And You Can't Tell Anyone (Track Twelve: III) 2, chapter 14
You can read new chapters of this story and post comments on Mibba.
Wren leaned over the windowsill and emptied her guts again. In her mind, she was already counting back the weeks. Yes, it had been about two and a half months. She leaned on the wood and cradled her head in her hands.
Not now. Please not now. Not at all would be even better.
All that thinking about the guys acting careful reminded her. They had no need to do it this month, or the one before that. And the month before that was when....
I thought I took my pills! Did I forget?
She stared miserably out the window at the early morning scene. Frost actually coated the blades of grass on the lawn. No one was up yet. Wren checked her clock.
Six forty five. That makes sense. No one in their right mind should be up. What am I going to do?
She turned around as she heard her door give the faintest of squeaks. Mike looked surprised to see her up. To her, he looked about three quarters asleep and one quarter cute. Shirtless, with messy hair, and rumpled boxers he raised his eyebrows.
They spoke in unison. "What're you doing up?"
Mike smiled and held up a bowl, which held some brownish powder. "I've got some pranking, and I need your help. What about you? Are you alright? You look a bit off."
That's the understatement of the year.
"Yeah, I'm fine," she lied. There was no sense in alarming him. Maybe she just had a touch of the flu or something. "Let's get up to some revenge."
He yawned hugely, and rubbed his eyes with his free hand. "Yeah."
Wren eyed the bowl. "Aren't you supposed to be able to paint it on?"
"Left it out too long," he mumbled. "We'll just have to dust it."
Sneakily, they went down the hall to Tré and Billie Joe's room. Both of the boys were in their beds, snoring loudly. The room was freezing, probably because Tré had his blanket stuffed over the vent above his bed. He was sleeping perpendicular to the length of his bed, with his legs dangling off the side. Billie Joe was curled up in such a tiny ball; he could have fit on his pillows alone. Knowing that silence was the key, Mike and Wren worked in mute tandem. First, they went around each of the beds, leaving a fine trail of the dust. After that, Wren held the door while Mike put some more dust on the inner doorknob. Very, very, carefully, they slipped out and shut the door behind them.
Wren breathed a sigh of relief. She had no idea how volatile the dust was, and had feared that it would have gone off with the lightest breeze.
They snuck back into Wren's room, where Mike whispered, "I'm gonna go put this all over the bathroom, maybe in the car too. Can you heat up some marshmallows?"
Wren nodded. He winked back, and they went to their individual parts of The Mission. Wren tiptoed into the kitchen and dug out a bag of marshmallows. With much trepidation, she dug out a pot as well, and put it on the stove to heat.
Oooh, bad idea.
The smell, though normally appetizing, sent her guts to rolling. Wren closed her eyes as she fought off the desire to hurl. Once she was sure she would be okay, she rummaged around in the cupboards for some anti-nausea medication. Finding some, she was about to take it, but stopped. The label was emblazoned with bold black lettering, Do Not Take If Pregnant.
Wren closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. She wanted to stay in denial. By heeding the warning, she was promptly jerked out of it. She had to be careful. Regretfully, she put the box back and stared at the pot of melting marshmallows. It had never looked so disgusting. As she stirred it, she realized it was much too sticky.
Now, the opposite of sticky would be slippery. So.....
Wren got some margarine and put a chunk of it into the pot. Mike came through the kitchen, bearing his bowl and a gel bottle.
"Here, empty this out and put that in. I'm going out to do the car seats."
Wren nodded, "Alright." Finding a small glass, she poured the gel out into it. By then Mike was outside so she could grimace as much as she wanted while dumping out the marshmallow goo. She was about to go into the bathroom, then thought better of it. It would be her luck that she'd set off the powder.
Mike snuck back in, looking more awake as he put the bowl on the counter. He narrowed his blue eyes. "Are you really feeling okay? You look a bit pale."
Wren waved him off. "Yeah. I'm great. Let's set this up." She shook the bottle at him.
He eyed her suspiciously. For a tense second, Wren was worried he would press the issue. The moment passed, and Mike led the way into the bathroom. He silently took the bottle and put it on the small shelf, stretching his long arms so that he did not come very close to the sink.
Deed done, they paused to grin at each other and share a celebratory kiss. Leaving the scene of the crime, they stepped out into the hall. A smile teased on Mike's face, and he took Wren's hand, leading her into his room.
Carefully, he shut the door, his mouth already on hers. Wren kissed him back, wanting to lose all her problems in sensation. Their tongues met and slid together, causing Mike to loose a small moan. They broke apart, eying each other hungrily. Something close to awe shimmered in his eyes. Very carefully, they started touching each other, delighting in the feel of skin. Mike kissed his way down from her collarbone to the waistline of her pants, sinking to his knees. Wren closed her eyes and tilted her head back. Just as gently as he, she ran her hands down his arms. She gasped and involuntarily tightened her grip as his fingers wandered along the waistline of her pants. Bending down, she pressed her lips to him, gently nipping on his lip until he opened for her.
Passion started building, and they stumbled over to his mattress. Wren pinned him down, and started licking along his neck. Mike shuddered in ecstasy.
Growling, he and pulled her down and crushed her against himself. She laughed as he ferociously kissed her face all over. Only he could make her experience this kind of joy. Playfully, she nipped the end of his nose and ran her fingers through his hair.
"So, shall we get on with this before the guys get up?" Mike asked.
"If I didn't know better," she said, "I'd think you were 'aroused'."
As they completed their coupling, she could not hold back a cry that was echoed by him before collapsing across his chest. Hot and sweaty, they panted together, not saying much. Wren closed her eyes as she rose and fell on his chest.
Enjoy it while you can.
Her eyes flew open. There was that voice again.
"Did you hear that?" she asked Mike.
He massaged her bare shoulder. Lazily, he mumbled, "Yeah." He froze as the voice spoke again.
Be careful.
They both listened for some time, but the voice remained silent. The silence deepened as they both drifted off to sleep.
Not now. Please not now. Not at all would be even better.
All that thinking about the guys acting careful reminded her. They had no need to do it this month, or the one before that. And the month before that was when....
I thought I took my pills! Did I forget?
She stared miserably out the window at the early morning scene. Frost actually coated the blades of grass on the lawn. No one was up yet. Wren checked her clock.
Six forty five. That makes sense. No one in their right mind should be up. What am I going to do?
She turned around as she heard her door give the faintest of squeaks. Mike looked surprised to see her up. To her, he looked about three quarters asleep and one quarter cute. Shirtless, with messy hair, and rumpled boxers he raised his eyebrows.
They spoke in unison. "What're you doing up?"
Mike smiled and held up a bowl, which held some brownish powder. "I've got some pranking, and I need your help. What about you? Are you alright? You look a bit off."
That's the understatement of the year.
"Yeah, I'm fine," she lied. There was no sense in alarming him. Maybe she just had a touch of the flu or something. "Let's get up to some revenge."
He yawned hugely, and rubbed his eyes with his free hand. "Yeah."
Wren eyed the bowl. "Aren't you supposed to be able to paint it on?"
"Left it out too long," he mumbled. "We'll just have to dust it."
Sneakily, they went down the hall to Tré and Billie Joe's room. Both of the boys were in their beds, snoring loudly. The room was freezing, probably because Tré had his blanket stuffed over the vent above his bed. He was sleeping perpendicular to the length of his bed, with his legs dangling off the side. Billie Joe was curled up in such a tiny ball; he could have fit on his pillows alone. Knowing that silence was the key, Mike and Wren worked in mute tandem. First, they went around each of the beds, leaving a fine trail of the dust. After that, Wren held the door while Mike put some more dust on the inner doorknob. Very, very, carefully, they slipped out and shut the door behind them.
Wren breathed a sigh of relief. She had no idea how volatile the dust was, and had feared that it would have gone off with the lightest breeze.
They snuck back into Wren's room, where Mike whispered, "I'm gonna go put this all over the bathroom, maybe in the car too. Can you heat up some marshmallows?"
Wren nodded. He winked back, and they went to their individual parts of The Mission. Wren tiptoed into the kitchen and dug out a bag of marshmallows. With much trepidation, she dug out a pot as well, and put it on the stove to heat.
Oooh, bad idea.
The smell, though normally appetizing, sent her guts to rolling. Wren closed her eyes as she fought off the desire to hurl. Once she was sure she would be okay, she rummaged around in the cupboards for some anti-nausea medication. Finding some, she was about to take it, but stopped. The label was emblazoned with bold black lettering, Do Not Take If Pregnant.
Wren closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. She wanted to stay in denial. By heeding the warning, she was promptly jerked out of it. She had to be careful. Regretfully, she put the box back and stared at the pot of melting marshmallows. It had never looked so disgusting. As she stirred it, she realized it was much too sticky.
Now, the opposite of sticky would be slippery. So.....
Wren got some margarine and put a chunk of it into the pot. Mike came through the kitchen, bearing his bowl and a gel bottle.
"Here, empty this out and put that in. I'm going out to do the car seats."
Wren nodded, "Alright." Finding a small glass, she poured the gel out into it. By then Mike was outside so she could grimace as much as she wanted while dumping out the marshmallow goo. She was about to go into the bathroom, then thought better of it. It would be her luck that she'd set off the powder.
Mike snuck back in, looking more awake as he put the bowl on the counter. He narrowed his blue eyes. "Are you really feeling okay? You look a bit pale."
Wren waved him off. "Yeah. I'm great. Let's set this up." She shook the bottle at him.
He eyed her suspiciously. For a tense second, Wren was worried he would press the issue. The moment passed, and Mike led the way into the bathroom. He silently took the bottle and put it on the small shelf, stretching his long arms so that he did not come very close to the sink.
Deed done, they paused to grin at each other and share a celebratory kiss. Leaving the scene of the crime, they stepped out into the hall. A smile teased on Mike's face, and he took Wren's hand, leading her into his room.
Carefully, he shut the door, his mouth already on hers. Wren kissed him back, wanting to lose all her problems in sensation. Their tongues met and slid together, causing Mike to loose a small moan. They broke apart, eying each other hungrily. Something close to awe shimmered in his eyes. Very carefully, they started touching each other, delighting in the feel of skin. Mike kissed his way down from her collarbone to the waistline of her pants, sinking to his knees. Wren closed her eyes and tilted her head back. Just as gently as he, she ran her hands down his arms. She gasped and involuntarily tightened her grip as his fingers wandered along the waistline of her pants. Bending down, she pressed her lips to him, gently nipping on his lip until he opened for her.
Passion started building, and they stumbled over to his mattress. Wren pinned him down, and started licking along his neck. Mike shuddered in ecstasy.
Growling, he and pulled her down and crushed her against himself. She laughed as he ferociously kissed her face all over. Only he could make her experience this kind of joy. Playfully, she nipped the end of his nose and ran her fingers through his hair.
"So, shall we get on with this before the guys get up?" Mike asked.
"If I didn't know better," she said, "I'd think you were 'aroused'."
As they completed their coupling, she could not hold back a cry that was echoed by him before collapsing across his chest. Hot and sweaty, they panted together, not saying much. Wren closed her eyes as she rose and fell on his chest.
Enjoy it while you can.
Her eyes flew open. There was that voice again.
"Did you hear that?" she asked Mike.
He massaged her bare shoulder. Lazily, he mumbled, "Yeah." He froze as the voice spoke again.
Be careful.
They both listened for some time, but the voice remained silent. The silence deepened as they both drifted off to sleep.
