stayed close to the shrubbery planted beside the house. When she reached the corner of the house she paused to plan her next move.

A large oak tree was just off to her left about thirty feet in front of her. Sam made her way forward using the tree to conceal her from the street as much as possible. In the darkness it would have been almost impossible for anyone to see her but that didn't cross her mind as it was the first time she had ever done anything like this. Her excitement grew with each step she took.

Sam had decided that her goal for tonight would be to touch the mailbox at the street next to the one of the entrances of the "U" shaped driveway. To get there she had to cross in front of the house then work her way down the drive. There were bushes growing along the length of the road between the two entrances to the driveway and she felt that she could hide behind them if it became necessary.

Everything was going well until Sam reached the halfway point near the front door. Suddenly every exterior light on the house came on and she was standing fully illuminated for anyone who may have been looking. Sam froze for what seemed an eternity, although in truth is was only a few seconds, then dropped prone onto the asphalt parking pad in front of the house. Her mind was racing. Who was here that turned on the lights? Then it dawned on her. The lights had a motion sensor attached to them that activated when someone came within range. The worst part was that, once activated, they were programmed to stay on for ten minutes. That's when she heard the car approaching.

Sam lay there hearing the car drawing nearer and was unsure what to do. If the driver looked in her direction it would be hard to miss a naked girl spread eagle on the black asphalt of the parking pad under what felt like a million watts of illumination even with the shrubbery lining the road. At the last possible second she managed to get to her feet and raced back to the relative safety of the oak throwing herself behind it just a second before a police car came into view.

Sam lay on the ground behind the tree shaking and listened as the car continued down the street. As her heart rate began to slow she took stock of the situation. She was in shadow thanks to the tree but the lights would be on for almost ten more minutes. She also realized that her inner thighs and bottom were wet from the juices which were flowing from her pussy. A pussy which at the moment was practically throbbing.

There was no controlling it. No waiting. Sam lay in the shadow of the tree rubbing her clit with one hand while burying three fingers of the other deep in her soaking wet hole. When she came she felt fluid gush out of her like her sister did in the video. It was the first time she had ever squirted and it was the most amazing orgasm she had ever experienced.

She lay there panting trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm. Eventually the lights went back off. On shaky legs Sam made her way back through the gate and inside the house. Not bothering to go upstairs to her room she kicked off her shoes and dropped naked onto the sofa. As she drifted off to sleep she realized that reaching the mailbox would have to wait until tomorrow night.

Sam woke the following morning naked on the living room couch. The events of the previous day came rushing back to her mind. She knew that she wanted to push herself further. She also knew that she needed to disable the motion sensor on the exterior lights before venturing into the front yard again.

Grabbing only the long t-shirt from the day before she put it on then retrieved a step ladder from the laundry room. Walking out the front door with the ladder knowing the shirt barely covered her bottom Sam was instantly aroused. She climbed the ladder but couldn't reach the sensor without her reaching over her head. Raising her arms caused the shirt to rise, exposing her bottom to anyone passing by. Sam almost came on the spot. Trembling with excitement she finally managed to remove the motion sensor then climb down the ladder.

That task accomplished, Sam went back inside removed the shirt and dropped it onto the couch as she passed. She returned the ladder to the laundry room then went out the back door for a dip in the pool.

After a quick swim Sam toweled off and returned to her bedroom to continue checking the files on the DVD. She was looking for more ideas of places to indulge her newfound desire to be naked once she had finished exploring the front yard. Her plan was to lay down late in the afternoon and continue her adventures after midnight.

After checking several pictures which were obviously taken in her sister's bedroom featuring her sister in nothing but a garter belt, stockings and heels Sam was again surprised. There was a picture of Sarah on her back, legs spread wide, feet in the air with a very large dark brown dildo shoved inside her pussy. Opening several following pictures Sam was able to get an idea of just how long and thick it was. Amazed at how much of it her sister seemed to be able to take she wanted to see it in person and hoped that it hadn't made the trip abroad with Sarah.

Returning to her sister's bedroom she searched for it's hiding place. After checking what she considered the likely places, nightstand, lingerie drawer, under the bed, etc. she went into the closet. At the back of the closet was the only suitcase that her sister hadn't taken to school in Munich. Sam took it back to her bedroom and opened it discovering that her sister had an even wilder side than she had ever imagined.

Inside the suitcase was a wide variety of sex toys including a wand with numerous attachments, restraints, assorted vibrators, butt plugs, several different sized dildos and of course the giant chocolate colored one from the pictures. Also present was a large bottle of lubricant. What shocked her the most however was a ten inch long strap-on dildo. Was her sister a lesbian? She had never thought of Sarah that way but she was quickly discovering that she didn't know her sister nearly as well as she once thought.

Sam had never used a sex toy before but that was about to change. Picking up the huge brown dildo she was surprised by both its weight and thickness. She could only get her hand about half way around it. There was no way that thing would fit inside her. Placing it back into the suitcase she selected a smaller dildo that felt more like human skin and was approximately the same size as her last boyfriend.

Sam lay on her bed and began to slowly rub the head of the dildo across her clit and up and down the length of her pussy. Once her juices were flowing enough to provide the needed lubrication she inserted the head of the dildo into her hungry slit. She began slowly moving it in and out going a bit deeper with each stroke until finally she was taking the entire length. While it wasn't as good as a human penis it was definitely better than her fingers.

She continued for several minutes pulling the dildo out until only the head remained inside her then pushing its full length back into herself. While she was enjoying the feeling she had never achieved an orgasm without clitoral stimulation. Sam paused, leaving the dildo fully inserted, and looked in the suitcase for some additional assistance. She located a smooth silver bullet shaped vibrator and turned the black knob at the base. It began to vibrate while making a buzzing noise.

Laying back, Sam continued to slowly fuck herself with the dildo but now placed the tip of the vibrator against her clit. Immediately Sam moaned as a feeling of pleasure more intense than she had ever experienced swept from her clit through her entire body. Unconsciously she began to pump the dildo more rapidly in and out of her now very wet pussy. In less than a minute Sam had a powerful orgasm. While not as powerful as she had the night before under the shadow of the oak it was still the second best she had ever experienced.

Turning off the vibe and removing the soaked dildo from her pussy Sam got up from the bed and went into the bathroom to sponge off. Returning to her bedroom she knew if she stayed in the house she would not be able to resist the temptation to masturbate the day away. While not the worst idea in the world she was afraid if she did it would lessen her desire to continue her nude exploration of the front yard later that night. She decided a run would be a good way to both pass the time and get her tired enough to go to sleep in the afternoon to be rested for her planned late night adventure.

Not bothering with panties she pulled on a pair of pink spandex running shorts and a pink and black sports bra. Socks and running shoes completed her attire. Quickly adjusting to being clothed she put her hair into a ponytail and headed out the door for a run.

When running from home Sam followed a series of walking trails that the City maintained in the community. They were not completely connected which required about two miles of the five mile total to be run on sidewalks or the road. Sam would begin from her home, run to one end of the trail then turn around and run to the other end of the trail then run back to her house making the total circuit ten miles give or take. Always before when running she had worn panties. About a half mile into the run Sam noticed the difference not wearing panties made. Her tight spandex running shorts had worked their way up and were perfectly outlining her pussy displaying an obvious camel toe.

Her first thought was panic but it was quickly replaced by a wicked feeling of excitement. She thought, "This could be my first chance to be in public and expose an intimate part of myself in a way that can be passed off as accidental." Thinking of people being able to clearly see the outline of her pussy made Sam become wet and her nipples harden. They weren't too noticeable as her running bra was designed to provide support for her 32D breasts but they would be visible to anyone that looked directly at her chest.

As she turned off the sidewalk onto the first trail she could see an older man walking a dog headed in her direction. When she was within twenty feet of him Sam saw his eyes go to her crotch where they remained until she passed. Sam was so turned on that it was all she could do not to turn off the trail into the woods and find a place to masturbate. Thankfully the spandex material didn't show how soaking wet her pussy had become.

A mile or so further down the trail a woman was jogging toward her. She looked to be in her thirties and very fit with short dark brown hair, small nicely shaped breasts and long firm legs. Sam had seen her on these trails many times before but they had never met. The woman had always seemed very focused and rarely made eye contact. As Sam drew near the woman looked her in the eye and smiled giving Sam a wink as they passed. Sam had never been with another woman or even had fantasies about doing so but at that moment all she wanted was for this woman to see her naked.

Sam received several more appreciative looks during her run and by the time she was back home she was so horny that she couldn't wait another second. Going to her room she stripped off her sweaty clothes, picked up the dildo and vibe she had used earlier and went into to the backyard to the lounge chair by the pool. Laying in the lounge chair naked in the sun she began working the vibe over her engorged clit and furiously fucking her soaking wet pussy with the dildo. She came again in short order.

After her orgasm she lay in the lounge chair for a bit recovering before eventually going inside for a shower. After drying off and wrapping her hair in a towel she went naked to the kitchen and fixed herself a salad. By now it was late afternoon. Setting an alarm for 12:00 am she went to bed and drifted off to sleep.

She woke tingling with excitement. Sam was determined that this time she would make it to the mailbox at the street. Donning her running shoes but otherwise naked she went downstairs to the front door. The house was dark and Sam stood at the window looking out into the night. Once satisfied that no one was about, she slipped out the front door onto the porch and paused, watching and listening for the sound of a vehicle. Her nipples stiffened which she began to pinch and lightly twist as she stood enjoying the feelings running through her body.

After several minutes she left the front porch and headed toward the driveway to her left. She could feel the juices from her pussy already beginning to seep down her inner thighs. She walked cautiously down the drive alert for the sound of an approaching car. None appeared.

Reaching the mailbox without incident Sam paused to decide what to do next, The street was quiet and all the houses were dark. To her right there were only three houses between her and where her street intersected with a thoroughfare that ran between the northern and southern sections of the city. Thinking that at this hour on a Sunday night it should be pretty quiet Sam decided to continue down the street to the intersection approximately 200 yards away.

Knowing that this would significantly raise her chances of being caught only fueled her excitement. Believing that the lateness of the hour would allow her to get away with it she set out for the corner. About one hundred yards away from her goal she heard a car quickly approaching on the thoroughfare. Sam froze looking for a place to hide but there was nothing in the immediate vicinity that would offer her any concealment. Headlights game into view moments before a car sped past the intersection and continued on its way without any indication that she had been seen.

Sam was horny as hell, the inside of both her thighs were wet to her knees, her juices beading down them like sweat. She wanted to get to the intersection no, she needed to get to that intersection. Listening closely for any more approaching cars she continued forward eventually reaching the street sign at the corner. She was happy, horny and knew she wasn't done for the evening.

Across the thoroughfare from the corner was a golf course attached to one of the two country clubs in the city. Sam had run on it many times in the late evening and was familiar with its layout. Quickly crossing the road and passing through the bushes that separated the golf course from the street she was feeling more confident. The golf course sat lower than the road so Sam had to make her way down a hill and through some trees to reach the fairway. The shrubs, trees and difference in elevation should prevent anyone driving by from seeing her on the course which was lit only by the quarter moon that had recently risen.

Sam's destination was going to be the halfway house between the ninth and tenth fairways which was about four hundred yards from where she entered the course. Making her way along the fairway she felt exhilarated in the knowledge that she was completely naked in a public place that in just a few hours would have hundreds of people crossing it.

Sam reached her destination at ten past one according to the clock above the entrance to the building. There was a dim light illuminating an area outside where sat concrete tables and benches. Climbing on top of one of the large tables she lay on her back looking up at the stars. Hands moving to her breasts she began gently squeezing and rolling her erect nipples. Sam felt safe here and wanted to take her time. After a couple of minutes her left hand continued with its nipple play as her right slowly began working its way down her body, fingertips tracing lightly against her skin. She shuddered as her fingers moved across her hip bone and eventually arrived at her clit. Briefly reaching lower she inserted the middle finger up to the knuckle into her wet pussy. Swirling it several times elicited a low moan from her lips.

Removing the now well lubricated finger Sam brought it to her clit where she began to make slow circles around and across it. Making herself go slowly to savor the experience she alternated between rubbing her clit and finger fucking her pussy. After about ten minutes Sam's body could no longer take the build up of sexual tension caused by her public nudity and the ministrations of her fingers.

Moaning loudly Sam's orgasm exploded through her body and she felt herself flooding the tabletop with cum. She continued rubbing her clit through the first orgasm rapidly climaxing a second then third time. Each brought more cum from her pussy but not nearly the amount as the first flood. Finally spent, she dropped her hands to her sides and lay there several seconds before pushing herself up to a sitting position to get a look at the wetness spread across the concrete table. That's when she saw the security guard.

He was standing about thirty feet away, just at the edge of the ring of light, and was rapidly pumping his very erect very large cock. Just as Sam saw him a huge rope of cum erupted from its head landing on the grass several feet in front of him followed rapidly by several more.

In a panic Sam began scooting off the table sliding through the puddle of her cum that was quickly seeping into the concrete. As her feet hit the dew covered ground she tried to run but lost her footing and fell in a heap knocking the breath from her lungs. Sam heard footsteps approaching and tried unsuccessfully to rise. The guard stopped still five feet from her and knelt down on the ground.

"Are you okay miss?" he asked.

Unable to speak Sam again tried to rise but once again her body betrayed her.

"I won't hurt you miss, I just want to help you. You're not going to be in any trouble. My names Jim," he said.

Still dazed she croaked out "Sam" without thinking that she had just given this stranger, who had just caught her masturbating naked on a public golf course, her name. After thirty seconds or so Sam's breathing began to return to normal though she was still quite winded. She moved into a sitting position feet on the ground and pulled up against her ass, knees up she wrapped her left arm around them and did her best to cover her breasts with the right acutely aware of how naked and vulnerable she was.

When Jim saw that she seemed to be recovering he stood and backed away a few feet making a calming motion with his hands. Jim's actions helped to calm Sam somewhat. As she sat recovering her breath Jim walked over to a golf cart sitting near the spot he had been standing when Sam first spotted him. He retrieved a raincoat and returned tossing it to the ground about two feet from her. He then turned his back and walked another ten feet away.

"Sam, you cover up with that if you want," Jim said.

Sam crawled across the ground retrieving the raincoat which she draped over herself like a blanket. Jim, his back still turned, was speaking again.

"I'm sorry I startled you. I really thought you was someone else. You see they's another lady that comes down here and puts on a show for me from time to time. When I saw someone down here I thought it was her. I got down here and saw you and assumed that she had told you about it and you come here to do the same."

Jim's manner and the fact he had given her the raincoat to cover up with helped to reassure Sam and his story of another woman masturbating in front of him on a somewhat regular basis intrigued her.

"Jim you can turn around now," said Sam.

Jim turned and Sam was able to get her first good look at the man. He stood around six feet tall, was powerfully built with broad shoulders and large biceps. He had a shaved head, thick mustache and dark brown skin. If Sam had to guess she would have put his age in his mid fifties. He leaned back against one of the concrete tables crossing his arms across his chest.

"So Sam," Jim began, "if that other lady didn't send you, what you doing down here? I don't see no clothes laying around."

Sam hesitated but could think of nothing to say other than the truth. She told Jim of her past two days omitting how near she lived and the fact that she was alone in the house for the next month.

When she finished Jim just chuckled and with a smile said, "Well Sam, I work Sunday through Thursday nights on this here course. Anytime you want to come down here and put on a show for old Jim you feel free. I promise not to touch you unless you was to ever ask me to. I can't promise not to touch myself though," he said with another grin.

Jim's manner had put Sam thoroughly at ease now and his last comment had caused her to begin to feel aroused once more.

"Tell me about the other woman that comes down here Jim. If you don't mind that is."

"Oh I don't mind," said Jim. "She older than you, not old but older. Pretty lady, probably in her thirties. Got darker hair, taller, not as nice a chest though," he said again flashing a huge smile.

"Are their any particular days she's here?" Sam asked.

"No," Jim replied. "She pretty random. Sometime she here twice a week, sometime I don't see her for a couple of weeks. She usually here about this time of night though."

Jim straightened from leaning against the table and said, "Well Sam, I got to go punch a time clock up at the office so they know I'm doing my rounds. Remember what I said bout visitin old Jim again. Oh and keep the raincoat, it may help you get back to wherever you come from." With that he flashed Sam another smile and returned to the golf cart, its electric motor carrying him silently into the night.

Sam stood and slipped into the rain coat. It was made for someone much taller than her 5'2" height which meant that a fair amount of it was on the ground and walking in it would be difficult. Removing it she folded it up and carried it with her in case she needed it before reaching home. Setting off naked once again erotic thoughts were flying around in her head. Jim jerking his massive cock while she masturbated was a huge turn on for her as was the thought that out there somewhere was another woman who, like her, enjoyed being naked where she shouldn't be. Sam's return home was made without further incident and by the time she entered through the front door she knew that she would be seeing Jim again. She had a raincoat to return after all.