Lacey came home, changed back into her pajamas, and crashed just before two a.m.
She awoke after nine, her eyes opening to discover Dylan sleeping next to her in only panties.
Lacey smiled. Dylan, more than two years younger than her, only just twenty-one, looked especially beautiful in repose, like an angel escaped from a renaissance painting.
Dylan worked a night shift, from ten to six, without a break. It wasn't unusual for Lacey to get a call from Dylan asking to come and join her, to help pass at least a couple of the long, late hours.
She was happy to do it during the summer, when she only had a few classes. During the fall and spring semesters, though, it became more of a challenge to do her studying and write papers while losing so much sleep.
Dylan was the first girl to ever express any interest in her. For so long, Lacey had dreamed of being with someone exactly like her. But those were the fantasies of a lonely, bullied nerd. She was growing up. And even though she loved Dylan, valued her, with her future in sight and her goals so close to being achieved, Lacey realized that her desires were maturing, too.
More and more, she felt guilty for wishing Dylan would grow up with her.
Dylan grumbled, pouting adorably in her sleep as she shifted some.
Lacey sighed, disregarding the persistent thoughts. She only became so overly anxious after such long nights.
Everything's going to be fine, she assured herself. You love her, and she loves you. And that's all that matters.
Lacey got out of bed, gently closed the bedroom door behind her, and quietly spent the morning online. She enjoyed spiced tea and butter cookies while pouring over tech blogs and articles. After the last cookie and final sip, she did some personal research, taking notes on potential future employers in town.
As noon neared, she got some tidying done, leaving alone the mess of video games and controllers ahead of their television. That was Dylan's business.
Even after stepping out to pick up groceries, coming home and putting everything away, she knew she still had most of the afternoon to herself, and settled on the couch with a syrupy romantic drama.
Dylan didn't wake up until well after three p.m.
The door opened with a conspicuous creak, and after a moment she came out in a white logo tee, slumped and dreamy.
And she was flushed. Dylan liked to enjoy herself before getting up. And sometimes, if she happened to be nearby, Lacey would stand at the door and listen.
Lacey looked over with a welcoming smile, and Dylan listlessly smooched at her, gave her a flirty wink.
She went into the kitchen, started the coffee maker, and then came over and playfully dropped hard onto the couch, right next to Lacey, making her bounce in her seat.
Dylan rested against her, nuzzled her chest, and exhaled dreamily. "Hey, snuggle buddy."
Lacey set aside her novel and wrapped an arm around Dylan. "Hey," she cooed. "How'd you sleep?"
"Hard!" Dylan pouted. "All night long I just couldn't wait to get home and sleep next you. And then my dream came true."
Dylan affectionately placed a hand on Lacey's leg. Lacey put her hand on Dylan's and swept it tenderly over her arm, embracing her fully. Her other hand played freely with Dylan's wildly tousled locks. She inhaled deeply, enjoying her scent and warmth.
She felt Dylan smirk against her. "Are you smelling my hair?" she asked.
Lacey glanced away. "Yes."
Dylan smiled serenely. "Right on."
"What do you want to do tonight?"
Dylan shrugged. "Whatever." It was her usual response. "Play video games and eat dinner. I want pizza. I was dreaming about eating pizza with you. Is that fucked up or what?"
"That you were dreaming about me?"
"No, man!" She laughed, that charming, giggly laugh, and Lacey's heart fluttered. "About eating. It's such a fucking gross cliché. I'd rather be getting off with my hottie than eating."
Dylan's hand swept up to Lacey's chest and caressed her, fondled her. Lacey tensed with excitement at her touch.
"I'll make us breakfast!" she said, urgently. "I haven't eaten yet. Well, some cookies."
"Aw, yeah!" Dylan cheered. "That'd be dope! You're such an awesome girl. Always doing shit."
"I like doing shit."
"I like doing you!"
Dylan sat up, beaming, and triumphantly kissed Lacey on the lips. "I'm gonna powder my nose," she said, and stood. "Because I'm dainty like a motherfucker."
"Have fun!" Lacey called.
The door closed distantly.
Lacey got up and went into the kitchen to start breakfast.
She had only recently realized that every day was like this. Dylan had fun, teased her, taunted her in that way that was always playful, but sometimes needling, and she always ended up preparing their meals, doing the dishes after, making sure the bills were paid. Everything.
It was becoming clearer as she neared achieving her academic goals that Dylan was never going to be the partner she wanted. Lacey was again confronted with the notion that she might have to do something about it.
*~*~*
They had breakfast together at four, and spent the rest of the afternoon into evening just hanging out.
Lacey finished another chapter in her textbook, and then returned to the kitchen table and her laptop to do even more reading.
She looked ahead, at the couch and the television beyond it.
Dylan was playing a game where she was one of a million tiny sprites scrambling about in an open space, all shooting each other seemingly without objective or purpose. Dylan liked to go rogue, she had explained, and kill whoever was standing in front of her, whether or not they were on the same squad, and especially enjoyed hunting down those who attacked her in the virtual world.
To Lacey, it always looked like the same nightmarish farrago.
"What are you doing over there?" Dylan suddenly shouted, no less involved in her gameplay.
"I'm reading about transmitters," Lacey called back, "so one day I can build you a better wireless network, one with an infrastructure capable of supporting twice the bandwidth for your silly murder and car-stealing games."
Dylan giggled. "That's because my girl's an all-American hero!"
She grabbed her energy drink and took a hard gulp while keeping an eye on the screen. For Dylan, playing video games was a meditative act that allowed her to relax and think. And what she usually thought about was Lacey.
At six, Lacey realized they were going to have dinner sooner rather than later, and got up and went to do the few dishes left from breakfast.
If she left it up to Dylan, it would never get done. The place would be a dump. That had been well established their first month of living together. She didn't want to have to do all of the cleaning, but had somehow settled into it, accepting that it was the way of things.
She wondered if that was how she wanted things to be, though, always complaining about not having a partner who shared in the responsibilities, or could be bothered to even pretend she cared about them.
She looked at Dylan and saw someone who was basically just a rascally, irresponsible teen with few ambitions.
"Damn it! Fucking sniper," Dylan grumbled. "A pox on your house!" She sighed and set aside the controller.
The small apartment became suddenly much quieter.
Lacey stood at the sink, continuing her labors. Dylan walked over and unsubtly stood behind her, against her, lifting herself so her chin was on Lacey's shoulder. "Hey," she cooed.
"Hey." Lacey tensed, instantly and powerfully excited.
"What are you up to now?" Dylan asked.
"Just doing the dishes."
"Cool." Dylan's wicked grin could be heard as her tone became more sensual. "I was thinking about you."
"While you were playing that violent military game?"
Dylan nodded. "I was thinking about all the things I was fighting for, and what I had waiting for me back on Earth."
She reached around Lacey. One hand swept over Lacey's breast, and the other slipped effortlessly into her leggings. Lacey exhaled hard as she slid her feet apart, spreading her legs some to allow Dylan greater access.
Lacey's heart raced. This was a problem, too. She was easily, stupidly seduced. She would never complain about it, though. She enjoyed being taken. It made her feel wonderful to be wanted so badly and all of the time. And Dylan was incredibly sexy. She loved her body, her tenacity. And she was uniquely fun. What more could she want?
She enjoyed herself against Dylan's busy hands, feeling Dylan's deep breath against her neck and collar.
"I'm starting to think you're dangerous," she said.
"Full disclosure? I'm a cannonball," Dylan teased. "Kaboom." She leaned in closely then, so she was whispering sensually into Lacey's ear. "You are so fucking beautiful," she said. "I want to fuck you in a big, bad way."
Dylan caressed Lacey perfectly, above and below. Lacey breathed hard, putting her hands over Dylan's, embracing her as she was pleasured.
"I want that!" she cried. "Oh! I want you!"
Dylan leaned in. "I want to strip you naked."
"Yeah?"
"And then pin you to the bed."
"Oh, wow."
"Lick you between your legs, and kiss you…" She kissed along Lacey's neck, under her ear, masterful in her manipulations.
"Oh, fuck!"
"I want you wet on my face and crying."
Lacey released a hard shuddering breath, thrusting down on Dylan's palm. Panting, she spun around and kissed Dylan passionately. Her passion was reciprocated.
"Fuck me!" Lacey begged. "Fuck me right now."
Dylan smiled. "Sure thing."
They went into the bedroom then and stayed in there for the next few hours.
*~*~*
It was nearly nine p.m., and still they were in bed together.
The sky was finally starting to darken, the night cool over their flush, sweaty bodies.
Lacey had wrapped herself in the sheet like the demure leading lady in a romantic comedy. Next to her, Dylan was sprawled out, hands on her round stomach, with one leg crooked and one foot flat on the bed. She smiled widely. Lacey smiled with her, equally satisfied.
"Do you know what kind of trouble we can get into if they find out about us?" Dylan asked. "A fucking gorgeous Polish girl like you and a fat little Dutch girl like me?"
"Who's 'they'?"
"Shit, man. The government. TV pundits. Fucking Twitter! It'll be the scandal of the century."
Lacey sighed. She wished they could just rest and be together. Dylan always made her laugh. But her odd self-deprecation was wearing thin. "You're beautiful, Dylan. I only make love to the finest of the fine."
"Yeah," Dylan said. And exhaled. "Fuck 'em."
Dylan tossed over, sidled up to Lacey. She cupped Lacey's breast, put a leg over Lacey's, and played with her foot.
Lacey enjoyed this much more, and turned some to better feel along Dylan's side, over her round rear and amazing thighs, while staring at her substantial chest. She loved every inch of Dylan's body.
Dylan licked over her lips as her fingers danced around Lacey's breast and still-erect nipple. "I want to stay like this forever," she said quietly.
Lacey was caught off guard by the openhearted remark.
"I'm sick of dealing with all that other shit," Dylan continued. "All their fucking looks. I'm happy right here."
"I'm happy, too."
"We can live off the state and order take-out, and we can eat it in the bathtub together, and never deal with any of those lame fucking fools again. Just you and me."
"Yeah."
Lacey knew Dylan meant it, and it broke her heart.