Dirty Laundry

[Harlequin]

Trash. Laundry. Trash, trash, laundry. Trash. Trash. Trash. Trash. Laundry. Laundry? Laundry. Whoa, definitely trash.

Watching more than half of her lovingly-maintained collection sail into the bedside trash can in sad, shredded wads, Morgaine began to wonder why she even bothered wearing underwear any more; there was not a single pair of panties on this planet that had met Tau and lived.

The stragglers went into a laundry bin, along with three rumpled sets of sheets.Three weeks of laundry days had come and gone since Tau had become her lover, and the clothing situation was becoming desperate. She had run out of jeans two days ago and three days was just too damn long to be living in the same yoga pants and bleach-stained tank top. Tau was currently sprawled across the bed, snoring gently and she took the blessed moments of quiet to walk-of-shame her raggedy ass down to the laundry room to get the suds going.

When she got there – whistling a jaunty tune– she stopped short. Who was standing there glaring at the machines as if trying to make them work with the sheer power of his brain other than mr. I-just-live-here-because-Morgaine's-wanted-to-fuck-my-dad himself? No one, was who. just her and her secret lover's son. Swell.

She had gotten more and more used to the secret part as time went on, enough that it didn't keep her up at night. Much, anyway. But there were still very valid reasons to keep their relationship on the DL – and one of them was standing there. Her pause only lasted for a moment. If she didn't act suspicious, he wouldn't be suspicious, simple as that. Plus it would've been hard for him to miss her, what with the whistling and all.

"Hey Arik!" she chirped, all bright and smiley as she entered the room, laundry basket balanced on one hip, "What's shakin'? They broken again?" She nodded toward the washing machine that seemed to have garnered more than a little of the cub's annoyance.

[Existentially Odd]

Arik looked over his shoulder as the whistler entered, his arms folded across his chest so that the muscles of his biceps and triceps bulged noticeably beneath the short sleeves of his grey T-shirt.  He was wearing a pair of dark blue exercise shorts, the white string tie dangling down the front untied because there was elastic in the waistband, and no shoes.  Like his father, he was a fan of little clothing and he was always running hot, even in cool weather.  He was baffled by what Morgaine said primarily, not able to decipher 'what's shakin' even though he understood she was asking if the machines were broken, so he simply stared at her for a few moments, his pale blue eyes fixed on her form as she walked farther into the room.

"No.  I don't think so.  I just don't know how to use them," he said warily.  He'd managed to bring all of his dirty clothing down here in a cloth bag and shook them into the machine before him, but when he closed the lid, nothing happened.  He had never been very good at reading instructions or figuring things out, but he'd been standing there staring down his problem in an effort to solve it when Morgaine came in.  "Do you?" he queried, his handsome face - prettier than his father's because his jaw wasn't as square and his straight, black eyebrows over his iridescent blue eyes were quite feminine - hopeful as he looked at her.  He'd left his large cloth bag on the lid of the machine he'd tried using, but he had no idea about money or detergents (though they were certainly tickling his sense of smell in this room, overpowering him the longer he stood there and blocking any other scents for the time being).

[Harlequin]

So that explained it. Morgaine clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and rolled her eyes. Jeez, with all the time the snake-lady had spent in the woods with her kids, you'd think she could spare a moment to explain how to do the damn laundry before loosing them on the world.

(It was things like this Morgaine told herself to make herself feel better.)

"Yeah, me and every other adult. Scooch." She walked and talked, setting her laundry basket on another machine and bumping Arik with one hip to get him to shuffle out of the way. She checked the machine to make sure there was clothing in it and shook her head. All lumped in together, of course. She took care of that, reaching in, gathering all of it up into her arms and shuffling it over to the little table just inside the doorway.

"Okay," she said, stepping back with hands on hips, "First, you're gonna wanna sort all this by color. Red with red, dark with dark, and light with light. If you put your reds in with your lights, you are gonna have a whole bunch of pink clothes – unless that's what you want. In which case, go nuts."

When he didn't reply immediately, she looked over at him to make sure he understood – and was struck again by the singular fixed stare he was giving her, so different from his father's ever-animated features. She could never tell if her liked her or not.

[Existentially Odd]

When she'd got close to him, he'd smelled the strangest thing on her; his father.  It had distracted him entirely from watching what she was doing with his clothes but while she was moving them out of the machine he'd dumped them in, he slyly went sniffing around near her basket.  He could've cursed the smell of soaps in the air - and because he was sniffing so hard, he sneezed twice because of them - but he was pretty sure he also detected his father's scent on the things in her basket too.  And sex.  There was definitely the musk of sex about those items because his body quickened at the hint of it.

He followed her over to the table she was at and stood behind her, watching silently as she lectured and not really listening.  He unfolded his arms and let them hang by his sides as he leaned towards her, smelling near the back of her head to be sure, before he pulled back and frowned lightly down at her.  "Why do you smell like my father?" he enquired curiously.  "And sex?"

[Harlequin]

Her eyes tracked him as he sniffed around her basket, a frown deepening on her face. What the hell was that about? She continued to watch as he moved to stand behind her, thinking maybe he just had the same boundaries issues as his daddy had (and still did; she just didn't mind any more.)

Smell? She didn't smell like anything!

Not to a Human maybe.

It took a split second for her to go from confused to flustered, and she spun quickly, hands against the edge of the table. A quick step to the left put distance between them, and her brows knit. Feigning indignance, she flipped her hair and sniffed. "Your dad and I are buds, dude! Of course I smell like him. We hang out. And I smell like sex because none-of-your-business, is why. Protip: the next lady you ask about that isn't gonna be so charming about it, either."

She turned her attention back to the clothes on the table with an air of finality, wanting very badly to put that conversation behind them. She was a skilled liar, but this was Tau's kid. The ol' guilt was creepin' on back. "Now focus, Ari; I don't have all day."

[Existentially Odd]

When she spun and grasped at the table behind her, his gaze was drawn downward, following the line of her body from the curve of her breasts to the thrust of her hips but when she stepped asied he managed to look her in the eye again.  The way she talked was very fast and full of colloquialisms he didn't understand but, unlike the rest of his family, he wasn't curious enough about what she was saying to ask for clarification.

He merely watched her with interest, like a cat will settle with its tail curled around its body and watch a swimming fish for hours on end, his gaze roving over her face as she spoke.  "You didn't have sex with my father?" he asked, sounding mildly surprised as he stepped into place beside her, ostensibly listening to the clothes sorting lesson but watching her talk.

[Harlequin]

And there was the fateful question in all its glory, all bald and naked and squirming. But not wreathed in anger or accusation as she had expected; he might as well have been asking her whether she'd seen the new Die Hard movie. It was the tone – coupled with the fascinated stare – that caught her off guard. She turned her head to look at him again and when she answered, it showed.

"Nnnnoo?" She sighed hard, frustrated with herself, and looked away. Try again. "No! No, no, no." Red shirt, white shirt grey shirt. Clearly the clothes had made her angry.

She snuck a sidelong look at him and paused in her work, took a deep, steadying breath. "I mean, no. I didn't. And you should really be doing this yourself –" But all the clothese were already sorted by now anyway, so – "Well okay, this one's a freebie. But next time I'm not gonna be here." She scooped up the darks and reds and dumped them all together into the still-open washing machine, expecting him to do the same with the lights.

[Existentially Odd]

Arik followed her lead belatedly, trying to figure out why her body was telling him something wasn't right, yet her mouth was saying everything was fine.  He'd been told often that it would happen as he grew up and he'd then seen deception for himself many times over but he still wasn't able to piece it all together properly.  Why would she lie, though?  It frustrated him that he couldn't sort through the smells around her accurately enough to draw a conclusion.

Following with his bundle of lighter clothes (both piles seemed quite small when separated because he only owned about four pairs of jeans and six shirts, but he didn't argue), Arik took a punt and opened the machine beside the one he'd been using before.  He dropped his clothes in, closed the lid, stared at the machine, opened the lid and looked accusingly at Morgaine.  "See?  It doesn't go!  Whet else do I have to do?"  He had no idea about this process but he did know the clothes were supposed to get wet and washed and that wasn't happening!

[Harlequin]

Glad that she had successfully navigated the guilt-ridden course of that conversation, Morgaine jumped on the distraction. "Hasn't anybody ever told you? Nothing's free, kid." She shut the lid, tugging it out of his grasp to do so – hard enough that it shut with a sharp metallic CLANG. "And laundry costs two bucks a load." Eyebrows raised, she took four quarters from a little cloth pouch tucked into her own laundry basket and plunked them into the little slot labeled "CHANGE" at the top of the machine. "Now watch," she instructed.

Once the green readout appeared just below, asking her to select wash type, she grabbed a bottle of detergent from her basket (higher-end stuff; scented of lavender and vanilla) and poured a dollop into a tray that she slid out from the front of the machine – reaching across Arik to do so, with a glance over her shoulder to make sure he was watching.

Then she set the machine to "Normal", explaining that that would work for "Pretty much whatever", and standing back as the washing machine swished into action.

[Existentially Odd]

Naturally, he watched her in silence, taking in everything she said up until the part where she leaned in front of him.  It was maddening, the way the newly-released detergent wanted to baffle his senses right when she was closer and he was certain he could smell more than just her hanging out with his father... the scent of lavender and vanilla made him unsure, though.

His gaze roved her body, travelling along her cocoa limbs and the graceful line of her neck and when she straightened, he acted swiftly, stepping into her space in a blink.  Loosely, he grasped her upper arms, leaned down, pressed his face in beneath her jaw and licked up the column of her throat in one smooth movement.  He straightened up, then, looking down at her and testing the information that was on his tongue quite obviously.  She tasted sexual; like pheremones and orgasms and he began to grow aroused.  If she wasn't too busy being offended, she might notice the way his pupils dilated, displaying his interest.  In her.

[Harlequin]

Well, she would've been explaining which buttons to press had Arik not been dragging his rough tongue over the smooth side of her skin, causing her toes to curl and her cheeks to flush in a pavlovian response. But that was not Tau's tongue – she chided her treacherous body as she shoved Arik back; arms flailing as she stepped quickly out of his grasp – but rather his kid's. Which was weird, weird weird. Sure he might look like a younger, more ripped version of his father; and sure their tongues might feel just the same – but those were bad thoughts, and this was no time to be thinking about that.

It was certainly no time to be thinking about how she hadn't laid hands any skivvies whilst sorting his laundry.

She snorted and ran a hand down her throat where he'd licked her – despite his tongue being rather dry. "Ugh, what is it with you guys and the licking?!" she exclaimed, curling her lip in feigned distaste at the palm of her hand.

Once she was done being grossed out, she looked up at him, "Seriously, it's gross. Don't–" she cut herself off, frowning more deeply as she recognized the stare he was giving her. Her frown deepened. "Dooon't look at me like that."

[Existentially Odd]

He tilted his head forwards and to the side slightly, so that he was looking up at her from bright blue eyes, through the surrounding black lashes, and he gave a knowing half smile, his full lips pursing smugly.  "You let my father lick you.  You like being licked.  You don't think it's gross.  I can taste him on you.  I can taste your sex," he told her conversationally, his gaze dropping to follow her neck down to her cleavage.

Arik could imagine the many things she'd let his father do to her and though he was surprised that his father was even interested at his age, it encouraged him to wonder, too.  To wonder about Morgaine and what fucking her would be like.  She obviously didn't care that she was human and his father was a shifter and the taste of his father on her neck told him she let his father do anything he wanted with her.  She was beautiful in her own right, alluring because she fucked shifters, irresistable because she was freshly tasted and accessible right now.

"I want to lick you," he declared, looking into her eyes with raw desire, his thoughts arousing his body to the point where he began to feel tingles and movement in his shorts, his breathing quickened and his nostrils flared.  He kept his hands to himself, though, waiting for her to signal her permission however she usually did.

[Harlequin]

Somehow in the midst of all her verbal flailing and covering, Morgaine had managed to forget that Arik had probably licked her not as some kind of strange greeting, but for the same reason Tau originally had – to gain information. Information that dispelled everything she'd told him before.

But he wasn't upset. For sure NOT upset.

She pursed her glossed lips as her spoke, eyes narrowing as he went on. She kept her eyes on his, neck craning as if to hear him better. As his gaze wandered to the scarred swell of her breasts, she huffed and crossing her arms over her chest. It didn't do much to block his view but it communicated her unhappiness just as well.

She would have preferred upset.

Bright side: she knew how to fend off advances way better than she knew how to deal with the righteous and/or vengeful child of a wronged mother.

Pausing perhaps a beat too long, she tore her eyes from his. The frankness with which he expressed his desire was like his father's on steroids, and the way he practically demanded her attention with his eyes –

"Yeah, no. Not gonna happen." Her tone was curt as she turned away, running contrary to his expectations by shutting him out with her body language. She grabbed her laundry basket with one hand, "You only get the one freebie lick," she expanded, lifting the lid of another washing machine and dumping all of her own laundry in at once in a swish of black cotton and richly-colored lace.

A sigh huffed past her lips as she shut the washing machine lid: Now that he had the information, what would he do with it? There was a chance he might never tell his mom, for whatever reason – he didn't seem all that concerned about it. But what if he did? She'd already lied about it, which could give him reason to think it important enough to report. And then there was –

She slammed the lid of the washing machine shut. No, better to...feel it out, first, before she asked him not to say anything. He had no reason to do as she asked, yet; no reason to trust her.

[Existentially Odd]

He watched her actions closely and listened to her words, running through it all with very simple logic; she liked shifters because he could taste his father on her, so she ought to like him.  Well, unless it was because he was inexperienced.  He wasn't sure how he could counteract that, since he had no idea about seducing human women and Morgaine was the only one he knew that wouldn't freak out at his approach (apart from his sister, but his father had made it clear that that was not to happen).

Realising how clueless he was about his next step, Arik decided that he needed to ask.  "Is it because I've never mated before that you aren't interested in me?" he queried earnestly, believing it to be the most plausible reason.  He hadn't yet made the connection to his mother but any mention of feelings would likely get him there, if she wasn't mentioned outright.  His father was not really in his thoughts either, demonstrating how obtuse he was.

[Harlequin]

With a body like that? Her shock was evident. "Wait, you've never–" Morgaine groaned dramatically, looking away as she smoothed a hand over her face. Of course he still had his V-card. It was silly to assume otherwise; he was like 3 years old, goddammit. "No," she said slowly, rasing her dark eyes to his, "I'm just not."

A shrug as she grabbed up her detergent again, gratefully closer to hand now, "Sometimes people – human people – just aren't attracted to other people." She held up a hand, placating,  "Don't get me wrong – you're very attractive. Like way, way very attractive." She realized she was staring again – eyes wandering over the curve of a sculpted bicep, the strong line of his jaw – and jerked her eyes back up to his face. "It has nothing to do with you, really. It's just kinda how it is."

He wasn't asking the hard questions, yet. Maybe they hadn't occurred to him. Was it too much to hope that he'd let it go and forget all about it? Lost in these thoughts, she went through the laundry motions automatically. Another dollop of detergent into the little tray at the front of her machine, quarters hastily inserted into slot, and "normal wash" selected and "Go" button pressed and voila! – her machine started with a rumble and a hushed sound of running water.

"Shit!" she exclaimed, "Dammit, I'm supposed to be teaching you, aren't I. I don't suppose you caught any of that?" She gave him a placating half-smile, meant to distract.

[Existentially Odd]

He'd seen her do it a couple of times now and he certainly got the gist of what he'd been missing when he'd tried it by himself - detergent and money.  He wasn't stupid, he'd just had no idea about how it all worked, but he had it now.  He'd also spent the whole time looking her over behind her back, wondering why she was refusing him when he knew very well she'd responded positively to his lick.  There had to be another reason he was missing, like the way he hadn't figured out all the clues of the washing machine because he hadn't examined all its parts properly.  He had to look at the bigger picture, beyond her and him and this room...

"But... you are attracted to me," he countered, frowning as he gave this some deeper thought.  Suddenly, his eyes widened and his face looked more expressive than it ever had.  "Oh!  Is it because you mated with my father and he's still here?" he asked, genuine excitement thrumming in his deep voice as he felt he'd guessed correctly.  "I'll fight him for you!"  It wouldn't be the first time two males had clashed over the same female, family ties or not.

[Harlequin]

Morgaine grimaced briefly, her inner feminist frothing at the mouth.

Not to say that the thought of two attractive men getting all rough-n-tumble for her affections wasn't delightful to think about. Not that she would want to watch, say, from a giant, ornate throne, eating bonbons from a golden platter.  None of that sounded fun at all.

"No," she said firmly, looking him in the eye, taken momentarily off guard by the excitement in his expression. "No fighting him. That might work on the catgirls, but it won't work on me. I'm not a carnival prize. I'm not territory."

Plus, she knew Arik would almost certainly beat his father in hand-to-hand. Tau wasn't getting any younger. And if he lost, what then?

"We just make each other happy, is all." she shrugged, leaned one hip against the washer, "I don't want to mess with that."

[Existentially Odd]

Arik looked genuinely disappointed at her outright rejection of his advance and was given to wonder why his father was the one that was making her happy.  "How does he make you happy?" he demanded austerely, genuinely wanting to know because the only other woman he ever saw his father interact with was never made happy by him, nor him by her.  "He and my mother aren't happy, how do you know you are?" he asked, squinting suspiciously at Morgaine.

[Harlequin]

Another moment passed with Morgaine blinking wordlessly at the shifter as her brain caught up with what he'd said. "Um," she said intelligently, "Well, it's complicated, I guess?"

No, it wasn't, she realized with a wry twist of her mouth. Funny that he asked better questions about Human emotion than most Humans she met. His grasp of the situation between his parents also fit her perception than most would.

 "I just like being around him, y'know? I like it when he's there. He's funny, and cute. Plus the sex is GREAT," Her eyes went unfocused and a dreamy smile wandered onto her face until her brain reminded her that – once again – this was Tau's kid she was talking to. She hurried on, "And I dunno, we just suit each other's needs well, I guess. When you're happy you just kind of know it, right?" She shrugged again, helplessly.

[Existentially Odd]

Arik was given to staring yet again, trying to think about emotions and the concept of happiness and unable to identify whether he'd felt it or not.  He was... satisfed with his life, he supposed; he certainly liked it a lot better now he lived on his own and had the freedom that his father never seemed to have wanted him to have.  But was that happy?  He wanted too much for him to believe it was.  He wanted women in his bed, friends to spend time with, excitement in his life.  He had none of it, so he was dissatisfied too.  Therefore he musn't be happy.

"Does he come here to visit you a lot?" he enquired with a mild amount of curiosity evident in his tone.

[Harlequin]

She felt like a bug under that stare; like he was rooting out the reasons behind her earlier attempts at deception – which, come to think of it, why hadn't he asked about that yet? Clearly there was a reason; he couldn't have just forgotten.

Suddenly needing something to do with her hands, Morgaine fussed with her laundry accoutrements. Detergent went back into the basket along with her jangly bag of quarters, and then –oh, he was talking again.

Somewhat distracted, she answered, "I dunno, on a good week–" She stopped herself mid-sentence, focus returning. It was her turn to fix Arik with a suspicious sidelong look "Whyyy do you ask?"

[Existentially Odd]

Arik moved closer to Morgaine, wanting to touch her, attempting to sneak a hand under the hem of her shirt to press his hand flat against her stomach or, if it was more convenient, to move behind her and slide fingers up her spine while his face pressed close to her ear.  She'd likely move away from him but he could move even more agilely than she and he was happy to keep up the game of pouncing on her from place to place if that was the way things went.

He had words to say though, so whenever they came to a stop, he'd share them with her.  "Because he doesn't have any reason to stay at home now, our mama's still away with my brother and other sister and Nebi and I are gone so... he could come to you all the time, even if you say he doesn't come to you at all.  That's not the truth.  He comes to you, he mates with you and he makes you happy.  I want to know how often it is because I want to try to make you happy, when he's not here," he told her bluntly and attempted to kiss her.

[Harlequin]

Moving too quickly for her to follow at first, Morgaine immediately stepped back as she felt his hand at her midsection, the skin of his palm hot against hers. She kept stepping back – protesting the whole way like a young cat might when grabbed by the scruff – until her back hit the wall.

She listened to him, eyes narrow and mouth set in a frown despite the quickened beating of her heart (Ugh, it had to be against a wall, didn't it? All close and perfect for him to pick her up, for her to wrap her legs around his waist...). Her desire soured quickly, though, as he moved in for a kiss. Apparently he needed to learn the hard way.

Her palm met his cheek with a sharp slap, accompanied by an equally sharp "No!"

The blow had been meant to sting and startle, not damage; just give her enough time to remove his hands from her person, if he allowed it. "I said no once," she told him firmly as she did, irritation evident, "I should not have to say it again."

[Existentially Odd]

He took a step back, a confused frown on his face and an expression beneath it that was more sad than angry.  "But... but you like shifters!" he argued opaquely, lifting a hand to prod at his cheek briefly with his fingertips.  She'd hurt his dignity, not his body, but he touched the heated flesh sub-consciously as he looked at Morgaine with a wounded pout.  "Why don't you like me?"

[Harlequin]

"I like your dad," she corrected, crossing her arms again and tossing her hair, "And not because he's a shifter. I don't just want to indiscriminantly fuck all the shifters I meet – hell, I don't even know how to pick one out of a crowd." She huffed.

This was a complicated issue. She was attracted to him, certainly – who wouldn't be? – but it was purely physical. Her body said 'yes' while her Human brain said 'JESUS CHRIST NO' – and he could only read one of the two.

[Existentially Odd]

The look he gave her was heated and wounded, his gaze roving down her body to her breasts as he dropped his hand from his face.  He was thinking, trying to figure out what to do about this awkward situation... and he couldn't help but appreciate her tits while he did it.  He wanted to touch them so badly he could barely think straight, they were right there... but he knew she wouldn't want him to.  Well, so she said, and he knew he couldn't trust that.

"I have no idea what I'm doing.  I want to find a woman as beautiful as you to be with but... I have no idea how.  My father told me nothing."  He looked up at her eyes at last, an idea causing his expression to shift and become more earnest; he stepped in against her again, inadvertently pressing her between his very warm body and the wall.  "When he's gone, will you help me?"  She'd been willing to teach him how to use the clothes cleaning machine, surely she'd be able to tell him what to do to get close to a woman as alluring as she wa?

[Harlequin]

Wow, this wall was getting awful familiar. Why didn't she take that step away like she'd meant to? Her hands immediately came up as a barrier between them, resting stiffly on the shifter's sculpted chest. Her frown returned, thoughtful this time as she considered his request.

It was a very short consideration. "Abso-fucking-lutely!" she enthused, flashing her teeth in a brief grin.

A moment later, it was all business again, "Lesson one: step back. Give a lady some space. This–" She made a circling gesture with her hands, as expansive as their proximity would allow, to indicate their current position "–may seem great to you, but to a woman you just met it's way too threatening."

"Lesson two: my face is up here." She pointed to illustrate, "Yeah, my tits are great, and I'm sure you'd love to touch them, but it is really, really rude to stare. To get to the tits, you have to ignore the tits."

[Existentially Odd]

Arik stepped back immediately when given that very necessary pointer, a look of surprise and concentration on his face; he hadn't expected his lessons to start so soon because he was of the opinion his father was upstairs and that Morgaine would want to return to him.  He wasn't going to stop her talking now that she'd started and was discussing such intriguing things, though.

He frowned at being told he'd have to ignore the twin globes drawing his attention at her chest, staring at them as he spoke even though he mostly understood what she was saying.  "But I like looking at them and I really do want to touch them.  And lick them.  And rub myself against them," he sighed wantonly, frowning as he lifted his gaze.  "They're very hard to ignore when they're so out the front like that and so many women barely even cover them up," he complained, seeming every bit the whining three year old with this protest, despite his young adult appearance.  "But I'll try," he mumbled reluctantly, making a very obvious effort to stare deep into Morgaine's eyes (and possibly hypnotise her, if the wind blew right, considering the stretch he was getting around his eyeballs).

[Harlequin]

This time, she took advantage of the step he took and reclaimed her space, skirting deftly around him so her back was toward the laundry table. "Touching strangers without their permission is a big no-no. Doing that will eventually get you into trouble in the long run. Touching a strange woman's – shit, even a not-strange woman's – tits without her permission will get you into A LOT of trouble in the very very short run. It's incredibly invasive." She paused, mouth twisted at his wheedling tone,

"I know you want to, but I'm telling you you can't. And that thing you're doing right now, with the bitching about me telling you no? That's called 'whining' and it is not cute. When a lady says no, she means no. Accept it and move on." She gave hm a pointed look.

Just then, the first washing machine they'd activated gave a raucous buzzing sound, followed quickly by the other two. "Washing's done!" the singer chirped brightly.