The New Housemate

Summary: Amy is a health-conscious, strait-laced salesperson. Her new housemate Amy is a smoking goth dyke, something that annoys Amy massively. Something's going to have to change. Or someone...

The New Housemate

The day had come - her new housemate was here.

Truth be told, Amy Jennings hadn't wanted to share the impressive house with anyone. But this was London - the bills had stacked up, and her wage as a junior salesperson didn't go as far as she'd hoped. And so, faced with the painful economic reality, she'd posted an ad online.

She knew she wanted a female housemate, and she wanted proof that they could pay their way. Amy was working most of the time, so they just needed to be clean and friendly - she'd barely see them.

And so, after tons of phone calls and email conversations, she'd offered the room to Alice Chaplin. She was everything Amy had wanted, and she was arriving today.

There was a knock at the door - was that her?

Amy ran to the door and opened it, and looked in shock. Maybe, just maybe...

"Amy?" the woman asked. "Hi, I'm Alice."

Oh, no such luck.

She knew that Alice was 24 - the same age as her - that she sounded nice on the phone and that she could pay her share. What she didn't know was that Alice would be so... so much.

Alice was a goth, and she wasn't shy about it. She was dressed all in black - a see-through black top hung on her pale frame, encased in a leather jacket. A short skirt gave way to ripped tights on pallid legs, and chunky boots on her feet.

Amy looked at her smiling face - she could have been pretty, Amy thought, but she'd done so much damage. Her ears were full of piercings, a septum ring hung from her nose, a number of rings decorated her left eyebrow and her black lipstick-coated lips.

"Yeah, that's me," she said, processing the sight, "nice to meet you."

Alice stood forward and gave Amy a hug: "It's nice to finally meet you too."

Amy was caught off-guard - she inhaled sharply in shock, and was immediately conscious of the smell of smoke hanging off Alice and her clothing. She'd never thought to ask her potential flatmates if they smoked - hell, did anyone smoke anymore?

Alice released Amy from the hug and started pulling her belongings into the house. The new housemate hung up her jacket on the coat stand, and Amy noticed how much of her pale frame was covered in tattoos. She shook her head without even thinking about it - she hoped Alice didn't see - but she genuinely didn't understand.

Amy was proud of her body. She was the same age and roughly the same size as Alice, but that was where the similarities ended. Where Alice had black hair, cut to a shoulder-length bob with a clear undercut, Amy's was auburn, long and hanging loose. Where Alice had facial decorations, Amy had a perfectly made-up face - just enough to be on the right side of respectable - and some small ear studs the only piercings she'd think of getting. Where Alice smoked, Amy was a health nut - she'd taken the opportunity waiting for Alice to do some exercise, and she was dressed in her workout clothes and trainers when she'd arrived. She tended to wear brighter, lighter colours - she doubted there were too many of those in the suitcases Alice had brought.

Eventually, Alice was set-up. Amy had helped her take her belongings up to her room, and she'd showed her everything she needed to know - she gave her new housemate the keys, the wi-fi password, the bin dates, and anything else she needed to know.

And now, they were back at Alice's room.

"I'll let you unpack," Amy said, standing in the doorway, "just give me a shout if you need anything."

"I will do," Alice smiled back. She reached into her pocket for a cigarette packet and her lighter, and lit up a cigarette. She inhaled deeply and smiled, before seemingly remembering Amy. She smiled, and pointed the box in her direction in a gesture of friendliness.

"No, thank you," Amy genuinely felt a little sick, "I don't."

Alice shrugged and started unzipping a suitcase.

Amy started downstairs, a grimace on her face - what had she done?

***

About a week after Alice moved in, she and Amy had settled into an uneasy rut. Well, uneasy on Amy's part, at least - she doubted if Alice even knew there was a problem.

Alice did something with music, and so she worked odd hours. She was often out, and so her and Amy rarely met.

But when they did, it annoyed Amy. She could always smell the lingering smoke on Alice's clothes, and the thought of all those piercings and tattoos made her wince. If she wasn't smoking, she was on the phone to some woman, arranging a hook-up.

She hadn't yet brought one back to the house, but Amy knew it was just a matter of time, and she shuddered at the thought. Was she a homophobe? She didn't think so, no - it was just a matter of Alice not being the housemate she'd expected.

And, worst of all, she didn't even understand it was a problem. Alice was always friendly to a fault, and Amy hated it. Personality-wise, she was the perfect housemate - why did everything else have to be so wrong?

That night, Alice was out working. Amy had just prepared a cup of tea in the kitchen when her phone rang. It was Sarah, one of her office mates and her best friend there - she'd been away for two weeks now on assignment, and she was going to be away for another month and a half yet.

"Amy, how are you?" she asked.

And the conversation flowed from there - there was a lot of catching up to do.

It was maybe twenty minutes in when Sarah raised the question of what the new housemate was like.

"Not my first choice, I'll be honest with you," Amy said.

"What do you mean?"

"Well," she thought about putting it politely, and then decided to be a little more to the point, "she's a goth dyke. I mean, she seems nice enough, but she's a mess - she's got a face full of metal, she's coated in tattoos and she stinks of smoke."

"What are you going to do?"

"Nothing, I guess," Amy shrugged. "If she pays the rent, I suppose, and that's all I need. Who knows," she laughed, "maybe I could make her my project, help turn her respectable?"

Sarah told Amy that she'd see her at work soon, and hung off. Amy started making some dinner, the topic of the conversation leaving her brain in favour of planning a productive evening.

She wasn't even aware that Alice had returned early to pick up her phone - that she'd heard the entire thing, and that her mind was already figuring out what to do...

***

Amy's evenings almost always followed the same pattern. She'd come home from work, have a little snack, change into some exercise clothes and go for a stroll or a run, and then come back for a shower and settle in for the evening. Sometimes plans forced her hand but, by and large, Amy was a creature of habit.

Today would be a different day.

She'd come home, dressed respectably in a business suit that flashed her lean shape in an eminently respectable way, and she'd had a quick sandwich. She'd gone upstairs and got changed into her usual walking outfit - her dark pink yoga pants, a black sports bra and a loose-fitting top - and then she came downstairs to pull on her trainers.

In the house, they kept all the shoes in a nook by the door. But, when Amy reached the nook, she looked in to see that the half that normally housed her shoes was completely empty.

What had happened?

It was Alice - well, obviously it was Alice - who else could it be?

She heard a key in the door, and turned to face her housemate.

Alice entered - she was clad in an oversize black sweater with a crescent moon pattern, skirt, fishnet tights and some chunky combat boots. In her hand, there was a huge bag.

"Hi Amy," she smiled, "how are you?"

"Fine, fine," she replied, not overly meaning it. "Alice, where are my shoes?"

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I tripped and spilt a load of rubbish on them, so I took them all to be professionally cleaned. Sorry, I should have left a note, but I thought they'd be done before you got back from work - I was down there now, asking about your shoes."

Oh, Amy thought. She wasn't pleased at Alice's clumsiness, but she supposed it was an accident and she was paying for the cleaning.

"It's not just that, though," Alice smiled, and reached into the bag, "I went down to a friend I know and bought these."

She produced what looked like a small internet router - it was a sleek white box with a single hole on the top.

"I know you're a little worried about my smoking, and the smell, so I thought I'd get some of these for the house. They're smell neutralisers - you go by and they let off a little spray, and it kills bad odours. It's a miracle thing, really, and it smells lovely to boot."

Alice lifted it near to Amy's face in what appeared to be a spontaneous gesture, and it spurted some liquid at Amy. Caught off-guard, she jumped and inhaled it all. Alice was right - it was strangely nice-smelling. At once, Amy felt extremely relaxed, as if all her annoyance and tension had vanished with the wind.

"Oh my goodness," she was conscious that Alice was speaking, if little else, "I forgot that you go out for a walk every night, and I've taken all your shoes. Hmm," she thought out loud, "I suppose I can lend you a pair of mine, if you want? What am I saying, of course you do - you don't want to miss your walk, do you?"

"Of course not," Amy said without even thinking, "that's really kind of you, Alice."

Alice walked over to her side of the shoe nook and pulled a pair of black Doc Marten boots with a chunky sole, and she passed them to Amy.

"Here, you can borrow these, Amy," she smiled, before frowning slightly. Amy didn't like it when Alice frowned, she thought, before wondering where that thought came from.

"What's the matter, Alice?"

"Well, it's just - I can't let you go out in black boots and pink leggings - that would look stupid. You don't want that, do you?"

No, I suppose I don't want that, she thought.

"Here, come upstairs to my room - I'll get you some bottoms."

Alice took Amy by the hand, and guided her up the stairs. She opened the door, and she pulled Amy into her room - well, was it a pull, or was she happy to be guided?

Alice's room fit her general style - black, and lots of it, from the sheet and curtains to the bookshelf and furniture. Amy was conscious of the lingering smell of smoke in the room, and unconsciously sniffed for it.

It occurred to Amy that she hadn't entered this room since Alice moved in, and she felt strangely disappointed.

Alice reached into her black wardrobe and passed Amy a pair of black trousers.

"Here you go - you should probably go and get changed if you're going out soon."

And Amy nodded, taking the trousers and going into her room and getting changed, as if in a trance.

It wasn't until twenty minutes later, as she stood by the Thames in a sports bra and loose top, coupled with an unfamiliar pair of Doc Marten boots and black ripped skinny jeans with skeleton hands on the back pockets, that she wondered what exactly had happened.

***

Alice had placed the spray boxes liberally around the house, something Amy was to discover when she came home the next day. She supposed that her housemate had had the day off work - she was sitting in the living room, a cigarette in her mouth, in a black T-shirt with the logo of some band on it and a pair of black skinny jeans.

She noticed her sitting there immediately before that burst of spray hit her in the face.

"Amy," Alice smiled, "it's amazing to see you!"

Aw, Amy thought, she's happy to see me. She wanted to blush - why did she want to blush - she hated Alice. At least, she thought she did.

"I made you a snack - I thought you'd like it."

Amy thanked Alice and ate under her housemate's watching eye. Alice wasn't saying much - she was focused on smoking - but Amy was glad she was there.

The meal through, Amy went upstairs to get changed for her walk. She pulled on the sports bra and a loose top - pink tonight - and was suddenly conscious that the black ripped jeans were laying on her bed, the Doc Martens beside it. Did she leave them there last night, she wondered, or did Alice put them there today?

She thought she should find her yoga pants and put them on but, before she knew it, she'd slipped on the same outfit. There was something about the boots and the jeans she liked. How weird, she thought - she'd never liked anything like this before.

Amy wandered down the stairs and was caught by another burst of spray as she went to the door.

She was going to leave, but she heard Alice make a noise of uncertainty. She turned around, worry etched on her face.

"Alice, what's wrong?"

"It's just," Alice looked confused, "you're wearing bright pink with black - no, it doesn't look good at all. You must think that, right?"

She hadn't, but now Alice mentioned it, it was all she could think. Amy knew how to coordinate an outfit - what was she doing?

"Come here, Amy," Alice smiled, "we can fix this."

Amy walked into the living room, her head suddenly in a fog, and she stood in front of Alice. Her housemate stubbed out her cigarette and rose to her feet.

"You need a black top to go with that outfit, and you certainly can't wear a sports bra underneath - you need a good, proper black bra. Here, why don't you borrow mine?"

The next thing she knew, Alice was pulling her T-shirt off and unclipping her bra. She stood there in the living room, her top naked aside from the many tattoos and the nipple rings decorating her pert breasts, and she passed her clothes to Amy.

Amy didn't even notice to begin with - she was staring at Alice's body. She's never been interested in a woman - of course, she wasn't interested now either - but she hadn't realised quite how hot Alice was.

"Amy," Alice brought her back to reality, "take my clothes - you can't stand around in a mismatched pink outfit forever."

"Thank you, Alice," Amy said, audibly embarrassed, and she stood in place with the clothes in her hands. Alice was so cavalier about changing in front of her - could she do the same? She wanted to - wait, did she want to?

The original part of Amy's brain fought back a little bit, and forced her to go upstairs to her room to change. She pulled off her original top and hurried to get Alice's bra on, and she hurried to pull the top over her head. They were still warm, and that lingering smoke smell was still present.

They smelt of Alice - wonderful Alice.

She came back downstairs, and Alice gave a wolf-whistle.

"Look at you, you sexy lady," she smiled. "You know, you should take my leather jacket too - it would really complete the look."

Amy didn't need the suggestion twice. She thanked Alice and took the jacket from the coat stand, before heading out on her walk.

It took a little longer than the night before, but Amy's brain soon began reasserting itself, and soon glimmers of clarity appeared.

What was she doing borrowing clothes from a goth dyke? And why had she found it so hard to pull her eyes away from that goth dyke's breasts?

***

A week later, Amy had settled into a new routine. Well, perhaps not too new, but certainly a little different. She still came home from work in her business clothes, but now the spray was waiting for her and she always breathed it in, now without thinking. She sat at the table thinking of Alice, and then she went upstairs to get changed into her leather jacket, T-shirt, ripped jeans and Doc Martens, and then she'd head out for a stroll.

She'd been getting used to the fog of the spray boxes, something she'd started to enjoy, but a stray thought struck her before she left.

"Alice, did you ever get my shoes back from the cleaners?"

Alice moved over to Amy - she was in a short black dress and chunky black heel boots - and she stood close to her face. Amy thought she ought to tell her to step back, but for some reason, she didn't want her to.

For some reason, she liked the feeling of Alice being so close - the smell of her lingering smoke, the feeling of her warmth.

"Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry, I completely forgot - I'll give them a call tomorrow. I just didn't think you'd need them so soon - I mean, you look so beautiful in that outfit, Amy."

Amy blushed.

"Don't you think you look beautiful in that outfit, Amy?"

She blushed harder.

"I don't know - I mean, I suppose, I guess so."

Alice smiled: "Yay, I knew you'd think so. Well, I should let you go on your walk."

Alice leant forward and gave Amy a small kiss on the cheek - Amy didn't think she caught blush any harder, but she was proven wrong. Alice turned away casually, lighting a cigarette and returning to the living room, and it took all of Amy's power to drag her out of the house. Even then, she only made it to a nearby bench before she had to sit.

Her heart was pounding, and she felt so turned on. She became conscious of an incredible wetness between her legs. But why, she wondered. She was straight - she knew she was straight.

But then she thought of Alice, and her mind went foggy again.

Was she straight?

As Amy sat, puzzling out her feelings, Alice set about her own evening ritual.

When Amy went out for her stroll, Alice went into her room with a box of cigarettes and she smoked. She smoked at least half a pack standing about, and then she focused her attention. She opened Amy's wardrobe and she exhaled her smoke into it. She lifted Amy's quilt and exhaled into the bed. She exhaled all over Amy's pillows.

Alice wanted the room to smell, and she wanted Amy to be taking it in. She wanted Amy to get used to the smell of smoke, whether she wanted to or not. She wanted her housemate to love that smell unconsciously - the smell of smoke, the smell of Alice.

And it seemed to be working.

Amy went to bed early that night, and Alice knew why - she was turned on, so turned on, and she lay in her bed, playing with herself. Alice listened outside the door - as her housemate lay in her bed, a bed coated in lingering smoke and pussy juice, she swore she even heard Amy call her name.

Alice smiled - seems Amy wasn't too partial to the goth dyke after all.

***

That next morning, Amy woke up feeling exhausted. With some difficulty, she pulled on a business suit and made her way downstairs to be greeted by a spurt of spray and a worried-looking Alice, dressed in a black dress.

"Oh my goodness, Amy, are you okay? You look sick."

"I don't..." she felt uncertain, "do I?"

"You do. Maybe you should stay home today?"

"Oh," Amy was in a daze as the spray worked into her brain once again, "but what about work?"

Alice came up to her and embraced her in a hug, with one hand stroking her hair. Amy didn't know why, but it was strangely soothing and slightly arousing at the same time.

"Don't you worry about work, Amy - I'll call them and let them know you're sick on my way."

She broke off the hug and smiled at Amy.

"No, you focus on feeling comfortable and relaxing. Look," she checked her phone, "I need to go, but you go up and head into my room - feel free to borrow some clothes, okay?"

Alice turned to go - Amy took a step forward, barely a thought in her mind, to be greeted by another burst of spray.

"Sorry, I forgot," Alice said, "can't leave without a proper goodbye, can I?"

Alice took Amy's face in her hands and gave her a kiss on the lips. It was small - a casual gesture, nothing more than that - but Amy's body felt like it was on fire. Before she even realised what had happened, Alice was gone.

Amy stood there for the next few minutes, as the spray worked its way into her brain and Alice's suggestions became commands. Alice was letting her borrow some clothes - she should go upstairs and get changed.