It Takes Two

Frozen, I lay still on the bed for an indeterminate amount of time, my glazed eyes fixated on nothing in particular. I was so close this time, but it still wasn't enough.

Feelings of shame and disgust coursed through me, feeling humiliated in myself. In a taken man's bed, Mal? What the absolute fuck. I wasn't a homewrecker. Not officially anyway, I hadn't sent the photos. At worst I was stupid, I figured. Rolling out of bed- no easy task given how soft and enveloping the mattress was- I landed on my feet and searched around for my bra, finding it eventually near the closet by my shirt. I looked around the room, taking in the sight of all the crap Ken had around the place. Thankfully he didn't live with Willow, otherwise there would be cat hair all over the place.

Instead the room was particularly vacant, with little in the way of decoration. On one wall was another fake singing fish, this one wearing a Santa hat- how many singing fish did a man need? On his dresser was another photo of Willow, this time looking much more severe. 'That's the Willow I know,' I almost said out loud as I flipped the picture down. There was also a large print of what appeared to be Half Dome on one wall with a degree next to it. 'Geochemistry', I quietly read, nodding my head. Fancy.

I had no idea what geochemistry was, and more importantly, I had no idea what time it was. Judging from the light outside there's no way it could have been too early. Probably 10AM if I had to guess. I grabbed the shirt off the ground and pulled it over my head. Part of me wanted to walk topless to the bathroom before putting on my bra or shirt but that seemed too careless. Maybe another time. And also not at Ken's place.

Opening the door, I looked each way, spotting a pair of legs on the couch. He didn't appear to be moving, but the TV was on. Leaning out, I spotted him cross armed but asleep on the couch, still as shirtless as ever and clutching the blanket snugly in his arms. It was adorable almost, if shirtless men counted as adorable anyway. Ken wasn't the biggest guy, but there was some muscle on him, and more importantly, he looked defined- with twin lines forming a V that met down at his waistband, and some small, but noticeable abs on his stomach. I thought he looked adorable anyway, but mostly because he was in pretty decent shape and clean shaven. If he was obese and hairy probably less so, or at least just obese. I wouldn't mind a beard on him. He might even look good that way- I'd have to suggest it.

I walked over and found him lightly snoring. I wasn't exactly sure what the proper decorum was for waking someone up in their own home but I figured a poke to the face was sufficiently courteous.

"Hey. Hey. Hey." I said poking him a few times. He grumbled and yawned. I reached to poke his nose and watched him react negatively, grumbling more annoyed this time. "Heeeeey." I said, feeling a bit more brave and putting my finger in his open mouth. To my great surprise he closed his mouth around my finger, not so much biting as he was using his lips.

"Ew gross!" I shrieked jumping back while he laughed. I rubbed my finger on Mickey and froze petrified on realizing it was the same finger that had been rubbing my slit. My hand clenched tight and I walked towards the sink in the kitchen, in a stilted march. "You're gross." I said with a bit more disgust than I should have, softened with a "You got gross, man-germs all over me." As I washed my hands furiously with a steady stream of scalding water, Ken walked over and opened the fridge. I looked his way and spotted his shirtless body, giving it a look over and taking in the definition on his body. There was a quality to it I couldn't put my finger on- he looked strong but his entire attitude made himself look confident and effortless.

"Ever hear of a shirt?" I asked, hoping he'd cover up.

"Yeah, you stole mine." he said without missing a beat. "Ever hear of pants?"

The shirt covered me down to my thighs, making them wholly unnecessary, but he was right.

"What have you got to eat in this place anyway?" I asked, taking note of how bare the kitchen was. He looked in the freezer before closing it, the cold air making me glad I put my bra back on.

"You want me to dress AND make you breakfast?" he asked still in a grumbling, tired tone. "You're asking for the moon, woman."

"I am not! I'm a guest remember? Be a good host." Silence passed for a moment. "On a completely unrelated note, I would also like the moon."

Ken yawned again and began walking towards his bedroom, pausing at the door and looking in as if examining the damage I had done. I quickly shut off the water and followed him down the hall.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"About 8:30AM" he answered. "I was going to go out for breakfast today." he added, walking over towards the bed and pulling the sheets off before beginning to smooth out the bed. He pulled the sheets back over and started fluffing the pillows.

"Oh nice where we going?" I asked in a chipper tone. Maybe if I played it off, he wouldn't mind me tagging along. Food was food after all. Ken didn't see it this way, frowning at me for a few seconds, but ultimately relenting.

"There's this little place, near downtown-"

"In downtown?"

"I said near downtown."

"Any good?"

Ken walked over to his dresser and opened the top drawer, sifting through the mess of shirts I made last night and pulled out a salmon colored number. He paused and looked at the turned over photo before looking back at me and frowning again, returning it back upright. I personally thought it looked better before.

"I like it, a lot." he said pulling the shirt over his head. The shirt clung to his body tightly around his shoulders and arms, filling it out nicely. So it wasn't just my imagination, he was in good shape. "But Willow hates it. So I usually go by myself on Saturdays when she's at work or you know, whatever."

"You go by yourself?" I asked, feeling hurt for him. "Oh, Kenneth..." I tilted my head, my eyes giving as much pity as humanly possible. I imagined an old man sitting by himself and feebly eating eggs and drinking coffee, making small talk with any waitress that crossed his path.

"Shut up," he answered flatly. "And my name's not Kenneth, it's Kendrick. Kendrick Pohlar".

"Kendrick." I repeated. "But why by yourself, Kendrick Pohlar?"

"They have another location and Willow says she hates chain restaurants." he said shrugging and looking down at his feet. "Also they don't have gluten free options so she won't eat anything there regardless."

"She can't have gluten?" I asked skeptically. Again, Ken shrugged sheepishly.

"She said gluten free is healthier." he said digging his foot into the carpeting. Saying it out loud must have sounded silly to him. "Anyway get out I need to put on some pants."

"You don't have to." I said a bit more suggestively than I intended. His eyes bulged a bit at the suggestion. "You can Donald Duck it!" I added playfully, leaving the room.

Ken eventually got ready after an excruciating 30 seconds waiting for him to get his pants on, so I used that time to wash up. No makeup today, but I didn't mind, even if it did look out of place with my dress. We hopped into Ken's car and were off, taking a scenic drive towards the restaurant. It was a bit out of the way and the 10 minute drive Ken promised was closer to 25 as a result, but it was well worth it. We took a road that went through the hills and overlooked the ocean. It was absolutely breathtaking, and I found myself staring long and hard at the scene with my mouth open a bit.

"It's gorgeous out here."

"Yeah, I think this is the first time I've actually been out here with someone."

I looked over at Ken. How had he not dragged Willow out here? This was the view perfect for a romantic getaway, especially if the destination was the beach. Or at least for grabbing breakfast after a night of sex. My confused, if not peeved look got to him and he continued.

"I kinda discovered this road by accident and I don't know," he said nonchalantly. "It's never come up."

Finally, we arrived back in town and pulled into a parking space across from the restaurant. We walked down the street, not saying much. At the intersection, I decided to have a little more fun at his expense and reached for his hand, snickering as he pulled his away. Much to his chagrin, I held on tight as we continued to cross the street. Suddenly, I felt him push me away with an intense amount of force, nearly sending me on my ass but still maintaining a tight grip on my hand. I could feel him squeezing hard, and soon it became obvious why as a car clipped the corner of the street and nearly hit us.

"ASSHOLE!" he yelled before looking back at me. "You okay?"

My heart was beating a million beats a minute and my voice nearly croaked trying to speak so I nodded my head up and down. We continued down the street, his hand firmly holding mine. I kind of enjoyed it, walking together in silence once again as we reached the restaurant. It was a comfortable silence though, which was progress from the night before. His hand holding mine made me feel safe, and I didn't want to say anything about it so I kept my mouth shut, and indeed he didn't notice until we were at the door, looking at me, then our hands and then quickly pulling his away. He looked a bit flush, but I thought it was cute.

"Thank youuuu," I cooed as he held the door open for me, making him blush even more. I walked in and felt like I traveled back in time to the 70s, or at least what I imagined what life was like 20 years before I was even born. The interior was a soft salmon color, with waitresses dressed like they stepped out of a vintage sitcom. Old men congregated near the counter and picked at hearty looking breakfasts that could clog your arteries on sight. Several others sat at small tables around the restaurant.

"Hey hon!" one of the waitresses called, approaching Ken. "No more table for one! Did you finally convince your girlfriend to come with you?"

I glanced at Ken who instantly looked anxious, rubbing the back of his neck. Evidently he tried dragging Willow here apparently, wanting to do so badly enough he'd vent to a waitress about it. She probably wouldn't be getting a tip today at this rate. My heart sank and the analogy of an old man eating eggs popped back into my head, imagining Ken sitting facing the wall all by himself, attempting to eat some egg that would fall off his fork before reaching his mouth. I don't know what part of me did it, but I acted just on instinct at that point.

Reaching over, I grabbed his arm, pulling myself up against him and smiled.

"Why you telling everyone about me?" I asked, comically pouting up at him. He remained silent, looking at me as though I were insane. Luckily, the waitress only laughed and led us to a table, complete with small plastic vase and what appeared to be a fake flower. As we sat down, I took a look at the menu, then back up at Ken who looked down blankly at the table. I pressed my luck again and reached for the flower, confirming my suspicion about whether it was real or not.

"How romantic." I joked. "Ma'am, we're going to need some crayons and a coloring mat. Make sure they're the big ones, this one hasn't learned how to color inside the lines yet." I added to a passing waitress. Ken didn't share the sentiment and continued to frown. I suppose kindergarten wasn't kind to the fish man.

***

There was no reason for me to feel as angry as I did. Well, maybe there was. All I knew was that I felt upset by all of what Mal was doing. Not so much WHAT she was doing, I thought it was fun and cute, but more WHY she was doing it. What did she want from me? What was her goal?

"Okay, what do you want?" I bluntly asked, looking up at her. We had made our way to the breakfast spot and things were moving much too quick. I felt nauseous, powerless as well. I had read plenty of stories online of the erotic variety that involved women playing men this way, and my suspicions about Willow telling me Mal was a seductress were seemingly on the money. "What are you doing?" I added.

Mallory for her part looked taken aback, as if I had legitimately offender her. Even if I had, there was no way I could let her pretend to be my girlfriend. Staying over and using my comfy bed was one thing, but lying made me feel disgusting. I didn't feel right, and the guilt was piling up.

"Ordering breakfast." she answered in a weak voice. She sounded more confused than angry.

"Just...stop. Okay?" I told her. "Stop with the hand holding and saying you're my girlfriend. It's disrespectful."

Mal's face soured like milk, NOW looking like she was hurt.

"Well I'm sorry," she said with glassy eyes. "I was just being nice. I felt bad for you eating by yourself all the time." Her words stung with some venom, humiliating me with their accuracy. Still, I couldn't have her pretending to be my girlfriend.

"Were you being nice when you kissed me?"

I said it. It was finally out there. I glared at Mal who was once again taken aback, this time there was no curt retort lobbed back my way. I thought she might excuse herself, but she stood her ground instead, keeping her head down at the table.

"That was an accident." she said. "A mistake. I shouldn't have done that." Mal looked back up at me, with eyes that conveyed sincerity. "Ken honestly look, I'm really sorry. It was a stupid idea. I'm not going to lie and...and...and say I was drunk, or that I'm a victim. I was wrong and I'm sorry."

I sighed. I wanted to believe her. There was something about her that seemed genuine, even if her actions were dubious, they all seemed rooted in good intentions. There was an authenticity to her that I found charming, but I couldn't leave it at that- I kept thinking more and more about it and it bothered me for whatever reason.

"Look," she said. "I'm sorry about...last night. And I'm sorry about telling Flo over there that I was your girlfriend. But other than that I've got nothing to apologize for, I'm just being me and if it bothers you then well after I get my car fixed you won't have to deal with me again."

That hurt. I almost forgot she was only here because of her car. I didn't want to sound too desperate though.

"As long as we respect that, I don't want you to... I don't mind you being around." I said. I thought my stumble my catch her attention, but Mal only nodded, managing a weak smile. Unsure of what else to do, she turned and looked around the restaurant, examining the garish interior.

"Hey look," she said pointing to a fish mounted on the wall, just like the one in my apartment.

"Oh yeah!" I said suddenly feeling a large swelling of pride, enough for me to forget my anger even if just for a moment. "They give you one of those if you finish one of their big breakfasts in like, an hour." I leaned back in my chair, pointing to a wall on the other side of the room that featured three portraits, two of which were of very large, well-fed truckers, and one of myself. The words "BIG FISH" hung up on a sign above all three.

"And you've done it twice?" Mal asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh yeah, once the first time I came here, and the other during Fishmas." The absolute serious tone in my voice saying "Fishmas" without an ounce of levity made Mal go into full Goofy mode, hyucking it up so loudly nearby patrons glanced our way. I scrunched my face in mock indignation, but found myself laughing a bit as well. I was from Minnesota dammit, this was my culture.

We ate our fill, with Mal ordering only a small bowl of fruit but picking at my hash browns. We left, and ostensibly were on our way back to my place before Mal asked what else was around. I wasn't exactly sure since I hadn't had the wherewithal to explore, but Mal dragged me along, telling me we could stand to walk off all the food we had ingested. I relented and found myself walking down mostly empty streets with Mal in tow. We started getting to know each other a bit better, me telling her that I had moved out west from Minnesota some years back for college while she told me she had recently come back after going to school up in Oregon. Apparently she and Willow had known each other since junior high which seemed like a long time to be frenemies with someone. I asked about her platinum blonde hair to which she quickly shot down any doubts, claiming it was dyed a bit lighter at best but that she was a natural blonde.

We passed by a small boutique that caught my eye, its window front occupied by three mannequins wearing vintage clothing. One of which, the one in the middle, wore a pastel pink wrap dress. I stopped and looked at it, noting how old it looked; it must have been straight out of the 70s. Mal looked at me and over at the dress.

"See something you like?"

"You'd look good in that." I said rather bluntly. I didn't mean it to come out as a compliment or an order, but it came out regardless. Mal took a few steps up to the window and wordlessly studied the outfit. She scanned back and forth, as if reading a book before turning towards me. Again, she read my face as if deciding whether or not I was serious.

"I mean, yeah," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "What wouldn't?" She struck a pose, putting her hand on her hip and sticking her butt out a bit. She had a smirk on her face, but there was some legitimate confidence in her words.

"I'll be the judge of that," I said, walking right by her and opening the door. "Ladies first."

"You're serious?" she asked, calling my bluff.

"Like a heart attack, c'mon."

Mal was all smiles, walking into the store with a giggle. Immediately she began looking all around the shop and ogling the vintage clothing around. There were the typical clothes- old halterneck dresses, some old sweaters, skirts and the like. A pink suit, similar in design to what Jackie O. wore was adorned on one mannequin, complete with pillbox hat. The entire store was ready to burst with vintage clothing in a rainbow of bright colors.

"Can I help you?" came a voice. It was an elderly woman, herself dressed in a sensible but timeless dress. I looked over at Mal, in her dress and myself in a t-shirt and jeans. At least my clothes were clean.

"Yes, we'd like to see that dress you have on display, the wrap dress." I answered in a mild mannered tone. If I couldn't look elegant I could at least sound elegant. The shopkeeper looked over at Mal who engrossed herself with a rack of clothing.

"Of course," the shopkeeper answered, walking past me and towards the display. She pulled the dummy from display and carefully removed the dress off of it before sliding a hanger on it. Holding it with both hands, she handed it to Mal who by now had wandered back towards me, standing by my side. "Would there be anything else?"

"No I-"

"Oh if it wouldn't be a bother," Mal said, answering for me in a tone indicating that something would indeed be a bother. She asked for several more outfits, and kept the elderly shopkeeper busy. All told, she must have been holding about 6 outfits. As Mal examined a pair of shoes, I slipped the shopkeeper my card, giving her a wink.

"C'mon Ken you have to tell me how they look!" Mal said excitedly.

"Wait what why me?" I looked back at the shopkeeper who only offered a chortle as she busied herself.

"I don't have a phone remember? I need someone's opinion."

"The dressing rooms are just down that way." the shopkeeper offered, before returning back to whatever she was doing. Dammit she probably thought this was some cute date. I wanted to squash those notions but telling her I was buying some girl I barely knew a bunch of clothes sounded weak, and moreover, a bit sleazy. Not that it was, of course, it might be for someone else but not for me, I rationalized.