slow burn

© Stiffneck Run Werks.

Warnings: Rated R. Contains scenes of violence,
debauchery, intense physical workouts, foul language, and…(laughs evilly while
audience holds their breaths), sex. If reading such material is illegal where
you live, then stop and turn back. If you’re under 18, good-bye. No need for
you to see this. If it is legal and you are of legal age, and this sort of
stuff bothers you, then do not read below this line...

M'Kaaaay?

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Damn, what did she do to me? One minute, I was pouring a draft the next I could see down her tits. Why on earth did she lean over like that? Not that I really minded, it just took me by surprise. Was she really serious about that servicing comment? Hoo boy. Dylan's still laughing. He thinks that stunt Shan pulled was cute. Pfft. I’ll show her servicing...

There she goes, with Leong and Nga in tow. The kids wave at me. I wave back. I look at Shan. She’s smiling slightly, her dark eyes shining as she mouths the word Later. Somewhere behind my solar plexus something goes click. And all of a sudden I want to jump the bar and grab her, kiss her, make love to her.

Oh, whom am I kidding? I’m not some horn dog, for fuck’s sake. Ever since we saw each other again, we’ve gotten close. Our friendship means a lot to me, especially because of what we just went through together. The last thing I want to do is fuck that up. Literally.

So why did she just…tease me like that?

I smile back and watch them leave. See you later…

I’ve got the usual crowd tonight. Dick is here as usual, feeding bills into the jukebox. Title TK. Again. He's played that goddamned CD so many times the whole bar's got it fucking memorized by now. He complains that his best friend doesn’t come over so much these days. When I point out that since she’s also in school and has repeatedly invited him over to her place, he makes some excuse. Something about leaving his dog alone. I'm not about to tell him that he was doing exactly that at the moment, so I pour him another pitcher anyway. Then he goes on about his ex, a.k.a. the “Jolly Queen Giant” squatting at his house again, for the fifth time. I smile, nod and empty his ashtray. Somehow I refrain from telling Dick to toss that loser out. The problem is, he is too nice. As a result he seems to attract every asshole lowlife in town. Soon the jukebox falls silent, prompting Dick to quip, “Dead air,” and make a beeline to it. He puts on Title TK. Again.

Fuck.

Kim.

Deal....

It’s a good night so far. When 8 o’clock rolls around, Officer Mike (well, he’s an ex-cop, anyway.) plunks over. Now this guy’s troubles make Dick’s look like walk in the park. And his problem of the day? It seems that Mike’s ex-wife finally managed to turn their kid against him. His only daughter hung up on him when he called to say hello. That just sucks. I get his drink he before he even asks for it. It’s not hard, really. I could always smell the gin on him. Guy’s liver must be stamped B.F. Goodrich by now, vulcanizing at an accelerated rate. Officer Mike talks for a long time. And I begin debating whether or not I should call Mom. Chanukah’s not far off.

Dylan tosses a bottle over and I catch it without looking. Ya know, maybe when there’s no band, we could juggle bottles or something. One time me an’ Wolvie started tossing shuriken back and forth. Then it progressed to knives, and finally swords, juggling them, essentially. I loved how all that metal in the air made this shimmering blur. And neither of us missed. Then the fun came to an abrupt halt, literally. All of a sudden the flying cutlery was frozen in mid-air. One sobering moment and an oh shit later…

“D’ya mind, Red? We’re trainin’.” Logan was pissed.

Jean was livid. She went on this triage on what the hell were we thinking, we could have gotten hurt and on and on.

I wasn’t about to say anything. Neither was Logan. What could we say? I wanted to get out of there before everything blew up. And here we thought that Jean was handling losing Scott to Apocalypse well. She wasn’t. I mumbled an apology, hoping it would calm her down. Instead, she started crying. All of the weaponry clattered to the floor. Now I really wanted to get the fuck out of there. Logan could handle her just fine and said so. I took that cue and hoofed it. I bummed a few smokes off Remy, and found Kurt. The minute I said “Jean,” he knew. The three of us must have drunk about a case between us. Needless to say, I avoided Jean for the rest of the night. Wonder who didn’t...

Okay, so maybe juggling not such a hot idea. Mixing drinks is more fun, anyway. Somebody orders a B-52. Not a problem. I get tipped five bucks. The latest local band, called The Threat are jamming onstage. All they do are covers, but they’re pretty good. Their repertoire is kinda heavy on Floyd, which is cool. This coming weekend there’s gonna be a string quartet that’ll do their version of The Wall. I’ll bet they can top Luther Wright and the Wrongs. I’ve a half a mind to do some bootlegging. I can think of a few people who would get a kick outta it.

Dylan swings by. “Hey girl, how’s it going?”

“Great,” I reply. And it’s true, really. After all the shit I’ve been through lately, it’s nice to have some quiet times to look forward to.

“Yeah? Glad to hear it. So you gonna ask her out or what?”

Huh? Where did that come from? “Ask who out?” Way to go, Pryde. Lose a few IQ points…

He rolls his eyes as if it should be obvious who he’s talking about. “Hel-LO! Caller are you there? Shan!”

“Um…”

“You know, the cute librarian with pretty eyes? Your neighbour?”

“Well, uh…” To be fair, I was thinking about it, but not. Right. This. Second. Too late. “I might.” Dodgy, but effective.

“Oh please! What are you, blind? Have you even noticed the way she’s been looking at you lately?”

Ugh! All that’s missing is a bow and arrow. “Yes. I have.” I must look like a tomato right now. I keep seeing her tits when she leaned over. “And yes, I got an eyeful, too.” Great. Now I can’t that picture out of my head.

He starts chuckling. “Man, quit hemming and hawing and go for it.” and goes to make another fancy drink. Maybe he’s right. Maybe I oughta quit screwing around and make a move, or something. Damn, she’s got some fine tits. And that ass. One time I happened to see her bend over and I couldn’t look away. Sweeeet. Okay, enough of that. I don’t need ta spill any more beer on me. Whoops. Too late. Damn. I’ve been accused of having a dirty mind, and ya know what? Hell yeah I do.

Midnight rolls around. Time to go. Dick’s still here, just sloshed. He’s just sittin’ there, not wanting to go home, for obvious reasons. I really wish he could find a decent guy for once. Lord knows he deserves better than that asshole. I say bye to Officer Mike. He’s so drunk he nearly falls off his chair talking about this other guy he knew that had the world's worst kids. That guy is really starting to depress me.

When I finish up say good-bye, Dylan calls out, “Don’t forget what I said.” I tell him I won’t. I step outside, and the frigid December air hits me. Don’t mind the cold. I simply imagine a hot blazing sun inside my belly. It’s one of the first things Wolvie taught me. I miss him. I miss his stories and his cigars and his conspiracy theories. He’s the closest thing to a family I got and I’ve been treating him like shit for a while now. I suppose I oughta call him up and say hi, but what would I say? Damn, I need a drink. I oughta turn around and go back to the bar, but I ain’t gonna. Besides, I got a bottle of some Cuervo Gold at home.

It’s only a few blocks from work to home. A few people pass me by and cars roar in the street. A few feet from the final corner, I spot a fed in an unmarked car trying to look inconspicuous. Don’t these motherfuckers have anything better ta do than follow me around? I found a bug in my phone this morning. I squashed it. Then I thought better of it and did a little re-wiring. Now they’ll get ta hear a transmissions all right. Hope they like heavy metal cranked to top volume. Fuckers.

I have an idea. The fed’s stopped at a light. I duck outta sight and phase into the ground. I come back up right under the car. I reach into the chassis. Where’s that damn wire? Ah, there it is. Now try and follow me now, asshole. I can hear him yapping frantically into his cell or radio. Bub, you’re about ta have bigger problems than losin’ sight of me.

I go back into the ground, a little underground swimming and I surface in the lobby of my building. Nobody’s around, everyone’s just about asleep. The steps creak slightly under my feet. I reach the fifth floor. There’s Shan’s place. Should I knock? Looks dark inside, probably asleep. I want to see her again. Lately I’ve been over at her place more than I’ve been at mine. And now I can’t imagine not being with her. I could lose myself in those dark eyes, feeling her warm breath caress my face, needing to kiss those soft lips. I almost did, the other night. Even before I’d landed on top of her, it hit me that I wanted her. She had her hand in my hair and it was driving me crazy. Too bad it was the wrong place, wrong time. Typical me.

Why am I still standing here staring at her door? I turn and go up the stairs again to my floor. I don’t bother with keys, I just walk right through my door. Lose the clothes. Hit the shower. Lather soap all over my body pretending it’s Shan that’s doing it. Not long before I’m jacking off. God, the things I want to do to her. I want to hold her in my arms, whisper to her how beautiful she is, plant soft kisses on her smooth skin. I can almost taste her on my lips.

I come hard on my hand, having to prop myself against the wall. I’m left breathless, choking on the steady stream of water pouring down on me. Finally I turn the water off and grab a towel. I’m still revved up. My hands are twitching. Gotta get rid of this excess energy somehow. I have a stash of weapons tucked in the closet that the feebs missed. The katana is out of the question, not enough space to swing that around. Bo staff? Eh, no. And there ain’t no way I’m gonna take ’em on campus, I’d be asking to get expelled. I’ve got to find a dojo in this town. I wish I had a punching bag…wait. I’ve got an idea.

Vinyl couch propped up against the wall, not too shabby. Don’t make too much noise when I punch it either. I start with some jabs, nothing too fancy, just some basic shit. Then vary my blows mixed with a few low kicks. Been a while since I’d been scrappin’. When I was taking on seven guys a few weeks back, I’d never felt more alive. I got a surge of satisfaction every time I landed a punch to a gut, an elbow in the ribs, and sent teeth flying. I still can’t figure out what made me snap like that. I could have come up with a suitable insult about Jeff’s “pure blood” and walked away, but I didn’t. The morning katas are barely enough anymore. When I’m done, I’m spent and sleepy at last. I put the couch back down and sit on it a while, chugging a bottle of water.

I need to find a fucking dojo.

I shuffle to the bedroom and collapse on the bed. She’s still on my mind. Life seems a lot less shitty when she’s around. I wonder how she feels about me. I so want to kiss her right now. But she’s so gentle, so delicate, the slightest touch could make her fall apart.

Man, I’ve got it bad.


>>>::<<<

Have I been out that long? Wow, three hours of sleep and I’m up and fresh as a daisy. What’s it gonna be? Kata? An early morning run? Gotta clear my head. There are times I wish I was back at the mansion where I could use the Danger Room, or hell, even the woods out back. But those times are fewer and further away. I can’t be there, not now. Too much of a risk of being caught up in a broken dream all over again, especially now that I hear that Chuck’s been acting weird lately. When I was young, I had dreams of being a superhero and they came true. Being an X-Man allowed me to live my wildest fantasies. Everything that was thrown at me, I met head on or let pass through me. I’ve seen it all, from the greatest of triumphs to the most tragic of defeats. I’ve seen death. I wallow in the darkness clawing my way through to the tiny dot of light in the distance. Will I ever reach it? Would I be shrouded in this darkness had I not become a superhero? Maybe. Maybe not. But it no longer matters, I’m not a soldier anymore.

I am a warrior.

Okay, enough drama.

The first thing I do is stretch, getting all the kinks out. I get a head rush. Might as well get ready and go see the shrink, get it over with. Mo’s been asking me about my childhood and stuff. Like I wanna dredge that up again? The yelling, the tantrums and the slammed doors? Mom driving God knew where and not coming back for days? If anything, she needs a shrink more than I do.

Would sure be nice to have a warm body to wake up to. Well, one particular warm body. I wonder if she’s up yet. As if on cue, the phone rings. Privacy Management announces Shan’s name.

My day just got ten times better.

I wonder where my –


*sNap!!!


…


…glasses…are…

Shit.

The phone rings a few more times while I pick up the remains of my specs. Damn, right down the middle. And if that’s not bad enough, my contacts are late coming in. I called the company yesterday and they swore up and down that they would arrive today before noon. Still, I ain’t holdin’ my breath.

I hear Good Morning! over the machine and snatch up the phone. “Hey.”

Hey, yourself. Just get up?

“Yeeaah.”

You sound cheerful. What’s up with you?

“Eh.”

Lemme guess. Gotta go see the shrink, huh?

“Ugh. But wait. It gets better. I just stepped on my glasses.”

Oh no. How bad?

“Snapped in half.”

I can almost see her eyes widen. Oh my God. You have contacts, don’t you? Shan always worries like that. Not that I mind.

“Nope, I’m out and they’re late. Again. But that’s okay. The good news is, I got a spare pair.”

And the bad news?

“Well…gimme a sec and I’ll be down in a minute.”

Oh, I gotta see this...

I knew she was gonna laugh. These army-issue specs are so fucking sturdy they’re sliding down my nose. I’m gonna be poking this thing back on my face every other minute. “Go ahead. Laugh.”

She giggles and covers her mouth. “You look like Clark Kent.”

“Thanks a lot.”

“But I like Superman.”

“Really? I can’t tell. Gee, I wonder what you’re doing this Tuesday night?”

“What? Smallville’s an awesome show.”

“And it’s all about the Lana, all about the Lana. Clark is a fucking idiot. And Chloe, for fuck’s sake! Season 1, she rocked! Now…”

“Gimme those.” Before I can react Shan plucks my glasses off. “When was the last time you cleaned these?”

“A while.”

“Come in, I’ve got some lens cleaner.”

“But you don’t have to…” She practically yanks me inside. I shrug and close the door behind me as she rushes off to the bathroom. I can hear the coffeemaker perking. Some toast pops up and I can smell bacon. I squint through the blur and think I can make out some fruit and eggs on the countertop. Within minutes she’s back. Not only are they clean, she’d tightened the screws so they won’t slide off. “Thanks.” I smile.

“You’re welcome.” She smiles back and puts them back on. “Now you can see.”

“Uh-Huh.” Shan’s got a rather low-cut shirt on. Oh yeah, I can see plenty.

“Wanna stick around for breakfast?”

Oh shit, she’s not wearing a bra. I could really use some X-Ray vision right about now. “Thanks but, uh, I gotta go.”

She sighs and looks disappointed. “Okay. See you later?”

“Yeah, I'm off tonight.” I edge closer. Her eyes peer up at me and I stare into them. It would be so easy to just close the gap. So damn easy.

“Great! Wanna do CSI tonight? New episode.” Gil Grissom is her new hero. It must be all that bug talk. She also thinks Sidle is hot and that I look like her. Riiiight.

“But of course. I’ll bring booze.” Right, like you need to get her drunk.

“Oh really, what kind?” She playfully twirls a lock of her hair. I watch with fixed fascination. I gotta get outta here before I start something I can’t finish.

“You’ll love it. Banana schnapps.” It’s her favorite fruit. I love it when she bakes banana nut bread. Hint?

“Oooh. Does it taste sweet?”

“Very.” I’ll bet you do, too.

“Hmm.”

“Something to look forward to, eh?” I fumble with the knob behind me. “I’ll see you later.”

“Later.” She smiles. I back out the doorway, still gazing at her. I can’t wait until tonight. Damn, she’s so hot. Now I know how that dumb-ass farmboy feels. Who needs Kryptonite?

Time to go see the lush shrink.

Whoop-de-fucking-do.