Rabbit Pajamas and Real Life

##Reese

Suo and I went out a few more times in the following weeks. While work stayed stressy for social reasons, I managed to figure out all of the programs. My paychecks were barely enough for me to make ends meet, between the train fares, bills, food and smokes. But I managed to make it work. Suo would text me on Friday to ask about Saturday like religion. Daddy got it bad. When I needed to do laundry or just needed to stay home and relax, I would just tell him. He would take it in stride. When we went out, he would pick me up in the evening in his nice car, looking like a whole fucking meal in his tight clothes. We would go out for ramen or burgers because that's all this broke bitch could afford and I was a lot of things. A gold digger was not one of them. I didn't want him for his money. With a sugar daddy came a tight leash and gurl's not down for that again. We would sit and talk about a lot of nothing, really. Music and TV. I liked listening to him talk about himself, about his tattoos and interests. He was interesting, the way he regarded himself like a low-key arrogant asshole. He readily admitted it. He just didn't take shit from people. He would get nervous too, he wasn't unflappable. He just didn't put up with bullshit. Bitch could learn a thing or two from him.

I could sense the commitment he wanted before we even got within a mile of the topic. I could tell in the raking look he would give me, like a starved man. But also like I was something worth keeping. Heh. Cool story bruh. The next time we had sex, it was still fucking great. Like the first two times were just a trial run and now we were playing for keeps. He was gentle, kissing me softly, holding me tight. Until a switch flipped because I mouthed off to him teasingly. Then he made a mess of me. So much I almost cried, almost called him daddy. I could tell he wanted to hold me afterwards in my mess of spit and cum. I didn't let him. My heart thumped away as he caressed my hair. Frankly I was terrified. How many times did I let this shit happen? It was like I was waiting for the punchline. I wanted to let this happen, wanted to hear him ask for me. But I also didn't. Because I knew where it would go. Knew it would crash and burn, my heart broken all over again. Because at the end of the day, we were both just assholes.

The punchline came on another Saturday with him on his couch with something dumb on TV. It had been a couple months since the sex in the expensive car. He sipped a beer with his hand on my thigh. The grip was relaxed, like he just wanted my presence, a small piece of human contact. I was burnt out from work again so I wasn't really watching the tv. I was mostly off in space, high on nicotine and a couple beers. High on him, his warmth and nearness. I didn't want sex tonight. I told him so. He gave me a mouthy kiss and assented. It surprised me. I expected him to push, to tease and coerce me into it. This bitch wondered why. Was he just good with boundaries or had I bored him already? I tried not to tie myself in knots about it too much. Tried to just accept it as it was.

Then his phone dinged. It was late, like 11 at night late. He read the text and tucked the phone away hurriedly. Too hurriedly. No bitch. Cmon. Relax. It's nothing. It doesn't have to be like that. His phone dinged again. I kept my eyes on the tv, watching him in my peripherals. He looked at me before checking it, quickly scanning the text and just as quickly put it back in his pocket. Like he didn't want me to see. Like he was hiding something. My heart clenched. My blood boiled. No bitch. Don't overreact. Queen, keep calm. Please. Please be nothing. Please let me be wrong.

I casually asked, "Who's that?"

He flippantly said, "Just a friend."

It was like a bad memory. No, it was a bad memory. A friend, huh? The kind you fuck on Sundays when I shoot you down Saturday? I huffed. I needed a cigarette. Why was I so mad? We weren't a couple. Maybe that's what made me so mad. There was no need to hide it. No need to be squirrelly.

He sensed my tension, my face stiff with my brimming thoughts "Reese, you okay?"

The cloud of anger over my thoughts stole my reason. Turned my logic into rage, my calm into sassiness. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying so hard to cling to my sanity. Trying not to overreact to my perception of his dishonesty. But this bitch had been burnt too many times by hot boys who got bored easily. By arrogant assholes just like Suo. And just like that, I snapped, "Didn't take you long, did it?"

His eyebrow went up. His expression was muddled with a wtf.

And queen here just kept on spitting, "You don't have to hide it. We're not even in a relationship."

His own voice gained an edge. "Hide what?"

I gave him a persecutory look, "The side bitch you're texting."

There was stark disbelief in his eyes. "That's a hell of an assumption, Reese."

I grew tighter, tenser, "Why else would you hide it?"

I gave him some credit. He didn't deny it. I saw his gears turn as he came up with some dumb excuse. Jeezus. What the hell am I doing? I stood. My voice was tight, "I just fucking can't with this shit."

His tone was deep, flat, "I'm not fucking anyone else Reese."

I turned on him. "Then show me the texts. If it's not a fuck buddy, you can show me."

His eyes were flat, deep and complicated. Like he was deciding if it was worth it or not. Like if I was worth it or not. I shook my head, my lips in a tight line, "Yeah. Okay. That's what I thought."

He huffed, "Fuck Reese. There could be a lot of other reasons I would want to keep a text to myself."

I tromped over to grab my coat, "Uh huh."

He raised his voice as he stood, "Would you just fucking listen for a second?:

I turned on him, eyes burning, heart racing, "I really wanted this to be different yknow."

His face was stone, his eyes sharp, "You are overreacting. Because you put me in a box. I'm not a fucking cheater Reese."

I paused. I searched his face. My mind looked for any explanation that wasn't another fuck boy. God. That's what I am. I couldn't do this. Not for another goddamn minute. My voice was thick with anger, with bitterness, "Show me the texts. Or I'm leaving."

His voice lost some of it's edge. "I don't have a single reason to sleep with anyone else. A single reason to lie about it. I don't want anyone else. I swear that the reason I can't show you is something else. It's not another guy."

I barked, "I can't stand being lied to. I sure the fuck won't put up with it from someone I'm not even dating."

I heard him yell dammit as I strolled out the door.

----

##Suo

I couldn't get him out of my head. And fuck if I didn't try. I worked long hours. I did more reps at the gym. I ran 3 miles instead of 2. I updated my Instagram. I drank. And drank. And smoked. Two weeks of this and I sat at the upscale gay bar downtown on Saturday. I didn't bother to wear a shirt under my leather jacket. The bouncer knew me and who I worked for. He wouldn't dare fuck with me. I had six shots in my stomach and a pretty boy in my lap within the hour. I wasn't listening to him as he prattled on. I was just watching his ass, the crowd and trying not to think about Reese.

This yappy pretty thing had a fucking comment for everything.

His whiny, nasally voice exclaims, "Do you smoke? That's nasty and bad for you yknow."

Reese smoked more than I did. And licked the smoke out of my mouth, off my lips. Fuck, it was hot.

The yappy boy kept going. "Did all those tattoos hurt?"

Reese hated needles. I laughed at him for it. And he made some quip about me being a masochist. And then he hung on my words as I told him about all my tats. Watching me with those pretty green eyes as I explained how long they took, where I got them. Genuinely interested in the artwork, the meaning. The way his eyes and hands traced the lines on my body.

Another comment, "Is that a gold Rolex watch? Those are really nice."

Reese was never impressed, never interested in my money. He would say, Am I supposed to be impressed? Is that gold? That's like asking for it to get tarnished. I would shake my head at him. He commented on having the same watch since high school. He would give me this look like the queen he was every time I insisted on paying. He would wag his finger at me and say, The sex is way too good for you to pay for everything honey. He was so fucking sassy and I loved it.

I just needed to get laid. That would take my mind off him. Some good casual sex would do the trick. I dragged the yappy thing to the bathroom and pressed him against the wall. I stuck my tongue in his mouth. He whimpered like a puppy. I pushed him into a stall and grinded my still very soft dick against his ass. I grabbed his hips and rubbed against him. Even his moans were nasal. I gripped his hair and bit his earlobe.

A hard Ah escaped him, followed by a, "Not so rough, jeez."

Reese loved it when I got rough. He would wind me up with soft touches and his ridiculously skilled mouth. I loved playing the game with him, the power dynamic before I got to be inside him. He would make me work for it, teasing with the look in his eyes and those catty words. He pushed me, forcing me to pace my desires, discipline my actions. He would set those firm boundaries, demand that I respect them or draw his ire. He really was a power bottom. I was powerless against the force of nature he was.

I couldn't do this. I let the pretty boy go. "Get out."

He looked at me in disbelief, like how dare I not want him.

His words were cutting, "You're an asshole."

God I was. If only he knew. Reese was right. He stomped out of the bathroom, fuming. I came undone, slumping against the stall. Why the fuck did Parker fucking text me when Reese was over? Of course Reese thought I was texting another guy to fuck. And it's not like I could fucking show him. Why was I so fucking hung up on him?

Because he was fucking perfect. He was so real, so genuine and independent. He had been hurt. A lot. It made him distant, non-committal. Not willing to put up with the usual bullshit. Which is why he reacted the way he did. And I fucking wanted him so bad, it hurt. I wanted to do more than fuck him. I wanted to be with him. And it fucking terrified me. I didn't do relationships. I couldn't. But with Reese, I wanted to. He was the real deal. A fucking keeper. Not a vapid, shallow thing to take to bed. Not a gold-digger or manipulative shit. Just a guy trying to get his shit together.

How the hell was I going to convince him I wasn't lying, wasn't cheating?

The only way I could. The truth.

----

##Reese

As if my life wasn't a shitshow already, I was a miserable pathetic mess after the fight with Suo. I ran it through my head a million times, winding myself into knots over and over. Did I overreact? What the hell was I thinking? It was probably an embarrassing text to his mom or something like that. Why didn't he just show me? I texted Minh, sounding like the mess I was. I couldn't even bring myself to text my girlfriends. I started a text to Suo three times, only to delete it. What the fuck could I even say? Not without enabling dishonesty, enable him to hide shit from me.

Bitch can't lie. I cried. Mostly at the stupidity of it all. How tired, wrung out, stressed and pathetic I felt. I dragged through work, plastering some fake pleasantry on my face to get through it. I hit my low on a Saturday two weeks after the fight. I was huddled on the couch, eating ice cream. I had been living on coffee, cigarettes and lunchmeat. I couldn't even turn on the tv. I looked like shit, I knew it. I didn't care. I didn't shave. I put on my biggest shirt and a pair of rabbit pajama pants. I turned off my phone, not wanting to deal with girlfriend melodrama or the pressure to text Suo. I tried not to smoke again. I had already killed a pack today. My apartment was a wreck. I should probably actually try to clean it. Bitch just couldn't. I laid on the couch, staring at the ceiling.

There was a knock on the door. Wtf? I stared at the clock, trying to register what time it was. It was 10:42 at night. I didn't order pizza. Was it one of my drunk neighbors? Fuck I did not want to deal with this tonight. Gurl was too tired for this shit. The knock happened again. I grew a little paranoid. I wish I had a taser. It's one of my drunk neighbors. No one else would knock on my door this late. I would just walk them to their apartment like I normally do. Jeez they must have started at 5pm. I trudged over to the door. I rolled my eyes and opened it.

My eyes almost fell out of my head. I couldn't stop the audible gasp from coming out of my mouth. Suo stood there, looking nervous. And not wearing a shirt under his leather coat. Like holy shit. Gurl could see every one of those hard muscles. Normally that would earn him a hard quip. Tonight I could do nothing but gawk. He nervously ran his hand through his hair. Then he looked at my pants. His arched eyebrow raised. A funny smile crossed his lips, "Are those bunnies on your pants?"

I turned crimson. Jeezuz. He looks like a fucking model and I'm here with peach fuzz and bunny pajamas. Could my life be any more of a hot mess? I stuttered out, "Y-yeah. Obviously." -- I put my hand on my hip, trying to placate my embarrassment.- "It's like 11pm on a Saturday. What did you expect?"

Suo still smiled, "Maybe like cats or some shit."

I hid my smirk. Then I remembered myself, why he was here. I kept the edge off my voice, "What are you doing here Suo?"

His eyes found mine and the playfulness left them. He took a deep breath, "I came here to prove I wasn't cheating or lying."

My chest hurt. Fuck, queen. I gave him a disseminating look. He continued, "I'll show you the texts. I just gotta give you some context first. Can I come in?"

The logical part of my brain screamed in protest. He was going to line this up to make me believe a story. But I spent the last two weeks a miserable wreck. I needed to at least give him a chance to explain. That's what a reasonable queen would do. So I held open the door and stepped aside.

Inside we stood in the kitchen right next to the door. He shuffled on his feet and began to explain, "The guy I was texting name's Parker. He's an older guy who's straight, married with two kids. I've known him awhile."

I put my hands on my hips, "And I couldn't see the texts why."

"Because he's a drug dealer."

My jaw dropped.

Suo clarified, "I know what you are thinking. I don't do the shit." -- He waved his hand and his expression was disgust -- "He was having problems with some people who didn't want to pay him. So he messaged me. And I went to make sure they didn't give him any more problems."

My eyebrows were high on my forehead, "What does that even mean?"

He sighed, still nervous, "I'm an enforcer. Hired muscle. It's what I'm paid to do."

I stood there, trying to process what he just told me. Like wut?

He continued, "I didn't show you the texts because they wouldn't make any sense to you. It's illegal as fuck so we basically text in code. I usually delete them right away too."

I blinked. He pulled out his phone and tapped the screen a few times. He then passed it to me. On the screen it said Parker as the recipient. The messages were words strung together I didn't understand. The one maybe looked like an address. A few names. The name of a bar. I went to the messages screen and many of the texts he received from other people looked the same way. The only normal looking messages were from me. I handed the phone back.

I bit my lip, reeling really, "What did you mean that's what you are paid to do? Like in the mob."

He chuckled, his eyes rolling, "Not exactly but basically."

My eyebrow raised again, sass threading into my voice, "You realize how crazy this sounds, right?"

He blinked. Then his eyes found the ground as he ran his hand through his hair again, "Yeah. Now that you mention it. I guess to someone on the outside, it would sound crazy."

I tried to process what he was saying with my words. "So you are paid muscle for a mob-like thingy. Which leads to you working with drug dealers. And is illegal. It sounds like a fucking movie. I mean this is a hell of an elaborate excuse to come up with..."

Suo's eyes narrowed. "You still don't believe me?"

I pressed my lips into a line.

Suo huffed, "I'm an enforcer for the Yakuza. I have been most of my life." -- He pulled open his jacket. -- "I even carry."

I panicked, shrill, "Is that a gun!?"

He pulled it out, seeing the shock on my face, and held it out for me butt first. "Yeah. I almost always carry it on me. It's real. You can hold it if you want. Safety on, of course."

My face was wide with disbelief, with shock. Wtf? Is this for fucking real? I stuttered, "I-I've never seen it on you before."

"It was in my glove compartment or in my coffee table. I carried my back up unless we were gonna fuck. Then I stowed that one too."

I stared at him. I stared at the gun in his hands. Oh it looked real. Not that I would know. Ok I believed him. Why the hell else would you carry a gun? Especially to make up with a fuck boy, unless you had a point to prove. Holy shit. He was in a gang. He did illegal shit. He re-holstered the gun. That would explain the vague job explanation. The ripped body. The ridiculous money. His appearance. His attitude. My god, queen, what the hell have you got yourself into?

My lip curled, "Are you stupid?"

He gave me a threatening look.

I clarified, "Why the hell would you admit all that illegal shit to me? Just to prove you aren't fucking someone else?"

He had a serious look on his face, "I may be an asshole and a criminal Reese. But I'm not a cheater. I'm not a fucking liar."

I was taken back by his tenacity. By his serious tone. For once, bitch was speechless.

He shuffled again. He had a complicated look on his face, "And...I...want you."

My eyes held his. I uttered, "What?"

He looked at my front room. He looked back at me. "I want to be your boyfriend, Reese."

I flinched. OMG. What the fuck was happening right now? I stared, utterly speechless. This fantastically hot, heart-wrenchingly good in bed gangster and self-proclaimed asshole just asked me out. Like serious, exclusive, committed relationship status out. And I was in rabbit pajamas. Holy hell my life was a wreck. I needed a smoke. He had money. Looks. Confidence. He was the top of every twink's wet dream. And he wanted...me? He could have anyone he wanted. And this bitch was a hot trainwreck. I hardly made rent. I was cute, sure. When I wasn't unshaven, living on cigarettes and had death pits under my eyes. Was the sex really that good?

He was in a gang. Doing illegal shit. What the hell did that even look like? What did a relationship with him even look like? What did a future with him look like? Wouldn't he grow bored and tired of my shit? My brain raced.

He watched me agonize. He took a step toward me. He held my eyes and ran his hand down my curls, "If it's because of the illegal shit, I get it. Just tell me. And I'll go."

Holy shit. Fuck. Fuck. Hasn't he just been reasonable this whole time? Hasn't he just been amazing, Reese? I couldn't fucking breathe. He has. And I'm just such a messy bitch, caught up in his own shit to realize it. The catch isn't that he's an asshole. Not really. It's that he's in the Yakuza.

His hand didn't leave my hair. "I should be clear. I will be in the Yakuza my whole life. Nothing will change that."

Fuck. There it was. The thing he will always put before me. Could I live with that? In exchange for the guy of my dreams? God this was so much. If he put his hands on me, he told me all the ways he wanted me, put his mouth on mine, I would say yes. God please yes.

I caught the hand in my hair and placed it back at his side. I looked at the floor, "I'm like you. I can handle asshole. Even criminal. I can't handle liar. Cheater. I have a couple things. Big deal things. Deal breaker things. First, I don't want to be involved in the gang shit. I'm trying to get my shit together, yknow."