Katori

I woke up the next morning with a warm but empty spot in the bed next to me.

JC had come up, as planned. We'd had the quietest, most secretive sex I'd ever had.  Sean's grandmother was deaf in one ear and she'd turn the TV all the way up so we didn't have to be quiet.

But last night the silence was... so loud. After, we both panted into our pillows, waiting for a floorboard to creak and either Kaya or Nasaan to come and investigate the breathy moan I couldn't hold back or keep to a whisper. When we'd caught our breath, we laid together, my back to his chest while the sweat droplets on our foreheads dried. I'd fallen asleep wrapped up in him but had awakened alone.

A glance at the clock pushed me out of the bed. I'd overslept a bit, but it was still early, so Nasaan wouldn't be up yet. I did my bathroom routine and threw on a pair of sweats and a long t-shirt. I smelled coffee halfway down the steps and smiled to myself. It was kind of nice to have a thoughtful house guest.

Or at least one that made himself at home.

JC was at the kitchen table, reading our newspaper again. I walked past him, willing myself to not slide a hand across his broad shoulders and give his bicep a squeeze. No need for those gestures of familiarity and...feelings of like. We weren't dating. Just having sex.

I pulled a mug from the cupboard and filled it with coffee, adding cream and sugar to my liking. Behind me, the pages of the newspaper fluttered as JC turned them.

"Uhm, good morning," I muttered, turning around and lifting my mug to my lips.

"Morning," he answered, his tone low but his voice bright and clear, like he'd been awake for a while. He was wearing his glasses again, the thick rims bracketing his eyes and the friendly crow's feet that showed up when he smiled. He laid the paper down and reached for a half-empty mug of coffee. Before it got to his pursed lips he turned to me and, ever so quickly, winked. Then sipped coffee and set the mug down and resumed reading the paper.

"Did you sleep okay?"

"To be honest, I've been having a little trouble sleeping since I hit this town. I'm uh...I seem to be up until all hours of the night doing things."

"Oh?" So we were going to play this game where we flirt with each other all day and pretend nothing is happening until nightfall, then secretly go at each other all night?

Fine. That's... that would be just fine.

"Doing things?"

"Well... not... things per se. I mean... I'm busy, alright? Until late. Or early. And then I have to..." He sighed and flipped a page. "Relocate. And I'm just not used to moving around this time of day, you know what I mean?"

"Mmmhmm...." I hummed, sliding my mug onto the counter. "I know what you mean. It's worth it, though. Don't you think?"

"Oh, for sure," he quickly agreed, glancing up at me. His eye caught mine and a flash of a smile played at his lips. "Well worth it."

"I agree," I said quietly. Then pushed away from the counter and headed toward the refrigerator. I needed to get breakfast on the table for Nasaan and Kaya. And I needed a distraction from those eyes and the tone of his voice and that black t-shirt he was wearing. And those lips I wanted to kiss until they were raw.

"So... Tori Amos, huh?"

I grabbed the eggs, the leftover ground beef from the sloppy joes, a few slices of cheese, an onion and a few peppers. I spread everything out on the counter and pulled a skillet from the dishwasher.

"What?"

"Kaya said you were so emo in high school that you wouldn't have known *NSYNC. Tori Amos, Bjork, Sole`, I think she said? You still like emo music?"

"It wasn't emo music. It was just... meaningful."

"Take a space ride with a cowboy isn't meaningful? That song was about space travel. I was ahead of my time with that."

I giggled, waiting for the element to heat up. While waiting, I dumped what was left of the sloppy joes in the skillet, then moved to the cutting board.

Suddenly JC was beside me, washing his hands at the sink. "I'll chop, if you want. I don't do much cooking but I can cut things."

"Okay. Just don't slice your fingers off. You know you hate Nurse Ratchet."

"I will keep that in mind." He dumped the onion and the peppers onto the cutting board and started chopping. I watched him like he was my son using a knife for the first time, until I'd watched enough to see that he knew how to use a knife. I returned my attention to the sizzling skillet on the stove.

"So, are you still a Tori Amos fan?"

I moved the beef around in the skillet as it warmed. "Yeah, actually. She just released an album in September. She toured Europe and then did a few shows here and there and three nights in LA." I rolled my eyes. "So she basically didn't do a US tour."

"Cloudcroft probably isn't on the tour schedule."

"Nope. The closest arena is El Paso, two hours from here. And El Paso is never on the tour schedule either. Then we're talking about flying to the nearest venue and I can't afford that."

I turned the burner down under the beef and motioned for the peppers and onions. He scraped them into the skillet and I mixed them in, adding a few seasonings from the cabinet next to the stove.

"What the hell are you making, Tori?"

I laughed. "Breakfast sloppy joe's. Nasaan loves them whenever we have sloppy joe leftovers. It's really good. I promise."

"I haven't had a bad meal yet in this house. I choose to believe you."

"Well, good. Because it's true."

"I also have an iron stomach, so..." His belly made a flat sound as he gave it a pat, then he turned around and leaned against the counter to watch me cook. "What's your like... your favorite, from her? Or a song you can always listen to?"

I eyed JC, wary of his questions. "Why do you ask?"

He chuckled, tucking his hands up under his arms. "Are you embarrassed about your music choices? I don't mind a little emotion in my music." I didn't answer, so he tried again. "I'm just curious. Trying to get to know you."

"Why?" I asked again. "What good will knowing me do, when you're back in LA, Pretty Boy?"

"I'm just making conversation, Tori. Being nice to my hostess. And I'm genuinely interested in anything that has to do with music. But if you want me to shut it and go back to reading the paper-"

"No." I shook my head, mentally shaking myself. Get. it. together. Tori. "I'm sorry, forget it. I want this to be easy but I don't know how to navigate this... thing."

"It's like I said the other day. We're adults. We do what adults do, and no one needs to know. We act like adults who have to exist in this house together for a least a few more days. We can stop if it's too weird- "

"I don't want to stop." I shook my head, my heart slamming around in my chest at the thought of not being with him for the short time I had him. I could handle this. I was cool and calm the evening before when I'd invited him up to my room.

I was also horny as fuck. But we could do this. We could be quiet. And careful. And I could get used to waking up and reaching for him and smelling his scent but  feeling nothing but empty bed.

"Okay. Well. We should probably like.... talk like normal people. So I'm asking you some really general questions about the music you like. You should be able to handle that."

I turned the burner off on the stove and set the skillet to the side, then pushed JC a few inches down the counter so I could dig out another skillet for the eggs.

"A Sorta Fairytale. That's my favorite song by her." I grabbed the skillet I needed and set it on the stove, then pointed toward the bread bin. "There are English muffins in there. If you wouldn't mind toasting them?"

When JC moved around me to dig out the package of muffins, I continued while cracking eggs into a bowl.  "It was still... Tori,  you know? Her voice was still gritty and real, lyrics still hypercritical and full of dissent, but also... maybe it was how it was kind of hopeful. I was pregnant with Nasaan when that song came out and she just seemed... softer. Not soft. But softer."

"I know the song you're talking about," he said, pulling English muffins from the bag.

I stopped beating eggs long enough to stare at him.  "Seriously?"

"Down New Mexico way," he sang, in perfect tenor.  "Something about the open road, I knew that he was looking for some Indian blood...and find a little in you find a little in me..."

"How...how do you know that song?"

"It was one of her more radio friendly singles. And I listen to a little of everything. See? We're learning things about each other."

Without another word, I left the kitchen, walked to the stereo in the living room and pressed play on the CD in the changer. A Sorta Fairytale blared through the speakers for a moment before I turned it down. JC grinned at me from the toaster and sang along.

On my way back to the kitchen, I yelled up the stairs. "Nasaan! Breakfast is almost on! Get up!"

"Thought you said he slept like the dead," said JC. Four muffins popped up in the toaster. He grabbed them and set them on a plate.

"He also has a body clock that wakes him up at 7AM every day," I said, going back to my eggs, piling them on half of a muffin, then adding cheese, a little sloppy joe mix, and topping with more cheese. "And that speaker is right under his bedroom so that woke him up if nothing else did. He'll be down here in three... two..."

Footsteps thumped down the stairs and Nasaan ambled around the corner in boxers and a loose sleeveless tee, his eyes just barely open and his hair a tousled mess. JC started laughing before he could stop himself. "You do sleep hard, huh buddy?"

Nasaan blinked, then yawned. "I thought you said breakfast was ready. Can I have coffee?"

I slid a plate holding two sandwiches in front of him. His eyes opened, then. "No coffee. Milk or juice?"

"Juice," he grumbled, digging into his breakfast. "JC, you gotta try this breakfast sloppy joe. It's rad."

JC laughed, resuming his seat and folding the newspaper closed. "I heard you liked this concoction. It better be good."

From the top of the stairs, Kaya's sleep ravaged voice rained down. "Who put that moaning, emo woman on the stereo? I don't want to be depressed at 7AM!"

...

JC

"Okay, hold that right there. And watch your thumbs."

I tilted my head back and tucked my thumbs as I held a piece of pipe from my Triumph and let Tori pound on it for a few seconds, after softening the metal with the blow torch. It was loud and tinny, the sound reverberating through the shop. The bike was pretty much repaired, but there were some dents that Tori wanted to try to get out.

"Damn. That must be a thick piece of metal."

"It is," she said, lifting her goggles to inspect her work. She nodded, setting down the hammer-like tool she was using. "Steel, the real stuff. That's why the bike is so heavy. The newer bikes are made of thinner steel and plastic cases."

"And that's why they total out the first time you crash them."

"Exactly. They crumple like tinfoil. It's the same as the automobile. The giant tank your great grandfather probably drove would get you through World War 3. You drive a... what?"

"I'm not telling you," I answered, laughing.

"What? Why?"

"You already call me Pretty Boy."

"Can I guess?"

"Dunno, can you?"

Tori propped one hand on a hip and swiped a bead of sweat from her forehead with the other.  "Uhm, I'm pretty good at this game, Pretty Boy. Porsche?"

I grimaced. "Definitely not."

"Okay. You're not an Aston Martin or Bentley kind of guy."

"Nope."

"Beemer?"

I shoved my hands in my pockets, rocking from the balls to the heels of my feet. "Nope."

"Jag. You drive a Jaguar."

"Nope, I don't."

"Lexus?"

"I feel like you're not even trying. Do I look like a Lexus kinda guy?"

Tori snorted. "Fine. Mazda. Acura. Dodge Dart."

"Dodge Dart?" I was almost bent over, I was laughing so hard. "I can't see me in a Dodge Dart, honey."

Tori sighed, laughing along with me. After a few moments of silence, she said, "Benz. Not a standard model. Black. And you've probably had it a while."

"You looked that up online."

"Wait, am I right?" Her eyebrows shot up almost to her hairline and she grinned in surprise.  "You drive a Benz?"

"Yeah. But I mean... there's pictures of me in my car on the internet-"

"That I haven't seen, JC. To be honest, I pegged you for a Benz guy right away. Am I right that it's not a standard model?"

"AMG," I answered, smirking. "Black. I've had it forever."

"Called it." She clapped her hands and then threw victory fists into the air.

"What do you mean, called it? You guessed like twenty models before you said Benz."

"But I knew it was a Benz all along."

"Uh huh."

Tori closed the few inches of space that separated us, grabbed two handfuls of my jacket and pulled me to her, so close I sniffed the scent of her shampoo in the air.

"Don't believe me?"

"Not really. But I could probably be convinced."

"Oh?" An eyebrow lifted, accompanied by a cute little head tilt. "And... how could I convince you?"

"You're no dummy. Skilled, talented, brilliant- you could probably come up with some good ideas."

Still holding the lapels of my jacket, she pulled me to the counter she used as a desk. "Laying it on thick, Pretty Boy. You must really want some."

"There you go, showing off that brain."

I stepped close, pinning her between my body and the counter and lowered my mouth to hers. I caught her bottom lip between my teeth and gently bit until she moaned. I released her, then went in for the long, deep kiss.

Tori hummed and moaned as the kiss deepened, her fingers working the zipper of my jacket until it opened. She pushed it off of my shoulders; I shrugged it off, hearing it drop to the floor.

"How much time do we have?" I mumbled against her lips.

"A lot," she answered. "Hours."

"No one's gonna walk in here? Or drop by?"

She shook her head. "No one comes here without calling first." She cupped my face in her hands and pulled me to her, devouring my mouth with a sizzling kiss. "Why? What do you have in mind?"

I turned her, so her back was to me and so she could brace against the counter.  "You think we're breaking any world records, here? The most sex performed by two people in a twenty four hour period?"

Tori tipped her head back, laughing into the air. My arousal was evident through my jeans and she was having fun with it, writhing up against me. My arms closed around her slim waist and I pulled her, firmly fitting her back against my chest and my dick against her ass.

"I'd say yes, but I think newlyweds probably have us beat."

"Or girls fucking members of a boyband. All the members of a boyband."

She gasped and tried to turn around, but I held her tight, laughing into the soft skin of her neck. "That didn't happen! Did it?"

"Not to me personally. But I've heard stories."

"That's some wild living."

"What's that saying? Youth is wasted on the young? What I wouldn't give to be able to do whatever I wanted to you."

"I guess I'll have to settle for whatever you can manage.  She turned, slipping her arms around my neck, then leaned in to kiss me, occupying my lips while I filled my palms with handfuls of her ass. A groan rolled from her, mid-kiss. I felt it more than I heard it, in more places than one.

I gripped her hips and lifted her, like she weighed nothing, up onto the counter. Her legs wrapped around me as if by instinct, bringing me closer to her. Through two pairs of jeans, I felt the warmth at her core. And the rapid thump of her heart beat at the base of her neck.

"I hope you're enjoying what I have to offer," she whispered into my ear, then nipped the soft flesh between her teeth. "And that you're having a really really good visit to Cloudcroft."

"As good as they come, honey."

"Mmmm... speaking of come and good..."

I laughed. "I know you'd go there."

"I need you to go there," she said, taking one of my hands and sliding it between her thighs.

...

"I know I said we had hours, but..." Tori grunted as she sat up, reaching for the t-shirt and hoodie I'd pulled off of her. "Nasaan will be home from school in a bit and I don't want to look like I've been having sex on the floor of the shop when I see him."

"Even though you totally have," I teased, pulling a stray lug nut from the rat's nest that was her hair.

She grinned back at me, slipping the shirt over her head and pulling it down. "So have you. Might want to see about a mirror, get your hair under control. And, you know, put your pants on."

"I guess I should do that." I sat up, then had to roll to the side so I had enough room between the counter and the wall to stand. I reached for my jeans and stepped into them, pulling them up and over my hips and buttoning the fly.  

Tori did the same, combing her fingers through her hair to tame the mess I'd made. I smirked at her efforts, then grabbed her arm and pulled her to me. "Turn around," I ordered, then raked through the mess as best I could, calming the strands with each stroke. It wasn't perfect, but it looked a helluva lot better than it had when we were still laying on the floor, panting in a mist of sweat.

"For the record, even I'm too old for sex on the floor."

I laughed and agreed, craning my neck around to nibble on her ear. "It was fun though."

Tori chuckled and started to respond but was cut short by the earthquake rumble of an approaching motorcycle.

"Shit," Tori whispered, rushing to the door of the shop and peeking through the blinds. "I don't want to deal with him today."

"Deal with who? Who is that?"

The engine cut, then I heard three sharp knocks at the shop door- more heavy pounding than knocking. I stepped back, leaning onto the counter and grabbed a magazine to flip through.

I recognized the deep baritone of Mitch Chee's voice when Tori open the door to greet him. He stepped inside the shop, ducking his head as he crossed the threshold. 

He didn't say anything, but his eyes met mine and lingered for a beat too long, bouncing from me to Tori and back to me. We looked... rough. I could only imagine what was going through his mind and I was pretty sure he was about to growl at me.

Finally, he offered me a head nod. I nodded and went back to the magazine I was pretending to read.

"What can I do for you, Mitch?" Tori asked, standing in front of the Triumph. She picked up the metal piece she'd been hammering on earlier.  "I'm working on a project right now."

"Unh huh," He grunted, shooting a glance over at me. Fuck, I really needed him to stop doing that. "Did Nasaan tell you I saw him in town? I told him to tell you to call me."

"He told me. I'd appreciate you not sending missives through my son, though."

"Sorry," he said, sounding as chastised as a nearly seven foot tall man could sound. "I'm not getting a response to my phone calls and letters. So, what's the deal, Tori?"

"I don't know yet, Mitch. That's why I haven't returned your calls. And your letters. Could you be more dramatic, stamping first, second, third notice on them? Nasaan probably thinks we're being evicted."

"Nasaan's a smart kid. He knows exactly what's going on. Have you looked for space? I could help you relocate this stuff." His eyes bobbed around the shop as if to say there wasn't much to move.  

"You know how stuck I am. I'm squeaking by as it is."

"Tell me what you need and I'll find it. I'll help you get into it. I'll vouch for you, even. But I gotta get this place emptied."

"You don't gotta do anything, Mitch. You just want to give me a hard time-"

"Aw, come on, Tori. I'm not doing this song and dance much longer. We both know you should be out on your ass right now. I've been generous with time, but... let's go, alright?"

Tori heaved a deep, lung emptying breath and tossed her hands in the air. "I need some time, okay? I know I've had time, but you claim you can't sell this place until I move, so evict me or back off. I need to look at some places, I guess. If you're really going to help me."

"If you need the help, the offer's open. But your time is up. I need a date that you'll be out."

 I wasn't in any position to go up against a giant of a man, but his attitude was pissing me off. Still, I wanted Tori to remember that I was there if she needed me. I tossed down the magazine and stood to full height, folding my arms across my chest. Mitch glared at me and, almost imperceptibly, shook his head.

"Considering what it cost to repair a vintage Triumph, you should have a little cash. I can pony up the rest on a loan. Take the deal, Tori. It's better than going out of business."

Mitch glared at me again before his heavy boots stomped out of the shop. He climbed onto a Harley and revved it. The engine bubbled and rumbled like a percolator. Then he rolled it back into the street and sped away, making as much noise as possible.

A hiss tore from Tori's lips. She gathered up all of her hair and pulled it through a rubber band so it was off of her face. Which, by the way, was beet red . She gave the shop a glance, like she was looking around for something. She was really, I figured, trying not to catch my eye. "I'm sorry you had to hear that. Just a little personal business."

"It's okay." I flipped the magazine closed and walked around the counter where Tori was aimlessly pacing, her hands still on her hips. She sounded like she couldn't breathe. "He wouldn't really evict you, would he?"

She shook her head. "Not unless he wants my father and Eloise up his ass. But he would sell the building with me in it and leave me to the wolves.

"Do you want to move, Tori? Do you want to be in a new space?"

"I don't know, JC. Sometimes I dream about a new place. More room, more technology. I could do a lot with more space, but... this place holds so many memories.  I'm comfortable here. But it's not like I have anyone to pass it down to. And it's not like I have the ability to make it what it could be."

She shook her head, then grabbed her coat from its hook and her keys from the counter. "We gotta go. Nasaan will be home soon."