Pheonix Pt 03

It had been almost a week since Ava had left to visit her family back in Chicago, Ethan thought, almost a week since the surreal events in her bedroom. He had done everything in his power to push the memories to the back of his mind. And yet, there they sat, resurfacing given the slightest opportunity.

He told himself it was nothing, just a strange, one-time... ok, maybe two-time thing. The argument had no weight and even as he repeated the words to himself, he wasn't convinced.

He wasn't avoiding it, not exactly. He had gone about his week as usual, going to class, hanging out around campus, studying between binging sessions on Netflix. But it was the quiet moments that caught him off-guard, like standing in the line at the coffee shop, where his mind would drift to the feeling of the dress against his skin. Or watching the trees flow by through the bus window, inevitably turning into a blurred green backdrop for the vision of Ava's face as it settled in his thoughts. The way she had looked at him. The way he had looked at himself. He didn't flinch at the memories anymore, but he didn't fully know what to do with them either. They were just there, waiting for him.

Ava being away made it worse, somehow. At first, it was kind of a relief, a breather from the whirlpool of emotions he'd been wading through, but now, he couldn't help but miss her. He didn't want to interrupt her time with her family and friends back home, he thought. But he wanted to talk to her, to hear her calming, ever-assured voice. She'd know exactly what to say, she always seemed to know what he was going through better than he did.

***

Jayce leaned back against the couch, his left arm draped lazily over the backrest, and his right hand wrapped around a half-empty Gatorade. The hum of the TV filled the room, the commentators' voices rising with each shift in momentum on the court.

Ethan sat beside him, looking, but not really seeing, the game unfold. In truth, he was just humouring Jayce's decision to watch the game, but he had no knowledge of, or interest in, basketball. He guessed the guys in yellow were winning, based on Jayce's reactions, and he tried to time his own reactions with Jayce's to at least appear like he knew what was happening.

As the game went on, the incoherent babble of the commentators became white noise in Ethan's ears and he let his mind start to drift again. But Jayce broke his haze before it could fully settle.

"Oh yeah, you get Ava's message?" Jayce said casually, eyes not moving from the screen.

Ethan squeezed at his thigh slightly. Ava messaged Jayce? But not him?!

A hollow feeling grew in his stomach. He hadn't heard from her in days. She was visiting family--busy with her life--but, she had time to message Jayce. He exhaled slowly and tried to keep his expression neutral. "No," he said, his voice level, but maybe a little too flat. "What did she say?"

Jayce didn't answer immediately, his focus was mainly on the game. "Yeah, she'll be back from her family's spot on Saturday."

"That's it, that's all she said?" Ethan prodded, not really sure what he was expecting.

Jayce shrugged. "Nah, she mentioned something about how it was nice catching up with her sister." He continued, between gulps of his drink. "Checked out a few places, too. Might move back out there after graduation."

The hollow feeling grew into a pit as his stomach sank. Move back? He hadn't even thought about that--or anything beyond his university life, really. Would that mean they wouldn't see each other again?

"Oh, and she bumped into some guy she went to high school with. Dude's from England, he's cool apparently. She said I'd like him, he's a 'big, muscle-bound type like you,' her words." Jayce snickered, with a slight shake of his head. "...and he plays rugby--those dudes are solid, man, built like tanks. No pads, just straight impact. Gotta respect it." His tone noticeably more enthusiastic, now that the topic was one he was actually interested in.

Jayce's attention moved back towards the TV and he kept talking, but Ethan's mind was already gone, already full with the nameless, faceless guy who Ava herself had called big and muscle-bound. His mind latched onto the phrase, turning it over, comparing it--comparing himself.

Who was he? Did Ava like him? Was it her boyfriend?

Jayce stretched, shifting comfortably, unaware of the swirling ball of emotions beside him. "Man, I should go to England sometime. Seems like a cool place."

Ethan exhaled through his nose, trying to appear steady, but his fingers pressed deeper into his thigh. "Y... Yeah," he said, voice tight. "...seems cool."

***

Ethan was lying on his bed, light from the open laptop in his lap glowing into his glossed-over eyes, a seminar was playing, but he wasn't watching it. He'd been stewing over the conversation with Jayce yesterday--Move back after graduation--The words stuck in his head like an annoying jingle. It wasn't like they had ever talked about the future, but still, he hadn't considered the idea of what would happen to them all after they finished university. And he definitely hadn't considered that Ava was looking for places to live, maybe even with this 'Big Muscley Dude' that both she and Jayce seemed so happy to talk about.

His phone buzzed against the sheets, pulling him out of his thoughts.

'Your package is ready for pickup at reception.'

Ethan frowned. Package?

He hadn't ordered anything. He double-checked the sender, scanning for a name that would jog his memory, but it was just a standard pickup notification.

Maybe it was a mistake. Someone else's package, or a wrong apartment number maybe. But his name was right there.

Ethan Miller - Room 408.

The lobby was quiet when he arrived, soft ambient music coming from the far corner of the unremarkable beige space. The receptionist, a middle-aged woman with short, no-nonsense hair, glanced up as he approached.

"Uh... I got a message about a package?" Ethan said, trying to keep his voice neutral.

The woman tapped at her keyboard, barely giving him a second glance.

"Name?"

"Ethan. Ethan Miller."

"Ahh... Yes, your package just arrived 5 minutes ago. Ethan Miller - Room 408." She exclaimed, with a sudden spark in her eyes. You sure are an eager one Ethan, I haven't even had a chance to shelve it yet, must be important!" She continued, chuckling at her own remark.

Ethan hesitated as she placed the small cardboard box on the counter. "This is mine? But..."

"It's got your name on it, sweety. It's all yours." The woman interrupted, with a warm smile.

"Right... Uh, thanks." He took the box carefully, half-expecting her to question it, but she just smiled at him, the same wide eyes, the same motherly expression.

Back in the apartment, Ethan darted across the living room, with a quick glance over to Jayce, who luckily was too engrossed in his lunch to care much at all, about anything else.

He made a beeline for his bedroom, hooked the door shut behind him with his leg, and set the package down on his desk. The plain cardboard exterior gave nothing away, but it felt too light for some books or a care package from his parents.

He cautiously unfolded the flaps and was met with a sleek, pearl-white box inside, immaculate and far too elegant for something meant for him. A ribbon--deep red, and tied into a perfect bow, sat flush against the top. The colour sparked a vision of his lips in the mirror. But he shook his head and dismissed it.

For a moment, he just stared. The fine linework and embossed patterns, the smooth, velvety texture subtly shining under the light. A stark contrast to the rough, featureless cardboard that had housed it. This wasn't just any package. It was deliberate. Chosen. Prepared.

His fingers hovered over the bow for a moment before he finally tugged it loose. The silk unravelled and fell into a delicate pool on the lamented wood of his desk. He removed the lid gently, revealing light tissue paper underneath, expertly folded and pressed flat, a small card placed over the perfect crease running along the centre.

...Good Girls Deserve Nice Things...

Ethan's heart skipped and he felt a heat rising under his skin, his fingers trembled slightly as he picked up the card. The words, sat there in wine-red looping script, staring back at him. His breath caught in his throat, and he swallowed hard before flipping the card over.

...I'll be back on Saturday. -- Ava :)...

He almost fell over as the words hit him, like Ava's name had jumped off the card to punch him in his chest, and it was only after a few staggered steps that he managed to find his balance, hands fully shaking now as he set the card on his desk and stared at it--blank.

With a deep breath, he found the steadiness to return to the box. Nervous fingers peeling back the upper fold of tissue as carefully as he could. The gentle crackling of paper as it lifted, unveiling rosey pink satin underneath, shimmering as the light danced over it.

More peeling, and more unfamiliar material to consume his attention. Fine black lace trim, pleated impeccably and crimped into tiny half-circles, forming the unmistakable curves that sent a shiver up his spine with a small, impossibly delicate black bow cresting the rim.

Panties!? He screamed inside his head.

He quickly peeled back more paper to confirm what he already knew. Rose pink, utterly girly panties. The most singularly feminine item he'd ever seen.

He felt his heart pumping against his ribs, and adrenaline rise through his core as his eyes swallowed the scene in front of him. The finer details unveiled themselves the longer he looked. The flawless finish of the threading. The perfect symmetry of the seams, and several more, equally delicate bows, sprinkled across the silky pink surface.

He felt breathless, his body vibrating as he lifted them up and out in front of his face, slowly, like they could shatter between his fingertips. The soft satin shifting in his hands, weightless and foreign, but utterly captivating.

The afternoon sunlight glowed behind the fabric, highlighting a barely visible shadow of letters. Ethan flipped the panties around, foregoing any of the care he'd managed before, too eager to wait.

And there they were, the two simple words embroidered in silky black calligraphy across the back. The two simple words that prickled up his spine.

...Good Girl...

A surge of hot energy powered through him, forcing a sharp gasp from his mouth. The sound of his pulse throbbing in his head as he traced each looping letter with his eyes. Ava had sent this. The package was for him. Specifically and only for him. Images of their last encounter flashed across his mind, Ava's voice whispering over and over.

...Good Girl... Good Girl... Good Girl... Good Girl...

The room around him seemed to fade into a blur, and he stood motionless, arms stretched and wide-eyed, a barrage of questions like fireworks in his mind.

Does... she think I'll actually... wear them?

Am I supposed to?

Is this why she called me that... Good Girl... like she already knew?

Was this what she saw the whole time... whenever she looked at me?

What else does she know about me--about what I am?

Has this been some sort of plan all along?

Has she already decided what happens next?

Should I wear them... How would they feel... How would I look?

***

"Yo, pizza's here. I'm gonna go grab it" Jayce's voice echoed faintly from the kitchen. Ethan tossed his textbook to the side and sat up straight in his chair. Finally! He thought to himself, Ava will be back soon. He shot yet another instinctive glance over at his wardrobe. He'd nestled the gift box behind some clothes at the far end of one of the drawers. Out of sight, but inescapably not out of mind.

They'd been tormenting him for two days, like a siren call, singing to him from behind the closed doors, but Ava had said she'd be back today, and maybe she wanted him to wait, or maybe not. She'd never actually said to wear them, but she didn't say not to either.

Ethan tugged at the hem of his t-shirt and tried to ruffle some life into his hair. He felt strangely nervous, giddy, like a thousand tiny bubbles were fizzing inside him. Then, drifting in from the hallway, the unmistakable sweetness of Ava's laugh hit him and Jayce's voice came rumbling after it.

By the time he made it to the kitchen, Ava was already there--leaning casually against the counter, smiling as Jayce enthusiastically pried open the pizza boxes on the table in front of them. She looked so perfect, so flawless, somehow completely unblemished by a full day on the road.

"Figured you'd be hungry. We grabbed that fancy ham one you like." Jayce teased, with a wry smile, as he spun one of the boxes around to face Ava.

Ava rolled her eyes and scoffed. "You mean Prosciutto, you brute! Still, that's super thoughtful, thank you."

Jayce just grinned, satisfied with the reaction he'd provoked and already reaching for a slice. "It was Ethan's call actually. Right dude?".

Ethan's face lit up, eager to take his credit. "I... yeah. Thought you might want something easy, but good after a long trip."

Ava beamed at him with a genuine, heartfelt smile. "You're so sweet, Ethan! It's perfect."

She took a seat at the table, delicately lifted a slice from the box and made sure Jayce was looking at her before taking an exaggerated bite. "Mmmm, fancy ham, so good." She continued, smushing her face together specifically in his direction.

Jayce laughed and Ava continued "So, what have you guys been up to while I've been away?" she asked lightly, but flicking a daggered glance at Ethan.

Ethan's heart skipped, and his cheeks warmed instantly. A quick burst of panic rose through his core, the image of the white box in his wardrobe, the satin, the embroidery.

Jayce answered between mouthfuls of pizza "Oh... you know... just hanging out... watched a few games... you know... just guy stuff."

"Guy stuff, huh?" Ava smirked, her eyes now locked on Ethan as she took a slow, deliberate bite of pizza. "...interesting."

Ethan paced over to the nearest cupboard and grabbed a glass, desperate to disperse the excited energy building inside him. But Ava's gaze followed him precisely as he did.

"Oh... hey, while you're over there, Ethan, do you mind grabbing me a bottle of juice from the fridge, please? I'm totally beat after that drive." She added, sinking her body into the backrest of the dining chair.

Ethan nodded quickly, grateful for the distraction. He turned toward the fridge, and let the cool air wash over his face for a few seconds of respite, as he scanned the shelves.

Bending forward and reaching for the lower shelf, he suddenly felt hyper-aware of his own posture under Ava's still lingering eyes.

"Oh..." Ava's voice cooed innocently from behind. "...Ethan, you're not wearing the gift I got you... Don't you like it?"

He bolted back up straight, and instinctively covered his ass with his hands. A fresh jolt of panic surged through him as his mind raced back to the pink satin, the lace trim, the delicate bow. The bottle nearly slipped from his now shaky grip as he stood--fixed in place.

Jayce looked up at the strange, erratic behaviour, and raised an eyebrow.

"Gift? What gift?"

But Ethan couldn't speak. He was frozen as the two expectant faces stared up at him, Jayce's curious, but Ava's thoroughly amused. He was scrambling for an answer, any answer, any answer that wasn't the answer. "I..."

Ava spoke up before he could. "Oh, you know... those... things... you wear under your shorts..." She teased, bringing her finger up to her chin as if she couldn't quite find the right word.

Ethan screamed internally, his chest and neck seizing up and forcing the air out of his nostrils as the whole kitchen seemed to collapse in on him. He widened his eyes at Ava, desperately hoping to communicate his panic.

"Compression shorts?" Jayce, inquired, a little confused about why Ava couldn't recall such a common thing.

Ava smirked at Jayce's response, but let her gaze sit on Ethan for a few moments before answering, casually. "...sure."

"Oh yeah" Jayce, nodded. "those are way better." Before looking back at Ethan, to give his approval.

And Ava's entire demeanour suddenly changed, she became cartoonishly gleeful, clasping her hands together excitedly in front of her chest. Eyes sparkling with exaggerated delight.

"Right?!.. They are better!.. Aren't they, Ethan?"

But Ethan could barely think, his mind and body were still processing the implications of everything that was happening and he pushed out a choked, blustered agreement.

"Y-yeah... th.. they're great." He stuttered, with an unconvincing nod back at Jayce.

***

Ethan sat motionless on the edge of his bed, staring at his reflection in the mirror. The apartment was quiet now, an ideal backdrop for his mind to relive the events of the kitchen over and over and over again, whether he wanted to or not. The sound of Ava's voice so effortlessly wrapping him in knots echoed around his head. Shattering his world between casual bites of pizza.

Jayce's words had come so easily. Compression shorts--like it was obvious. Like there was no other possible answer. He felt a tingle run up his spine. Maybe Ava really was expecting him to already be wearing them. Maybe she wouldn't have said anything if he was, or maybe she would.

He felt heat rise up to his face and he ran his hands down over the inside of his thighs. If he really was, would Jayce have known, would he have guessed, would Ava have stopped him, or let him ca... The thought terrified him. But...

Ethan's eyes shifted to the wardrobe. And his body followed. The door felt strangely heavier than normal, as he opened it. The benign squeak of the drawer was suddenly more pronounced and made the hairs on his arm stand up. He tentatively brushed the edge of the white lid with his fingers, hesitating just long enough to remember to breathe.

Walking back to the bed, he noticed the shape of his reflection in the mirror but didn't dare fully turn and face it. The wine-red ribbon fluttered playfully down into the deep blue of his bedsheet, followed by the pearl white of the box, and the pink, the tantalizing rosey pink, shining up at him as he stared in silence. Heart beating, body buzzing.

Ethan hooked his thumbs under the waistband of the sweatpants and pushed them down, the heavy cotton bristling against his skin and hitting the floor with a dull thud. He quickly pulled the hoodie over his head and noticed the weight of it in his hands like he never had before--crude, hefty--an equally dull thud as it hit the floor.

He looked down at the pale, flavourless boxers around his waist and whipped them off, they weren't heavy, but he felt lighter without them. He was naked, but he didn't feel exposed. His pulse was fast, and his body was hot, but he felt... comfortable.

With a deep, controlled exhale, he continued. The satin brushed against the top of his toes, cool and silky, sliding over the skin of his ankles with almost no resistance. It glided higher, tracing the lines of his calves, and tickling the back of his knees, just enough to make him shudder slightly. It climbed higher, up along his supple inner thighs, wrapping delicately and slick, but tighter with every passing inch.

The contours of the fabric cradled the underside of his asscheeks, forcing Ethan to arch his back with an involuntary moan. The touch of the air seemed sharper against the curves of his thighs, exposed in a way he'd never felt before.

The light snap of the lace trim waistband as it squeezed gently into place below his hips, hugging him, holding him, firm but soft, tight but smooth.

His whole body was tingling now. Shivers bursting through his torso with every movement of his hands as they flowed over his burning skin. Down past his ribs, pressing into his sides and grasping at his lower back.