Nathan sat in a booth across from Emily in the warm dimness of a local pub and smiled at her. She scowled back. "If you were expecting to fuck me tonight, you can forget it." She was wearing a black leather jacket over a red and white striped tank top and frayed denim shorts. The jacket had slipped off her right shoulder. She left it that way.
"What I expect," he said, his smile only fading a little, "is an intelligent conversation." He took a sip of his beer. "I was only
hoping
to fuck you."
Emily snorted and sipped her beer. "That," she said, "was a pretty good answer. What do you want to converse intelligently about- journalism or... whatever it is that you're into?"
"I'm into environmental design modeling, but I'm a total idiot about journalism. Let's talk about that." He narrowed his eyes, "Why to journalists go to such lengths to pretend to be impartial and objective when they obviously aren't?" He watched her green eyes kindle.
Over the next two hours they covered reporting ethics, fact checking, Randolph Hearst and Joseph Pulitzer, freedom of speech, yellow journalism, photo retouching, deep throats, paparazzi, tabloid sensationalism and the total train wreck that is the prime time news.
Emily was nearing the bottom of her third beer. Her face was flushed and she leaned over the table in mid-argument, unaware, for once, of the effect her cleavage was having on Nathan. "...so if you think you can invoke the libel laws again, forget it. The issues are much more foundational than dodging lawsuits." She finished her beer and slapped the glass down on the table.
"I'm surprised I can think at all with you leaning over the table like that." Nathan's eyes lingered on the place where the swells of her breasts disappeared into the fabric for another moment, then flicked up to her eyes, framed by her long curly red hair.
Emily's face changed and she leaned back, considering. "You never brought it up."
"What?"
"The party. That girl's room."
"Yeah. Well, I thought we'd just start fresh. That was an... interesting evening."
"You," she said slyly, "almost didn't get out of that girl's room with your virtue intact."
"Oh, I didn't," Nathan said, "I jacked off into her underwear drawer after you left."
Emily laughed. "And I thought I left you with the biggest case of blue balls ever."
"That's a myth, you know, blue balls."
"Seriously?" Emily reached for his beer, took a swig.
"Best kept secret of players everywhere." Nathan said, grinning to himself. "Girls fall for that line all the time. The pain was all in my head."
"I
knew
you didn't perv that girl's room. You're such a gentleman." Emily's smile turned mischievous. "So, how long was it before you got yourself off?"
"Who says I had to do it myself?"
"Yeah right. You turn down a no-questions-asked blowjob one minute and hunt down a one night stand the next? Not you. How long did you wait?"
"It was the next morning," Nathan said, his face reddening slightly, "in the shower. You?"
Emily hesitated, then grinned. "Six minutes."
"Six minutes! How did you pull that off?"
"My car has tinted windows."
Nathan looked at her with admiration. "Still. That takes some courage."
"Nope," she said, finishing his beer, "desperation." She looked at his face. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Nothing."
Emily rolled her eyes. "Out with it."
"I, uh, need to adjust... things."
Emily stared at him dumbly for a moment, then her face brightened with understanding. She whispered, too loud, "Are you getting a boner?" Then, without waiting for an answer, "Let me fix it!" She scooted around to the back of the booth and slid her hand into his pants.
"Gently!" Nathan laughed, then gasped. "Ow!"
Emily jerked her hand out. "Oh, I- I'm sorry. Did I scratch you?"
"Yeah," Nathan said, "scratched."
"You know," Emily said, widening her eyes sincerely, "I'm going to have to have a look at that."
----
Jason stood outside of his bedroom door, raised his hand to knock, put it down again. Rebecca was humming as she got dressed in his room, something tuneless and vague. He was still trying to decide whether to just walk in, knock, or walk away when she opened the door, looking exactly as she had when he had seen her this morning outside of Professor Suarez's office.
"You need to take me home so I can get dressed, but you need to get dressed first. I chose clothes for you." Rebecca breezed by him and went down the hall.
"Okay," he said, too quietly for her to hear. He went into his room.
She had laid out a pair of black jeans, a black dress shirt, a belt, and a pair of dusty black dress shoes.
He picked up the shirt, one he had only worn once to a wedding.
"Shine those shoes!" he heard from the kitchen before he started undressing.
----
Jason sat on Rebecca's couch, trying not to think about the last time he had been there, his pants around his ankles, Rebecca's roommate Emily staring at him open mouthed. He shifted awkwardly, waiting for Rebecca to finish getting ready. He got the newly printed fake IDs out of his wallet again, rubbed them and curled them absently to make them seem more worn.
"I need your help."
Rebecca's voice startled him back into the present. She stood at the hall entrance in black panties and a matching bra. "I don't have anything slutty enough."
He raised his eyebrows at her. "Really."
She rolled her eyes. "This isn't slutty. My mom bought me these. I'm raiding Emily's closet. You coming?"
Jason could move fast when he wanted. He found Rebecca holding Emily's leopard print miniskirt up to her hips. She grinned. "Does this say 'bang me'?"
"Yes. It also says '...and leave me in a shallow grave at the edge of the trailer park.'"
"Good point," she said, sliding hangers out of the way, "How about this one?"
"I usually like blue and I usually like the plunging neckline, but that's like an office cocktail party." Jason pointed, "
What's that?
"
It was black. Rebecca pulled it off a hanger and held it up. "It's a little black dress."
"That's the one," Jason said, "It's not even on you yet and my heart is pounding."
"That's good, right?" she said, sounding unsure, "It's good that your heart is pounding?"
"Put your hand here," he said, putting her hand in the center of his chest. She stepped in close and closed her eyes. She licked her lips and concentrated on his heart beating under her hand. She laid her head against his chest.
"You're right. This is the one. Go wait in the living room."
"But I want to watch you wiggle into it."
