Nichole
The hell weekend just keeps getting worse. The apartment is too full, there’s a bunch of trash all over the floor, and there’s a bunch of Katherine and Rashmi all over the table, making horrible moaning noises as they seem mutually intent on eating each other’s faces. Kathy writhes under Rashmi, clawing at her back. They’re both moaning like they’re in heat, and they look like they have no intention of stopping anytime soon.
“Well, she certainly never kissed
me
like that.”
Desdemona’s remark jolts me out of my hypnotic stupor as I realise, with a sickening lurch, that I was thinking the exact same thing.
I stand up suddenly. My lips curl in a furious snarl. “We eat on that table, you know.”
No response, just more moaning. I stomp away, blood pulsing in my ears. “At least have the bloody decency to clean it up after you’re done frotting all over it, then!”
“Oh, no worries, Nichole, I’ve got this!” Emmy gestures towards her spilled possessions and rolls her eyes as I storm past her.
“Great! I’ll leave you and your new fuckbuddy to it, then!” I slam the door to my bedroom shut behind me without waiting for Emmy to respond.
I slump down on the floor, leaning against my bed. My head is spinning, and I’m still trying to process what I just saw. It’s not normal for couples to do stuff like that, right? It felt a lot like Rashmi was putting on a show, like she was doing this huge gesture to show off, to stake her claim on Kathy like she’s just a piece of meat for her to chew up. I’m starting to think she was trying to fuck with me personally.
I never kissed Kathy like that. I never kissed her at all. Even when I had the chance, because I was so caught up in making sense of my own feelings that I didn’t take the time to
act
on them, and just went with the fucked up hatefucking thing without ever stopping to ask if maybe, possibly, we actually wanted more than that from each other.
Neither of us ever dated anyone before. We didn’t even officially clarify what it was we were doing. Rashmi, meanwhile, just went for it. They’re
dating
. They’re making out on the kitchen table in front of the whole apartment. They’re hanging out, talking to each other, doing nice things for each other, demonstrating every single thing I failed to do with Katherine when I had the chance.
It all feels so much more real now than yesterday. Their relationship is not just some ridiculous idea they’re throwing at me, but something I’m going to have to witness, something that’s going to keep happening as long as this madness continues.
I’ll have to watch Rashmi flaunt a relationship she stole from me.
For the next week, the horror show only gets worse. On Monday, the sickeningly happy couple asks me to join them for breakfast. Seated at the kitchen table next to the two, I’m barraged with an endless stream of cutesy back-and-forth chatter as they feed each other little bits of paratha.
Unable to stand the possibility that the two are going to act like this the whole day, I take extreme measures. I head out to the university and actually attend non-mandatory classes. It’s not a great use of my time, as the material is deeply uninteresting and some guy keeps interrogating who I am and why he hasn’t seen me in class before. All the more reason to
not
go there often.
At Rupali’s later in the day, it finally dawns on me: If we’re going to make Kathy and Rashmi jealous, we have to fake-date somewhere they can actually see us. As it stands, I’m just getting to see them rip my heart out any time I’m home, while all they’re getting in return is the
idea
that I’m dating Rupali.
“Yeah, I need to be over at yours way more,” Rupali muses as we confer over dinner. “Like, bring over some clothes, dedicate some closet space to my stuff—really make a show of staking my claim there, you know?”
“Perfect.” I’m so relieved that we’re on the same page about this. “Um, I do have to warn you that my room isn’t in the best—”
“We’ll sort it out.” Rupali puts down her fork to wave off my concerns. “I’ll think about what to bring, and what time to bring it over tomorrow. I think I still remember Rashmi’s schedule for the most part.”
Grateful and overjoyed, I end up spending the night on Rupali’s couch.
“You know, I do have space in my bed. You don’t have to sleep on the couch whenever you’re over here,” she says with that sweet, kind, self-sacrificing attitude of hers.
“No, it’s fine, your couch is really comfy, I swear!” I don’t want to impose. And yet, somehow, that feels like the wrong answer.
So we get started on making Rupali more of a permanent fixture at the apartment. Bringing her home for dinner the next day proves an exercise in barely averting disaster as Rashmi and Kathy both offer to cook, with great enthusiasm. The chasm of obnoxious praise and haughty gloating opening in front of me needs sealing, immediately.
“We already ordered takeout!” I lie. “I had a discount code for four Ikea burgers that was going to expire.”
I end up having to order four full-price Ikea burgers in secret. The wait is agonizing, as Kathy keeps suggesting alternatives: “If the food never arrives, at least Rashmi can make us something good!”
When it does finally arrive, it’s an hour late and lukewarm at best.
“I think Kathy could’ve made something better, if you’d let her.” Rashmi bites into her disappointment of a burger with minimal enthusiasm, and I can’t help but agree.
“Well,
I
think Nichole ordering food for all of us was very considerate.” Rupali pulls me in for a kiss, and before I have time to realize what’s going on my lips are touching hers. My heart skips a beat, the sensation of her lips against mine soft, warm, and above all else completely unexpected.
I’m so taken aback I almost forget to say something in response. “You too! I mean, thanks.”
At least we got a reaction out of Rashmi, who’s practically fuming when I look at her. Serves her right.
Emmy eventually shows up with her own dinner, a significantly larger portion of fried chicken. “I hope you realize that the Ikea burger’s macronutrient profile is not, in fact, optimal unless you are making choices based on proximity to the gym,” she comments.
“Emmy, what the fuck are you talking about?” Rupali at least does not have any bandwidth for server nonsense.
Throughout the week, a pattern emerges: When Rupali isn’t here, I’m stuck dealing with Kathy and Rashmi all on my own, practically helpless in the face of their shenanigans. It’s tempting to spend most of this time by myself.
I can’t stand watching how fucking happy they seem to be around each other.
On the other hand, when Rupali is here, we find that we’re not the ones driving Rashmi and Katherine to jealousy, but rather trying to catch up with the torment they’ve been subjecting me to since last time. As fun as it is to see the look on Rashmi’s face when Rupali puts her arm around me and starts nibbling on my ear, it feels like we’re on the back foot.
Rupali’s support is a huge help regardless. With her around, I have the necessary motivation and support to get to work cleaning my room, picking up the pile of clothes and dealing with the mess on my desk so it’ll be a less off-putting, more welcoming space that we can make use of.
We keep the door open throughout, of course, and as we spot Rashmi while carrying the laundry basket through the living room Rupali makes sure to tell me all about how excited she is that we’re making space to bring over some of her things, for when she wants to sleep over. Rashmi is not pleased, to say the least.
As much as Rupali’s visits help, I still spend most of my week without her. By the time we reach Friday afternoon, I’m at my breaking point. With the other roommates busy, I’m alone with Katherine for the first time in a while, and she just won’t shut up about khichdi.
“...And so, the crucial part is that you absolutely cannot underestimate the amount of hydration demanded by rice. Should you select a vessel lacking in volume, you will not,
can not
achieve the vaunted softness so desired by purveyors of this storied recipe.” Kathy is perched on the armrest on the left side of the couch, opposite to where I’m sitting with my phone. I really wish she was rambling about
any
other subject. “When I got it right, Rashmi was so delighted, Nichole! It was incredible! She was so patient with my mistakes and worked with me to correct all of it!”
She’s so fucking happy about having her cooking project validated, each of her words like she’s applying her newfound skills with the kitchen knife straight to my heart.
“Right. Sure. Yeah.” I stand up. “I’m not listening to this shit.”
Katherine gets up and follows me, stopping just short of grabbing on to my arm. “But Nichole—”
“Nope.” I stop just short of slamming the door in her face. “Go tell someone else how amazing Rashmi is.”
I avoid screaming for exactly as long as it takes to reach the bed and slam my face into the pillow. If Kathy hears my muffled shouts, she’ll just have to deal with it. My throat is raw and my vision is blurry. Rashmi is
so
considerate and patient! So much better than me, who called out Kathy’s fuckup to the whole server and ruined everything.
Fuck her. I hope Rashmi suffers every time she sees me with Rupali. I pull my phone out and speed-dial 1.
“Hey, Ru. Can we talk?”
Rupali takes a moment to respond. “Yeah. It sounds like you need it.”
At least she understands.
Rupali’s arrival brings a welcome relief. When she’s around, things feel more stable, less hopelessly impossible to control. She gives me the best hugs, slides her hands up and down my back, caresses me and comforts me and kisses me. It makes it all so much easier to bear.
“We should get Katherine and Rashmi to join us for a movie,” she says. “Kind of a double date, so we can really focus on making them jealous.”
“Won’t they be too busy watching the movie, though?”
Rupali grins, leaning forward as she explains: “Not if we pick the right movie.”
The plan, then, is simple: We pick a movie we won’t be too invested in, so we can focus on flaunting our happy bliss.
Emmy gets a token offer to join as well, to which she responds: “I’m going to the gym. You might remember the concept of going there from the multiple times I’ve reminded you about best practices for maximizing volume gains. Then again, it is evident that you are immune to the consequences of such negligence.”
So that’s a no.
With everyone else gathered and snacks ready, choosing a movie turns out a lot easier than expected. Katherine is excited about a mid-10s anime movie about post-apocalyptic lesbian magical girls fighting for the wasteland in trucks assembled from garbage, which can inexplicably transform into battle mechs.
I kind of
want
to watch this movie, which makes it wholly incompatible with the idea we had in mind. Much as I hate doing so, I vote against, but Rashmi backs Katherine and weirdly so does Rupali.
“Trust me on this,” she whispers in response to my confusion.
Admittedly, the movie is possibly one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen. The first half hour hooks me in so masterfully I almost forget that the
point
of all this is to be teasing Katherine and Rashmi.
Well, just Rashmi. Kathy is completely spellbound, so fixated on the movie she barely even notices Rashmi, let alone either of us.
And Rupali is deliberately, noisily grabbing popcorn and feeding the kernels to me one at a time, while we catch glances from Rashmi, who’s left without Katherine to back her up.
Now that I’ve caught on, I get it. I play along with Rupali’s cutesy antics throughout the movie, slowly escalating alongside her while Rashmi is unable to get Katherine’s attention. As the movie progresses, we end up with Rupali practically laying on top of me, to Rashmi’s chagrin.
By the time the credits roll, I’ve completely lost track of what the movie was actually about. It’s hard to pay attention to that when I’ve got Rupali practically melting into me and Rashmi glaring at the both of us, twitching slightly in frustration.
“Was that not utterly incredible?” Kathy turns towards the three of us, finally acknowledging the world outside of the movie. “I am still in disbelief about how well they integrated the extraterrestrial invaders into the rest of the plot!”
“Yeah wow, that was pretty unbelievable!” I have no recollection of any aliens in the movie.
“It was pretty good.” Rashmi pulls Katherine in for a kiss, and she reciprocates. “You picked a great movie, babe.”
Right back to the lovebird routine the moment Kathy isn’t distracted, of course. Rupali wastes no time responding, grinning conspiratorially at me before grabbing the back of my head, pulling me close, and before I know it she’s chewing on my bottom lip and running her tongue across it.
It’s surprisingly easy to just relax, go along with it, follow her lead as she gropes and mauls and paws at me. Just forget that it’s an act and go with the flow. Moan unexpectedly, without consciously deciding to do so.
For a moment, everything else fades away. It feels so good, so natural, so fucking irresistible and delicious.
“Anyway.” Rashmi’s interruption is ice cold, cutting through the indulgent haze and forcing us both back to reality. “It’s getting a bit late, isn’t it? We should check the bus schedule before it gets
too
late.”
Rupali sits up, and almost instinctively I follow her motion, desperate to stay inside her intoxicating presence just a bit longer.
“Well it’s already late enough that they’re doing night routes.” Rupali strokes her chin as she talks. “Why don’t I just sleep over?”
Rashmi inhales sharply. “Sure. I’ll get a bedsheet for the couch, and you can have my spare pillow so—”
“I mean, why would I sleep on the couch when Nichole’s bed is right there?” Rupali points at my bedroom.
“My bed? But—” Rupali bumps her elbow into my side. “Yeah, Rupali can sleep over in my bed, I’ve got plenty of space.”
The look on Rashmi’s face is priceless.
We retreat into my room. “I was going to get you your own pillow over the weekend, sorry—”
“It’s fine, I’m the one who dropped this on you without any forewarning.” Rupali looks around, making herself comfortable. “We’ll take care of it tomorrow, that and getting the rest of my stuff over here.”
Rupali sits down on my bed while I keep standing, unsure what to do with myself.
“So you’re planning to stay over more often?” I look around the room, trying not to fidget too nervously.
“I mean, we’re clearly in this for the long haul.” Rupali lays back on the bed, making herself comfortable as she looks up at the ceiling. “We’ve got a week’s worth of evidence saying you can’t handle the two of them alone, so we should plan for me to be here
way
more often.”
“Yeah.” I sit down next to Rupali, and rest my head on her shoulder. “Thanks for being here for me.”
“It’s not like this is some huge burden on me, you know. I like hanging out with you, even if we’re doing it under some weird circumstances.” Rupali gently strokes my back as she talks. “You’re helping me deal with their nonsense too, remember.”
“I guess so.” I lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. “Feels like I’ve been doing a shit job of it though.”
Rupali lays down next to me, arm around my chest. “You’re doing great. Did you see Rashmi today? I swear she was about to explode during the movie.”
“About to, but she didn’t.” I hold on to Rupali’s arm with my own. I don’t want her to let go, this is the first time I’ve felt genuinely relaxed all week.
“We’ll get there. Trust me.” She repositions, resting her head on my chest while wrapping my arms around her. “And relax. We can’t let our whole lives revolve around how they’re reacting to us at all times, it’s going to drive us both crazy. We should try to have some fun with all this.”
“Got any ideas in mind?” I can’t help but feel slightly intoxicated by how close she is.
Rupali slowly runs her hand down my back. “Well, you tell me. What do lesbian couples usually get up to, do you think?”
I can think of one thing I’d never dare to suggest, that’s for sure. Scrambling to come up with anything else, I try the first fully clothed activity that comes to mind. “Like board games or something?”
“Sure, Nichole. We can play board games or something.” Rupali exhales quickly through her nose, in that almost-laugh way. “You’re lucky that you’re so cute.”
As the night drags on, Rupali falls asleep much quicker than I’ve ever been able to, and I’m left with my own thoughts and what feels like mere millimeters of space between me and her. Laying completely still so as to not disturb her, even though I’d really like to reposition myself, get a bit comfortable.
I feel like I should assist her with getting into a position that’s less intimate, as while I know she’s okay with cuddling while awake, I don’t know if she’d want to sleep like this.
At the same time, I don’t want to wake her up when she’s resting so peacefully. Instead, I just try my best to fall asleep as well, try
not
to think too hard about the incredibly pretty girl pressing her body against mine, who’s choosing to sleep with her face in my tits after a day of going above and beyond in our fake relationship.
That’s what she’s doing, of course. I’d be a fool to ever start assuming she wants more than this with me, and judging by the talk she had with Tahani last week I wouldn’t even be the first to make that mistake.
It hurts, but at least the certainty helps. When we succeed, she’ll be back together with Rashmi, and hopefully I’ll have another chance with Katherine. There won’t be any reason for us to stay together at that point, so I shouldn’t get too attached.
As if it’d ever be possible to avoid getting attached to this beautiful woman sleeping peacefully in my arms.
Having Ru over for the rest of the weekend is a huge help. It’s not just emotional support either, she’s genuinely creative with her ideas for how to provoke Rashmi!
For example, I definitely wouldn’t have thought of baking together as a response to Kathy’s whole thing about learning to cook all of Rashmi’s favorite foods. It’s perfect not just because occupying the kitchen gets in the way of another food-induced spontaneous table makeout, but also because we’re doing it
together
. Kathy wifing it up for Rashmi in an apron is cute and all, but by working together Rupali and I can be obnoxiously saccharine throughout the process,
and
flaunt the finished product afterwards. It’s pretty much perfect.
Our dessert of choice is chocolate cupcakes with frosting. Not too complicated, but with enough work involved to keep us busy for a while. “And importantly,” Rupali explains, “If we start on the frosting before they’re in the oven, we’ll be handling something liquid the entire time.”
It’s not immediately apparent to me what I’m supposed to get from that, but Rupali clearly expects me to get what she’s hinting at.
I’m taking on the task of putting the batter in the molds, a messy process that gets a significant amount of it on my hands, while Rupali works on the frosting. As I’m about halfway through, Rashmi walks into the living room carrying a laundry basket.
Almost as soon as Rashmi’s through the door, Rupali grabs my wrist, giving me the ‘just play along with this, okay?’ look. I nod, and the next thing I know Rupali is licking the batter off my fingers, thoroughly lapping up every hint of chocolate as I stand there, stunned, dreading the possibility that the skirt I’m wearing will do
nothing
to hide an erection.
Rashmi in turn is glaring at me, one of her eyes twitching slightly. “That’s unsanitary,” she grits her teeth as she talks. “Wash your hands properly before you touch anything related to food.”
“Sure, I was going to.”
After my hands are clean, I spend the rest of the baking session trying my absolute best to face towards the kitchen counter at all times. The downstairs situation is exactly as bad as I feared.
Finally, after some time in the oven and another round of quality time spent decorating, the cupcakes are ready. The real fun comes from sharing them, of course.
“You made these?” Katherine inspects the cupcakes with suspicion upon being presented with them.
“Yeah, with Rupali. It was her idea for something we could do together, you know, just for the sake of it.” I find myself genuinely smiling about that.
“Well. I am glad that you enjoyed yourselves,” Kathy’s eyes are downcast. “I will not intrude if you intend to keep the results to yourselves.”
“Oh, nah, have some. We made plenty.” I watch her sample one of the cupcakes, and my mind drifts to how Rashmi will be absolutely fuming when she, too, has to politely accept the cupcakes I made with
her
fiancée.
Emmy, who shows up somewhat later in the day looking frazzled but weirdly upbeat, tries one as well.
“This is what you’ve been getting up to while neglecting the server? Fine, I’ll let it slide for today.”
She shakes her head and heads straight to her room.
Rupali keeps staying over intermittently throughout the next week, and it’s a huge weight off my shoulders to have her around.
It’s not all fun and games, though. Emmy’s completely fucking incomprehensible relationship with Mona is a persistent and irritating presence in the apartment, and Mona in particular makes herself
known
when she can. With all the jabbering about how amazing it feels to have a
real man
, it’s almost like she never moved out.
The giddiness about her new relationship would almost be endearing, if not for the fact that the ‘guy’ in question is
Emmy
. It’s frankly maddening to watch Mona absolutely smitten with someone who flip-flops between talking about the ideal way to maximize the benefits of ‘femme presentation boost exploits’ and insisting loudly on her male identity.
“Isaac was telling me about his spreadsheets the other day, he is
so
meticulous with his analysis. Can you believe he’s both smart
and
handsome in like, a boyband kind of way?”
“You’re into… boybands?” I’m so overwhelmed by the sheer volume of nonsense I just heard that I have to focus on the least weird part.
“Well, I’ve been something of a secret Solitary Way fan for a long time.” Mona smiles, sheepishly. “Larry Stylish was one of my first celebrity crushes, I kept a hidden stash of merch in my room.”
“Larry… who?” I squint at Mona.
“Nichole, please. You’re not getting anywhere competition-wise by pretending you don’t know who Larry Stylish is.” Mona rolls her eyes at me. “He is an absolute icon of gender nonconforming men’s fashion, and
incredibly
handsome to boot. He even has a sizable lesbian fanbase, you know!”
“And you’re saying Emmy’s ‘handsome’ like that? How is she ‘handsome’ like lesbian icon Larry Stylus, exactly?”
Mona scoffs at me. “
He
, as he’s asked me to refer to him when we’re not maintaining his cover to outsiders, is well-groomed, takes care of his skin and shows impeccable fashion sense. That’s how.”
I roll my eyes right back at her. “Sure, Mona, your
boyfriend
has a really chic collection of gender non-conforming hoodies.”
Unlike Katherine and Rashmi however, Emmy and Mona at least spend significant chunks of their time elsewhere. As Mona is quick to inform me, she’s taken on a big workload helping prepare a GSA Halloween party, which I’m not to tell
anyone
is also supposed to double as Quinn’s official campaign announcement. Whoever that is. “It’s such a drag, dealing with venue booking and planning under
extra
scrutiny after the last event. Can’t afford to make mistakes this time around, I’m on thin ice already.”
“Well, if there’s anything I can do to help with that, I’m all ears.” After all, I did tell the server I would try to get involved with the GSA.
Mona gives me a weird, sort of judgmental look in response. “Would Rupali be okay with that? I mean, look, there’s a lot of history with that organization that I don’t know if you’re entirely aware of, and I’d hate for you to get in over your head.”
“Well, I genuinely want to get involved in the community.” I really hate how Mona’s surface-level niceness is delivered with a side of condescension.
Mona sighs, shaking her head. “I really advise that you discuss this with Rupali, at least. She’s a lot more capable of speaking her mind directly on this stuff than I am.”
“Thanks for the heads-up, I guess?”
Luckily, the conversation doesn’t drag on for too long. Emmy has concert tickets to go see a Solitary Way cover band, and Mona is swooning at how considerate and assertive her “man” is as they head out, hand in hand, looking like the world’s most stereotypical butchfemme couple.
Towards the tail end of the week, Rupali and I decide to occupy the TV to play video games. Mostly to kill some time while Rashmi is out for evening classes, but we figure if Rashmi comes home to the two of us gaming together it’ll really fuck with her.
As it turns out, Rupali is really into the newest good
Blazing Shield
game, a series where every other entry is complete dogshit. What started as a bit of a joke about doing a women-only challenge run where we aim for the highest possible number of lesbian pairings–all two of them–turned into a collaborative effort where we’re putting our minds together to optimize the characters as much as possible.
This is mostly fun, but there’s a lot of forward planning to do, and we do get a bit stuck at times.
“I mean, we’ve got the healer role covered so I don’t
think
we need Daniella to be focusing on it.” I look at the menu in front of us, assigning the characters to train from a long list of skills.
“The sword talent could be interesting…” Rupali leans forward, deep in thought. “We should probably get started on flight training already?”
“Personally, I find that the most narratively satisfying choice is to lean into Daniella’s offensive potential and train her in riding to act as a frontline character, as it leads to an implicit development where her initial timid nature is overcome through hardship faced during the war.”
Right. Kathy’s also here, perched on the armrest of the couch and watching the game like a hawk. “Having her take a few levels of Fellknight before swapping to Justiciar–after acquiring the damage boosting skill–is particularly excellent, as it could reflect her noble intentions wavering for a moment before she finds her way back to the light.”
“Huh. Haven’t tried that before.” I’m baffled by Kathy suddenly displaying this much highly specific knowledge about this game. I didn’t even know she’d played it.
“Is it actually a good build though? We’re sort of playing on Lunatic here.” Rupali taps on the controller as she ponders the options in front of her.
Katherine scoffs. “I will have you know it is one of the highest tier builds for the Justiciar.”
“Sure. For the
Justiciar
, but I’m not separating her from her soulmate Brandy just so she can get stuck on the endgame terrain as a riding class.” Rupali rolls her eyes as she quickly assigns both characters to flight training. “You really should know the Crimson Blade route is hell for riders if you want to have an opinion here.”
Katherine turns slightly pink, eyes widening as she processes being told off. “Well, certainly, but for such an optimal build for the character I do enjoy that its thematic implications are—”
“There’s nothing textually that supports Daniella having a crisis of faith, Kathy. That’s just a headcanon people make up to rationalize the build because it makes no sense in the story.” Rupali rapidly runs through the downtime section of the game while bouncing her leg impatiently.
“W–well, the same could be said of the interpretation that she and Brandy are together, seeing as they do not even have an S-rank support!” Katherine fidgets a little as she speaks, her voice about an octave higher than usual. “Not that I do not enjoy the ship, to be clear.”
Pausing the game, Rupali turns to stare directly at Katherine. “You think the childhood best friends who spend all their time together, have abilities meant to synergize with each other and show nowhere near as much interest in any other characters throughout the game aren't together? Did you play the same game I did?”
“I certainly did, and as one who is well-versed in the subject of romances brought forth from long term friendship, I simply do not consider those two’s dependent relationship to be a healthy foundation for romantic entanglements!” Katherine’s wild gesticulating makes her lose balance for a moment, and she quickly scrambles to avoid falling off her perch. “While the trope is appealing at a surface level, the complex emotions involved in such a situation realistically require a great deal of maturity from both involved parties to avert disaster.”
Before I get to say anything about this topic, Rupali is on the case. “Yeah, that’s the
point
! I wrote a fanfic about all of those issues, you know! I went through every potential issue in their dynamic with a fine-toothed comb and examined
everything
that could go wrong.”
The tension between the two is so much it’s almost tangible. Katherine glares at Rupali, responding with a snarl: “Does it matter that you wrote with awareness of these problems, given that you chose to pair them up regardless?”
“It matters,” Rupali inches closer to Katherine’s face, “because I write it as a toxic relationship shaped by the pressure of the war they’re fighting in.”
Katherine blinks, looks at me, looks back at Rupali, opens her mouth to say something, then closes it again for a moment, before finally answering in a low, defeated tone. “Well, in that case it is clear that you possess the superior understanding of their dynamic.”
She slides off the armrest, standing up and heading towards her bedroom door, hunched over and avoiding eye contact with either of us. “I shall take my leave and tend to my own matters now, as it is evident that my company is neither needed nor desired in this situation.” She faces Rupali for a moment. “All I ask is that you send me a link to your writing, as it sounds rather excellent.”
Before any of us get to answer, she shuts the door behind her. I’ve never seen someone shut Katherine down like this.
“I think we finally got to her,” Rupali smirks at me.
“What do you mean?”
“Well she barely reacted even when we kissed right in front of her, in case you haven’t noticed.” Rupali picks the controller back up from the table and resumes the game. “But I guess knowing less than me about a game you also like is worse, in her mind.”
“Should I go make sure she’s okay?” I lean forward and prepare to stand up. “I mean, if you’re right then she probably needs some emotional support, doesn’t she?”
Rupali shrugs. “She’s not going to realize what she’s losing out on if you come running after her any time she needs it, Nichole. Let Katherine stew in jealousy, that’s what we’re trying to do here, remember?”
“Good point, actually.” I settle back down on the couch.
In a way, I feel comforted by the idea that Katherine would be upset by this. I was starting to worry that she might have been completely over me, but clearly there’s still something here. I don’t really know what I’d do if she’d genuinely, fully moved on.
Mona, however, has clearly moved on. As Emmy gets settled into the apartment and begins having her over more frequently, the thinness of the walls coupled with the frequent, loud escapades they’re getting up to in there borders on making the neighboring rooms uninhabitable. It’s a tremendously awkward thing to deal with.
Friday afternoon comes around, and we’re in my room to try to pre-emptively secure some peace and quiet in case Emmy and Mona show up. Rupali is leaning back in the chair next to my desk, where she’s cleared out her own dedicated space for when she has homework to take care of. Meanwhile, I’m sort of checked out for the rest of the week and killing time by scrolling on my phone.
“You know,” Rupali interrupts the silence unprompted, “isn’t it weird that we only ever hear noise from those two?”
“It’s weird that we’re hearing them fuck each other at all, honestly.” I shudder a little at the thought. “What about it?”
Rupali spins in her chair and faces towards me. “Well, think about it. We’re getting a painfully clear idea of what it sounds like when Emmy and Mona are going at it, but we’ve never heard anything from Kathy and Rashmi, or at least I haven’t.”
Come to think of it, she’s right. “Me neither, actually.”
“Think it’s possible they haven’t done it?”
I’m a bit taken aback by the question. “I mean, I sort of assumed they had? We only found out about Rashmi and Mona after the fact, so I figured it was the same procedure here?”
Getting out of the chair, Rupali slowly walks towards me as she talks. “You know, I was thinking the same, but I’m really starting to suspect I was wrong. Maybe Rashmi actually learned from experience, and they’re taking it slow this time around?”
“Anything could happen, I guess.” I’m not sure what to do with this information, honestly, aside from feeling oddly relieved by the possibility that they’re in a sexless relationship.
“It makes sense, doesn’t it? I mean, neither of them are the assertive types, right?” She sits down on the bed next to me.
“Rashmi seemed pretty assertive with Katherine last week.”
Slowly leaning towards me, Rupali strokes her chin a little as she speaks. “Uncharacteristically so. I think she may have used up all the initiative she had on that one stunt.”
“I guess I see what you mean.” I scoot over a little bit so Rupali has space. “And I guess if they haven’t done anything yet, they’re going to take a while to get around to it.”
“Yeah, even if we take our time, we’ll be beating them to that punch.”
“Huh?”
I heard the words she said perfectly well, but the meaning she’s trying to convey is going to need some clarification before I believe I understood that correctly. She can’t possibly have meant that she wants us to… have sex?
Rupali lays down and, with a smooth motion of her arm, snaps my phone out of my hands. “I mean, I do moan pretty loudly.”
Right. She’s saying exactly what I thought she was. “They’d definitely hear it, then?”
“Definitely,” Rupali whispers into my ear as she moves closer, the sensation of her breath sending little shivers of anticipation through my body.
We could just lie and say we did it, I don’t say out loud. I figure she’s already considered that possibility and besides, I’m suddenly feeling very uninterested in pointing out ways to make this idea unnecessary.
Instead, I say: “That’s a great point.”
Did that make sense as a response? I don't know, I'm not really thinking clearly. The amount of direct contact between Ru’s bare thighs and mine is making it hard to focus on anything else. Ru’s not really talking much anymore, anyway. I can feel her lazily drifting down the length of my arms with her fingers until they’re interlaced with mine, and she clutches my hands so tightly it almost hurts. I suck in a sharp breath, my eyes locked on Ru’s, and go limp.
I can tell she has plans for me.
Ru immediately grabs my wrists, placing my hands beside my head and firmly pressing them into my pillows. She leans forward until our noses almost touch, her breath hot on my lips. We’re panting, salivating, mouths open, eyes wide. My breasts push into hers as we rhythmically inhale and exhale, nipples straining against the fabric. I wonder what it’d feel like if we were both topless. I wonder if I should ask, but I’m too scared of breaking the spell that’s fallen over us.
When did she hike my skirt up? I don’t even remember it happening, or I’d have thought to be self-conscious about wearing my plain black granny panties. At present, though, all I can think of is how thin the barriers are between the most intimate parts of us. She can definitely feel how hard I am. How much I’m twitching.
And I definitely, definitely feel her twitching and throbbing and shuddering too.
“You’re so fucking pretty.” Ru’s staring at me so hard.
“So—so are—”
More shuddering. Nails digging into my flesh. Hips bucking. Ru’s thrusting into me, slowly but steadily, and steadily picking up the pace, too.
“You—You’re so—” My eyes roll back in my head as I struggle to speak. “Fucking…
fuck
!”
My bedsprings are fucking LOUD.
“I’m what, Nic?” I can hear the smirk in Ru’s voice, even if I can’t see it. “I’m so what?”
“You’re so—you’re so—” Faster, faster, how does she keep going faster? “You’re fucking me so good!”
My panties, her shorts, are absolutely slick now. Because of my—and her—because of
us
, because of how unbelievable it feels, because of how relentless and ravenous and ravishing Rupali is and how pretty she thinks I am and I can’t even tell if I’ve cum or if I’m going to cum because all of it just feels so, so good.
And she’s still going faster!
“Ru!” I keep saying her name now, over and over. “Oh my gosh, Ru!”
Our lips touch as we moan into each other’s mouths. She sounds as amazing as she feels. She feels heavenly, otherworldly, like fire made flesh made pleasure. I think I’ve been cumming for like five minutes straight, which I didn’t even know was possible, because even as I’ve been absolutely ruining our clothing it’s still been building up, somehow!
I’m screaming now. “I’m—I—RU!”
“YES!” She’s screaming too. “YES—RA—AH!”
In the midst of all the gushing and wailing and convulsing, through the absolute flood between our legs, I do dimly register that Ru uttered a syllable I wasn’t quite expecting her to. It causes me a moment of disquiet.
A moment that is instantly washed away by the sheer intensity of my ensuing orgasm. I almost black out.
We just lay there, then, in the aftermath. Ru half slides off me, her face buried in my pillows.
“Fuck,” I say to the ceiling.
There’s a sudden knock on the door, and Rupali turns her head towards it, eyes wide,
grinning
. Emmy’s voice quickly follows: “Nichole? What the fuck are you doing in there?”
“Aaw, wrong roommate.” Rupali releases me from her grip as she lays down.
“Yeah, I really got my hopes up for a minute.” We grin at each other as I picture how Rashmi would react to me greeting her with Rupali’s cum dripping down my thighs. Emmy’s persistent banging on the door doesn’t leave me much room for idle daydreaming, though.
I get up, sort myself out a little, and open the door. “Hey, what’s going on?”
Emmy glares at me from behind her glasses, nose flaring and teeth bared. “Of course you’d ask that. Among all the baffling torments I have to endure, there’s really nothing that compares to the never-ending disappointment of your continued ignorance of all pertinent matters!”
“Right. Server bullshit.” I roll my eyes at her, running out of patience fast. I desperately want to get back to Rupali and… what we were doing. “I thought we had that handled? Like let’s just post some more stuff about how femboys are valid or whatever and call it a day? I’m sort of busy here.”
“Yes, sure, let’s go for another quick fix and leave it. That worked out
amazing
last time, after all!” Emmy throws her hands up in the air, shaking her head. “I am going to need you to start taking the competition seriously again, Nichole. That means you
prioritize it
. The thing that will yield a prize for you is competitive mammogenesis, not passive-aggressive couples’ posturing.”
“I’m growing them as fast as I can, aren’t I?” I cup my breasts for emphasis, wishing it was Rupali holding them instead.
“No amount of aberrantly voluminous mammaries will do you any good if you fail to curb threats against your ongoing participation, Nichole.” Emmy continues glaring directly at my boobs, lingering for significantly longer than she should.
“My eyes are up here, by the way.”
“Irrelevant, given that they are not on the prize.” She quickly redirects her gaze to make eye contact again. “Make no mistake, you are not unique in growing complacent in response to an early lead. Many before you have been in similar positions to, only to be struck down for their hubris.
“Okay. Chill, girliepop. If someone’s trying for a tribunal we can handle it, right?” I lean against the door frame, trying to look suave.
Emmy pushes her glasses into place. “I am neither a girlie nor someone who pops, and you are sorely mistaken about what we are doing. This is a pre-emptive strike, you cannot afford to be on the defensive here.”
I sigh. Clearly she’s not going to get off my ass any time soon. “Okay, what are we doing?”
“
You
are going to launch a tribunal.”
Rupali
I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing anymore.
Nichole. Under me. Breathing so heavily. Clutching at me for dear life. Grabbing my waist so hard I thought she’d tear through the clothes and skin and fucking hell I wanted her to, I really wanted her to.
I really have a weakness for dense girls, don’t I?
Kind of glad Emmy pulled her away, though. It’s easy in the moment. Grabbing her wrist to lick frosting off her fingertips. Climbing on top of her to stick my tongue down her throat. All when Rashmi’s watching, when I need to hammer home just what she’s missing out on, just what she could have if she’d just fucking let me climb on top of her and tear her stupid clothes off and grab her by the jaw while I hiss at her through my teeth about what a naughty, naughty girl she’s been.
I said her fucking name at the moment of climax, didn’t I?
Half of it. Maybe. I caught myself in time. I think. Tried to pass it off. Nichole probably didn’t notice.
She’s plenty oblivious most of the time, it’s fine.
Which is a fucking shame because holy hell she’s hot. Girl just cannot get a clue at the best of times. I wanted to pull her panties off with my teeth three days in and yet here we are two weeks down the line and I’ve only managed to use her like a throw pillow with my ex’s face on it.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I’m glad I got home okay because I do not remember doing it. I changed into a spare skirt and crept out while Emmy yelled a bunch of incomprehensible stuff at Nichole in the kitchen, and then I just spaced out on the bus so hard I missed my stop. Which sucked because it took me that much longer to just rush home and collapse on the couch and let my keys fall on the floor and stare at the ceiling and try to piece together what the fuck is even going on in my life and in my head and in my fucking panties.
I’m still tingling.
I haven’t been to class in two weeks.
Too late to change courses and majors and life tracks
again
, and there’s no Kim to help me this time, is there?
Oh, fuck me,
Kim
.
My fingers scrabble around the floor until they hit my phone. I hold it up in front of my face. Three unread texts.
Mom[1 hour ago]:
You still haven’t wished Ritu happy birthday in the family groupchat, remember to…
Kim[1 day ago]:
I e-mailed you my notes from today as well. Ru, I really don’t think you…
Tahani[5 days ago]:
My point is just, like, don’t feel like you can’t talk to me. Whenever you’re ready, I’m…
You’d think that if I had to meticulously account for my every move on a daily call, mom wouldn’t also be constantly texting me. And you’d be wrong. I’ll get right on wishing Ritu a happy fucking birthday, mother. Which cousin was she, again? Ah, yes, the one who once told me that lesbians should be kicked out of women’s locker rooms and made to change with the boys. I’ll get right on wishing her a
great day, good times, fuck OFF, yours sincerely, Rupali, DYKE WHORE.
I’m gonna have to face Kim and Tahani sooner or later, if only to avoid flunking out of school. Would be hard to hide
that
from the family. But I can’t. I just can’t. I’m not like them. Tahani would actually be able to call herself a dyke whore out loud without instantly being wracked with the stupid fucking shame cascade I still can’t fucking shake no matter how bad I just want it to go away so I can enjoy cumming all over girls. Tahani actually
is
a dyke whore and not just desperately wishing she could be one, having to pretend until it’s time to put a garland around the woman I’m going to have to call my
husband
, retch. I’m never going to be like Tahani. I don’t have what it takes.
I want to be like her so, so bad but I just can’t.
Tahani deserves an apology from me but I don’t know what to say to her. Sorry for being angry that you saw how stupid I was being. Sorry for being pissed that you understand the very core of me in a way no one ever will, not even the woman I’m going to marry. Sorry that you reminded me that you have everything I want and then I acted like a petty jealous bitch even though I know how much you’ve lost and how unfair it is for me to be jealous when I’m not willing to be even a little bit brave.
I text Ritu a happy birthday in the group chat and then bite my hand to avoid screaming like a wild animal.
Their faces keep flashing in front of my eyes. Nichole, sweaty and panting. Rashmi, putting her hands on Katherine’s waist so delicately I want to punch her. Kim, her teeth closing around my nipple. Tahani—
I pick up my phone, unlock it, and start texting. “
Please come over right now. Please. I’ll talk. It needs to be in person. Please.
”
Twenty minutes later, Kim’s face flickers into view on my security feed. I buzz her in. I realise I’ve somehow forgotten to figure out what the fuck I’m supposed to say to her as I open the door to face her.
“H-Hey?” I stutter, staring at her shamelessly.
She stands there, in a short strappy dress that leaves her magnificent shoulders and arms and holy fuck her thighs on full display. I suddenly am very aware of how I left my cumsoaked panties on Nichole’s floor and did not have a replacement pair to put on before I left. She walks forward and I step aside to admit her, feeling dazed.
Kim folds her arms and waits for me to close the door before she begins speaking. “Look, you don’t owe me an explanation.”
“I… don’t?”
“No. I get it. You have entanglements.” Kim waves a hand around dismissively. “I got too intense. Fool rushed in. Made too many demands and promises. Rookie mistake. Won’t happen again.”
Every word she says breaks my heart a little. I want to cry. “Right.”
“So just forget about it, all right?” Kim says, and I can barely maintain my composure. “It’s not important. You don’t have to avoid Tahani because of whatever stupid thing happened between us. It doesn’t matter.”
Oh. She thinks that’s why.
“I’m okay. I mean, I’m not.” Kim very suddenly looks away from me. “But I will be.”
I find my voice. “You’re not?”
“I shouldn’t have said that—look, I’ll be fine.” Kim’s hands are balling up into fists. “I promise, I won’t make it weird. Are you going to talk to Tahani?”
I close the distance between us, grab Kim’s face with both hands and practically jump into her arms as I shove my lips against hers hard enough for our teeth to collide.
If that took Kim by surprise, she doesn’t show it. Her hands are on me like she was just waiting for the opportunity to run them up my back, down my sides, groping and kneading and gouging until all I can do is pant into her mouth.
“Please!” I gasp.
We don’t make it to the bed. We don’t even make it to the couch. I drag her down to the floor with me, her face under my skirt, and I pull at her hair and throw my head back and howl at the heavens like I’m lost in a frozen, barren wasteland and I’m numb and dying and struggling to breathe and please, please, please just let me feel good instead of everything, anything else,
please, Kim, please
.