Always Us

the agreement

Cannot for the life of me focus on anything I'm supposed to be getting done today, so I convinced myself that finishing this was productive. Loosely inspired by the trailer.

_____

Too tired to do anything to alter her appearance, Olivia trudged towards the front door of her apartment. Her sleep shorts were an old pair from high school and the faded Aaliyah t-shirt came down to her knees. She'd been wearing the same outfit the last time he came by almost a week ago.

Not that it mattered.

"Hey." Spencer's eyes scanned her face, taking in her heavy lids. He felt a pang of guilt for having woken her up. "My bad for hitting you up so late."

Her lips curled up sleepily. She shook her head. "It's okay."

Assured by her tone, he brushed past her, squeezing her hips gently in appreciation. He'd make it worth the lack of sleep.

"Rough day?" she asked, watching him drop his bag by the chair. Coming out of her sleep-induced fog, she could see the tension clearly in the way he moved. Something must've happened earlier.

He shrugged as he walked into her bathroom, leaving her without an answer.

She couldn't be mad. It was rule number one of their agreement. Neither of them owed the other any sort of explanation. If they wanted to share, fine. But the silent consensus seemed to be the less sharing the better. 

So instead of prying, she did her part and pulled a pillow and blanket from the hallway closet. While he finished up in the bathroom, she scanned through the options on Netflix. The final selection wouldn't matter. They wouldn't be watching it anyways.

Spencer reappeared in his basketball shorts, his shirt already discarded of. "How was your day?"

"You know, the same." They really didn't share any specifics at all—just good day, bad day. Enough for the other to gauge what the other needed. "I could use this."

"Yeah, okay cool," he nodded. "What are we watching?"

"We can go with a documentary. Or maybe a cooking show."

"You pick."

She hit play on a random travel series and flopped back onto the couch. His body took its place next to hers. Close. But not too close.

Again—not that it mattered.

They managed to keep up the act for a solid five minutes. Their bored eyes watched the opening sequence, gathering enough information to figure out where they'd be virtually traveling to that night. Antigua. Looked like a nice place to relax.

The chipper host's voice continued to lay out facts about the island, but neither of them would have been able to relay anything other than the obvious—that the island's name started with an A—because by the sixth minute, Olivia's knee had already fallen open onto Spencer's thigh and her head was resting back on the couch cushion.

A small groan of appreciation fell from her parted lips as his fingers moved inside her shorts. He circled again and again, teasing her before dipping into the warmth. Meanwhile, his other hand slowly squeezed up the inside of her thigh. Not here for the games, she repositioned it onto her clit.

It had been too long of a stretch since he last came over. He was in the height of football season which meant she'd go days at a time waiting for all his cards to fall in her favor. No meeting. No practice. No homework. Not too exhausted. Most of the time, that ended up being in the dead of night.

The waiting oftentimes kept her antsy. After a year of consistently having Spencer James at her fingertips, it was hard to go without. As an alternative, there was alway the option of ending their agreement and finding someone else. He'd understand. (Maybe.)