by R. Phoenix
I walked back to our table and picked up my Coke, trying to avoid looking back over at Finn. But I failed, even though I knew it would only hurt even more.
The guy he was talking to was huge, towering over Finn and smiling down at him. Within a few moments, Finn got him to laugh. The big guy seemed to be mesmerized, because he didn’t even avert his eyes for a moment. He replied to something Finn said, leaning in close. Finn went up on the tips of his toes, placing a hand on the guy’s chest.
Why? Just why? Was I really that unlikeable? Was there something wrong with me?
I took another sip of my cold Coke, trying to keep the tears at bay. I should just leave, but I’d given Finn a ride, and I couldn’t just abandon him here. And I didn’t really want to go home like this. Carter would understand and comfort me, but it would feel like I failed if I left now.
On the other hand, what else was going to happen? Finn would play with those guys, hook up with the hunk, then go home with him.
Finn shook his head, then laughed again.
I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I also didn’t want to. This was hard enough to watch, and there wasn’t any need to torture myself even more.
I stared at the condensation on the side of the bottle, trying to figure out what to do now.
“My turn, right?” Finn’s voice ripped me out of my thoughts.
I looked up at him, seeing how broadly he smiled. “Umm…”
“I think so, yes,” he decided. It wasn’t, but with those words, he was off, throwing the ball — expertly to the side again. He came back to me, still beaming. “I guess next time we need to find another source of entertainment. My ego can’t take much more.”
“What about you and that guy?” I asked slowly. I needed to know what had happened. Had he been rejected? Why else would he be here again, playing with me?
“He gave me his number. I’ll text him later tonight or tomorrow. Probably tomorrow. I don’t want to look too eager.” He sighed happily. “Have you seen those muscles? That’s one delicious man. Nothing against yours, of course. I’m sure he’s sexy as hell. But I doubt you share.”
I sat there with my mouth hanging open.
Finn gently placed a finger under my chin, closing it. “What, did I guess wrong and you like to share?” He gently teased me. “Sorry, honey, but I think that would be messing up our friendship.” He got the ball and held it up to me. “Your turn to embarrass yourself.”
I swallowed, seeing that Finn was still receiving glances from the man. He definitely offered flirtatious looks back, but he made no moves to go to him. What the hell?
“Don’t you want to… you know… hook up with him?” I finally managed to ask, even though I wanted to slap myself for my own masochism.
Finn laughed. “Sure. But I’m having fun with you, so not right now. He can wait until I’m free.” His words were completely matter of fact, like he hadn’t even thought about ditching me. But he’d been over there flirting. Maybe…
“But it would be okay to—”
“Nope. Not unless you’re trying to get rid of me?”
I shook my head. “Not at all. I just thought you’d rather get laid later, which won’t happen if you’re with me.”
“Sweets, my hand works perfectly well, and I have the guy’s number. If things work out, I’ll get laid this week or next one or whatever. In any case, a random guy is not worth leaving a friend alone, especially since I dragged him to go bowling. So stop worrying and throw the damn ball… unless you want to do something else?”
I was speechless, but I managed to throw my ball.
Finn played on, rambling again, and even though he glanced at the other lane a few times, he definitely focused on me more than the other guy. Strange.
I couldn’t wrap my mind around it at all. He hadn’t ditched me. That fact echoed through my mind over and over, but it didn’t get more believable.
Finn didn’t seem to notice my inner turmoil, far too busy making us throw again and again.
“Think we can stop now?” he finally asked. “This is getting more and more embarrassing, to be honest. I thought we’d get better with some practice, but apparently not.” He grinned at me.
I nodded, finishing my Coke. I wasn’t sure about my drinking choice. I usually stuck to juice, milk, and water. But if I got too hyper, Carter would have ways to help me burn off the extra energy. Besides, just because I was used to getting some warm milk in the evenings, I wasn’t going to order that here.
Finn chattered on, managing to rope me into answering questions about my relationship. I didn't want to give away much, but I told him the basic stuff, how long we’d been together and all that.
The age play wasn’t for anyone’s ears. Wearing a lot of makeup didn’t mean he’d understand that kind of kink. Maybe he got being different, but then, I wasn't going to risk it. It had taken me too long to find someone who seemed to accept me the way I was, just… without knowing all the details.
"How about we move to my place and pick up some pizza to take with us? I'd suggest we eat out, but the good places are so crowded at night. I don't want to sit there and feel like I can't breathe."
I nodded. At least he’d dropped the relationship inquisition, so I was happy. Hanging out with him some more sounded nice, if I was honest.
So, after messaging Carter that I was heading over to Finn's place with him, we left the bowling alley and made our way to my car. The night air was refreshingly cool after the somewhat sticky inside, so I took a few deep breaths while Finn ordered us something to eat.
He didn't live that far from the university and was a bit more silent during the drive. He still gave me directions, because I wouldn’t have found back to his place otherwise, but he didn’t ramble on and on and on like he’d done before.
We arrived there and I followed him to his apartment, curious to see how he lived.
It was a real apartment, and a nice one, which told me his parents probably paid for it. I couldn’t imagine him making the kind of money to afford a place like that.
He opened the door, but before he stepped inside, he said dryly, “Just ignore the chaos. I didn’t get to pick up.”
Before I could even reply, I got my first glimpse into the living room, and wow. I’d never seen this kind of mess.
Clothes, shoes, makeup, jackets… all of it was thrown together, making it seem like the apartment was forced to hold about three times the stuff that actually fit. It all balanced on top of each other, completely with books and art stuff and… I turned around to close the door, trying to figure out if I’d ever escape here again. Would Carter come rescue me if I got buried under a mountain of clothes?
Okay, that was slightly exaggerating, but still, he definitely had too many clothes. I saw a closet door on the other side of the sleeping/living room, standing open, and realized it wasn’t an issue of him not picking up… the closet was overflowing as well. I didn’t even have words. How many clothes could a single person have?
I stared at the disaster area around me, trying to figure out how big the apartment would have to be to actually fit all of that into it. But, unless he bought a huge house, I couldn't see how this would work out. He had enough clothes to wear something different every day of the year, without having to wash even once.
Finn didn't seem to have any problem with that, though, because he unceremoniously shoved a huge pile of clothes off a couch I hadn't even seen, and placed the pizza on top of something I figured was a table. At least I hoped it was, and we wouldn't eat on something like… more clothes?
"Come on and sit down, then we can eat." He sat down, grabbed a slice of pizza, and immediately started eating. "It's good. You shouldn't miss it."
I took my place next to him, but I couldn't help myself. I kept looking around, trying to figure out how anyone could live in this kind of mess.
But I didn't want to ask him, so I ate while Finn continued to talk to me. He was still in a very good mood, even though h
e’d definitely slowed down.
It was kind of weird to see him more relaxed. Even his over the top attitude had lessened, though it was still there, just not as prominent.
But I didn’t get a chance to ponder much, because Finn was done eating, and I made one mistake… I asked about his makeup.
“Ohh, I knew you were into that! You want us to do that?” His eyes lit up. “Yeah, that’d be great. Come on, eat up, I’ll get my stuff.”
I shoved the last piece of pizza in my mouth while he hurried around, picking up stuff.
“Come on. I love doing this. Did you know that I dreamed about becoming a makeup artist when I was younger? You have such a lovely face, it’s going to be awesome to work with it! But first…” He trailed off, looking at me. “I need to do your eyebrows.”
My what?
“Lie down here. Come on, that mess is not gonna work. I need to get them into shape, then I can really work.” He pulled my shoulder, and, since I didn’t have a good argument and also had to admit I was kind of curious, I followed him.
It sounded like it would be kind of fun… then I remembered Daddy’s words. He’d find it hot as hell. With a small smile I wouldn’t explain to Finn, I let my head rest on his thigh and closed my eyes.
Finn went to work, and I immediately flinched.
It hurt! Why would anyone intentionally do something like that? He was ripping my skin away, right? Was he some kind of serial killer who started with ripping away the skin on my face? Because it certainly felt like it.
“Ouch!” I rubbed over an especially painful spot, but Finn pulled my hand away.
“Sorry. It will get better when you’re used to it.”
I opened my eyes to glare at him. “Used to it? Do you think I’ll let you torture me more than once?”
He grinned, picking at another hair. “Yep. Because you’ll love how you’ll look.”
Somehow, I doubted that, because nothing would be worth this kind of pain, but I kept silent. I wouldn’t start discussing this with the guy with the tweezers.
But at least I had the opportunity to look at him unashamedly during that time, since I could only look straight up. As I watched him really closely, I discovered something I hadn't seen earlier, thanks to his makeup being done so perfectly.
Lots of small scars covered his skin. It might have been because of the lighting or the fact that it was getting late and his makeup had smeared a bit, but his skin definitely wasn't as perfect as it looked like.
Somehow, it made me feel better… and it explained why he wore that much makeup, maybe. Not because he wanted to, even though I didn't believe his scars were the only reason. But he also used it so no one saw his reminder of the acne he most likely had had.
I didn't comment on it, though. Instead, I let him do what he wanted – rip my hair out.
But finally, he had me sit up, and I wiped my eyes.
Then he got to work, applying stuff and more stuff and wiping away – blending, as he called it. Every time I figured he had to be done… he wasn’t.
How ugly was my face, exactly? Or how huge? Was it really necessary to apply 7 layers to it? Would I be able to move my face after that?
Then, as one of the last things, he put mascara on my eyelashes. I had to blink a few times, which earned me a hard look from him.
After the mascara was dried, he deemed me ready. That was also the first time I was allowed to look into my face.
“Perfect. I knew you had the face for it.” Finn’s eyes shone with happiness. This was definitely his passion. He held a mirror in front of me. “Now, what’s the verdict?”
My breath caught. I looked like myself… but not.
I've never seen myself like that. My eyes were much larger than I was used to, and I seemed to have more… I wasn't even sure how to say it. But I was, undoubtedly, beautiful.
I stared at myself, not believing this was me. Who'd have guessed this kind of guy was even inside of me?
"Do you like it?" Finn asked when I didn't say anything.
"Wow. Yeah. I don’t even know… I like it very much. Thank you."
"Not a problem at all. As I said, you have a beautiful face."
“Thank you?” I looked again into the mirror.
"Don’t say that like a question. I can do a lot, but I can't make someone ugly beautiful. So yes, you definitely are. Now that we've done that, what are your plans for the rest of the evening?"
I still stared at myself, trying to wrap my head around being the guy I was seeing. After a moment, I asked, "Would you mind if I call it an evening and head home? I kind of want to show Carter my makeup and, to be honest, I'm going to have a long day ahead of me, so I should probably get some sleep.”
"Absolutely not. I think I need to study a bit myself tomorrow."
I didn’t have a long day ahead, not really. I just wanted to head home and show Carter how I could look when I was wearing professionally done makeup.
Finn hugged me close when I left, then made me promise we'd meet again. Since the evening had gone way better than I ever anticipated, I definitely didn't have anything against that.
"I had a lot of fun, even though we probably won't ever win anything at bowling.” I laughed.
“Definitely not, but that's not why we met there. And now off you go. Show your man how you're looking, and then report back if it helped anything."
"What makes you think I need help with anything?"
Finn laughed, his eyes sparkling again. "Nothing, but I figured wearing that kind of makeup also wouldn't hurt, since I believe he's into that."
"He likes it, yes, but how did you guess?"
"Because you want to show him and you would've said something if he wouldn't like it, and not go home like this."
He’d hit the nail right on the head. Somehow, I had the feeling he knew me way better than I thought… and I wasn’t sure what to think about that.
Chapter Ten
Carter
Snowflake was fast asleep on the couch next to me, curled up into a large ball of white fur. Somehow, when I’d gotten him, I hadn’t anticipated having his hair on every surface in this house, let alone on all kinds of food.
But by now, even as I looked at the furry edge of my couch, I couldn't imagine being without him, not anymore.
Creamy, though — or better yet, the hellcat — was a different matter. He refused to even acknowledge me. If I looked below the couch, where he still hid, he hissed at me and tried to smack me with his claws out. Slowly, I got the feeling we wouldn't become friends in the near future. Or the distant future.
Sometimes I envied Micah and how easily he made new four-legged friends. And it seemed that when he put his mind to it, two-legged too. He'd been gone for quite some time, so his evening with Finn seemed to be going well enough. I was happy for him, knowing he’d found someone to spend time with. It was nice that it wasn’t someone he’d befriended through me, and who also wasn't a co-worker.
But I still missed him when he wasn't here. I'd gotten so used to having him around, it was strange when he wasn't here. Like a part of me was missing.
"Can you believe it? Me going all mushy over Micah." Snowflake didn't react, though. He slept on like he didn't have a care in the world. Well, he didn't, as long as he didn't try to have Creamy for dinner.
Creamsicle. Then again, as long as he hated me like this, I could probably call him Creamy.
After a moment, Snowflake raised his head, his long ears perking up. "Is he coming?" I asked him.
It took me several seconds longer, but by the time Snowflake jumped from the couch, I could hear Micah's car pulling into the garage. I started to get up to meet him at the door but decided to wait. It would look rather desperate if I jumped him right after he came in, right?
Before I could find an answer to that question, the door opened. I could hear my baby trying to say hello to Snowflake without having his tongue all over his face, from the sound of it. I waited impatiently, trying not to appe
ar too eager.
"Hey, Daddy!" Micah's voice was bright and happy.
"Hey, baby. I'm in here."
Micah appeared in the doorway. I looked at him and my breath caught. Hell. What had happened to my baby?
"Hey, Daddy." Micah came over to me.
I couldn't even get up. I was too caught up in his looks. He was still Micah, but not. His eyes were sparkling, darker than usual, and his skin was… different, too. I could apply some makeup, thanks to YouTube, but this was something else — a whole new level of makeup, so to speak.
"Finn?" That was all I could manage to say while I got up.
My baby was biting his bottom lip, looking up at me from below those long, long eyelashes. He nodded. “What do you think?” he asked shyly. “Is it too much?”
I cupped his cheek, carefully to not smear anything. "It's absolutely stunning, baby. I love it." I raised his head a bit so I could look at him even better. "I never knew someone could even do that with makeup."
Micah chuckled. "Believe me, I didn't either." He seemed to be relieved that I liked it.
My sweet baby. When would he really grasp I loved him too much to hate anything he wore or did? "It's unbelievable… and I kind of want to take you to bed like this, without removing it." I paused, kissing his lips gently. "But I think it's bad for your skin, right?"
My baby laughed. "I don't care about my skin, believe me." He pressed closer, wrapping his arms around my waist. "I think you really need to take me to bed, Daddy. I'm tired and could go for some loving." His voice dropped to a near whisper. "But no bottle today. Otherwise I'll be asleep before we know it."
I chuckled. "All right, then no bottle. You know, I can just take adult Micah and seduce him."
He looked up at me, his full, red bottom lip tempting me so much that I had to kiss him. When I finally released him, we were both breathing hard.
"Hmmm. Adult Micah might actually like that very much, I think."
I slapped his ass then turned him around. "Then off we go. Time for bed and some hot sex, I think."