The Punisher

"No. Kevin, you miss things sometimes, I need to be honest now, right? Blatant, like you say?"

"Please?"

"I am busy being in love with you. This, me, being in this store with you? This is not a favor to be traded. This is not a random task, something that, 'just needs a woman's touch', as my mother says. This is setting up housekeeping. This is a special kind of task, shared between people. Just like Emma and Kara working - as you so clearly described a minute ago - cluelessly trying to fold bedsheets and needing two people. That is also housekeeping."

"You are busy... 'being in love with me'?!??" I was confused - touched, but confused.

She smiled, and a tear dripped out of her eye, down her cheek. I wasn't sure what was happening. "Kevin. True or false. You just had an urgent question about how to create a functional home-space, and the first person you thought of to call about that was?"

"You. Or, Bree. But I know she has fencing lessons late on Mondays." She was in a private club as well as being on the school team. "Really, it was either one of you, total honesty. Alina talks about cooking a lot and I love that, but she's Ukranian and the things she makes aren't the same things my mom makes, so I... yeah. You."

"Would Bree make good food for you, and dinner conversation? Me? Alina?"

"Of course?"

"Who else?"

I thought about it. I could picture the people I knew, giving them an ordering as I went, girls I'd met in my classes (that Chinese/Asian girl I had chem with, who sat with us sometimes for lunch and had such great smelling home-cooked stuff), and even the oversold Chelsea, who wasn't very domestic-seeming but I had a feeling she could do absolutely anything she wanted to.

After listing some names, I said carefully, "I can picture them, and others, girls I know, cooking and making beautiful home-cooked meals. I can imagine sitting down at a table with them. Sometimes ... sorry to say this, but I have... kind of fantasies, about... some girls... and I picture what I'd do maybe if we were in a kitchen together. I want that, you know? Deeply?"

She grinned. "Truth now. Would that include me?"

Of course it included her, a lot of my jerk-fantasies included her and other people I knew really well, obviously. I scoffed, "Duh. Yes."

Unbidden, a vision, an image, flashed to mind, from that exact fantasy: a pretty girl standing at the sink, a girl I knew, a girl who Knew Me. In the fantasy, it wasn't exactly Mary, but it wasn't NOT her, either.

In that scene, I was coming up behind her, lifting her skirt, and caressing her butt, sexy, playing, stroking her soft skin and feeling her push back against me, glancing back, playfully, ready and waiting and wanting and needing with an Empty Spot that needed filling. And I was there, the one she wanted, ready with her. I would line up, pushing in slowly, rocking her body and her world.

The images in my head were overlaid (so to speak) with caring tender love.

It had only lasted an instant, but my brain was all-in and I got filled with that emotion.

Mary's look, up at me, tilted her head down, leading my view down past her lips, down past her chin to her chest. It was hidden by a half-open jacket, but her shirt had just enough slack at the top to let me see down to the very start of cleavage. I smiled but licked/bit my bottom lip and repeated myself, "Yes. You Are - Included."

Getting my eyes to come back up to hers was kind of tough, but she made it easier by pulling my head closer and leaning up into me. First she kissed me on my left cheek, then my right, then I figured where this was going and kissed her back, on the lips. My tongue darted to make my lips wet and found hers there and wet already and her tongue also darting. We pressed together. It wasn't a simple kiss. It didn't just equate to lip-touch or even rub-lips minor happiness.

I felt her connect with me like one of those movies where somebody's spirit comes out like a white fog from their mouth and flows into the other person, transferring power to or from both of them.

We pulled apart and rested there for maybe ten minutes, just standing against each other, like we were swaying slightly to a song that wasn't audible. And, it wasn't. The noise system in the supermarket wasn't on. I didn't hear music, but there was a rhythm to our movements.

Getting back to the mundane 'get this, not that' part of the shopping trip, she helped me choose cereals and food that were more healthy than I'd normally choose out of our pantry, but that was great in my book, and I complimented and thanked her for that. "I'd love to have healthy food that tastes good, it's not my area of expertise... it's kinda... home-building? To know someone that knows that?"

"Oh," she nodded nonchalantly, "I'll remember that. Bree might want to know. Now, what kind of cheese do you usually put on quesadillas?"

I laughed, "Mom puts on..." I lost it, I didn't know. "Uh, 'Mom's Kind', and thick ham slices sometimes.

She laughed and got several kinds.

The grocery bill was formidable but it was worth it.

I thanked her and we kissed again before she got in her car, and when we did I felt a little twinge in my ring. It wasn't a bad twinge, just a little movement. I had no idea what that was about.

== Pharmacy Trip ==

My next stop was a pharmacy.

In what was either coincidence or coincidental divine intervention, walking into the pharmacy I ran into Rose. Rose Lang was in Chorus with me.

In retrospect, there was No Coincidence about this. Some kind of divine thing was going on.

When I say I was in chorus with her, I have to clarify. I had two jobs in chorus. I was a bass (singing) and I was the piano accompanist. That meant I usually needed a page-turner, someone to sit next to me, pretty closely.

Rose was my page-turner.

I liked her singing voice a lot and had told her that on occasion.

Rose had always looked me in the eye nicely, confidently and with some interest, and even leaned on me once or twice (well, more than that) when doing the page-turning, since she had to see the conductor, too, and she usually sat off my left shoulder.

I knew I never had a chance with her, though, since she had been dating one of the tenors, a long-term thing. Even though I sort-of knew they weren't a thing anymore, I knew perfectly well that I'd be no 'catch' for her, and she was clearly out of my league (pretty, talented, and fun).

My fix for being around her and not having a hard-on all the time was to try to pretend she was my sister, or barring that, a Catholic sister / clergy.

And, sometimes that worked. She was friendly enough. It didn't _Always_ work though. She sometimes had to sit close to me and she even smelled pretty, and my heart fluttered, or somewhere slightly lower down should shift and move my pant-leg.

Rose asked what I was doing in the Pharmacy.

I said, 'supplies for the new wives, and for me, too."

She nodded, initially with disgust about them, but then with some kind of hope. "Can I help?"

"Suppose?"

"What's your list?"

I showed her the list I'd taken a picture of, and she asked if I really wanted the right stuff, the good stuff, or if I wanted to give them crap instead.

I said, "Wives, Rose. Gotta live with them. They may be entitled bitches, but I'm pretty sure that's going to change, at least I hope so. Wives deserve happiness, or at least the chance for it. I _will be_ a good husband."

She turned to me, then, arms at her sides and looked me in the face, searching my eyes. "You know, I think you're right. I think you will be a good husband."

Something about the way she said that told me she was thinking of that moniker attached to me, with her!

Starting as a wow-oddball idea, I considered it. Getting cheeky, I said, "What about you? Cuts both ways, this whole marriage thing. Domestic stuff, career, keeping house, babies, all that?"

Her face started considering that.

I kept going, "Have 'grown-up-now' ideas? We're supposed to be that, I hear. We're 18, so, yeah, like, find someone and go a-Rockin Full Speed?"

I said the last part in a funny voice to give it an innuendo and be funny, since I'd never talked with her about life plans or anything. Plus, it was kind of new for me to talk about sexy stuff, even innuendo, since I had so few realistic chances of that in my former self-concept.

I knew Rose really well. We'd sat next to each other for a long time, chatting in class in whispers while the music director got one section or another to do something less incorrectly. So, my prediction was as I said this, that normally she would have just laughed and said something witty. Probably it would have been about any guy for her having to be a racecar driver, astronaut, epic lover, and also secretly Batman.

Instead, she said, "The trade is interesting. Isn't it important to be friends, first? Am I your friend?"

I scoffed. "Of course!" Thinking on that, I added, "Yes. It's good to be friends first, you're right. I'm hoping that. Friend-wives!" I chuckled at the idea, like making-friends was a seriously deep commitment. "Not sure about my two yet. They have baggage... And, really, I do, too. Autism isn't easy to live with sometimes."

She nodded, and smiled with what I'm pretty sure was tenderness. "You do okay, though. I've noticed." Her smile continued and she nodded, going to the next subject, "Shall we get your wives' stuff?"

I said yeah, and we went around and got the stuff on their list. Part of me was Really Really glad she was along because one of the things on the list was pads, and I didn't have a clue what that meant.

Not having a clue, I called my mom and she brought the phone down to Emma, and then I handed off to Rose so they could discuss brand names, as well as what conditioner and face wash was the right stuff.

Rose handled it perfectly, got the answers in about a minute, hung up, and handed the phone back. "Done. Follow me."

We got the required stuff. I'd never bought any of that, obviously (being a guy and also somewhat shy). I'd seen what was in mom's medicine closet, and something of what was in the bathroom trash, but ignored it mostly and decided that I could safely live without that info.

I asked what she was getting, and it was just a new hairbrush, the handle on hers had broken when she dropped it. She was putting my stuff in her basket, so I just commented that I'd get that, too, it was the least I could do.

She nodded, like that was okay, but then had a sly smile. I didn't understand that; she normally would have made some objection about no-you-can't-possibly and I would have had to insist, but she didn't. I felt good that she'd let me be nice to her.

Once we were done with the list, Rose led me over to the trimmers aisle, and she put some more items in the basket I didn't know I needed. That included a nose/ear trimmer, and a box with both a beard trimmer and a 'personal trimmer' which we understood to mean for pubes.

I'd never cut my pubes, and I obliquely said that.

Rose laughed and said, "You don't have to cut them all off. Not required. But, here's the rules. A shorter bush makes the tree taller. A compact bush makes for fewer nose-tickles. And, underarm hair can go out of control, at least on my brother, so solve that."

I gave her a friendly side-bump in response to this and said, "I've had no info source. Thank you, you're filling my brain with essentials." I meant essential info, but it came out wrong. She did that to me sometimes.

"Oh, that's okay, Kev. I'll be glad to be a permanent info source for you. Everything, All The Time. ALL the info. So much info, you can't HANDLE the info." She was laughing.

This got a rise out of me. "Oh, yeah? I'll take that! I can handle ANY info you give me, now to forever, I'm the master-minder! My brain helmet is at least THIS big!" I held my fingers an inch apart.

"Noted."

She stepped into my arms and for once I was hugging her. I hadn't hugged her but just a few times before, and chorus is a class where everybody hugs. After a really sweet performance, you just need to, as a way to hold onto yourself since your brain just soared with the music.

This hug was a celebration hug, just like before, but it was our celebration, and I wasn't sure what was happening. My clueless factors were big, and I'd missed something, but she was hugging me so it couldn't be bad.

We had to step aside for someone, but then (on my open arms) resumed the hug, it was good. I was still confused, but happy.

Pulling her head and her body almost back from the hug, she asked, "You're not done are you? Can I?"

"With?"

"Two. What if I like this kind of offer?"

"I do, I like it, more is better." Two hugs? Yes. Three hugs? Yes, moar. I liked her, too.

She kissed me oh-so-briefly on the lips. "There. You've been kissed. Been wanting to do that for ages."

"Oh. Thank you."

"Thank me later. Let's get you checked out. My mom's gonna think I fell off the planet."

Deciding to be a little romantic, I said, "I'm the one falling, Rose. I'm not sure where I'm going - but anywhere with you to help out is a good day spent."

"Awww." She was grinning her butt off, we both were. We always had a good time together, playing, and making random comments about things. Sometimes I'd play for the orchestra, too, and she'd come along to help, and we'd have fun then, too.

Getting the stuff in the car, there wasn't much room left so I gave her another hug and told her to call Jo, it might be fun to have her come to a DND game sometime. This was a perennial offer from me, but Rose's brother always had some activity on Saturday mornings and her dad had to work night shift weekends at the hospital.

== ==

Driving home was the easy part; schlepping (Bree's word for 'lug') bags and bags inside made for more organization tasks, and I happily delegated that to the girls.

I had homework I'd missed out on over the weekend - reading my book for English - so I went upstairs and sat in the front room quietly.

Coming back downstairs an hour later, they had the groceries away but were busy fighting over what they were going to cook for dinner. I'd asked for something nutritious, but that could mean anything, and neither of them knew anything about cooking.

I figured they'd have to learn later, and just said what I wanted: Peas, yogurt, pickles, sausage, bread.

That was FAR too complicated.

I had to spell it out for every item - peas in water microwaved drained, one pickle, yogurt container, boiled sliced polish sausage, everything. Even slicing french bread was new to them. Ug. Of course, they hadn't ever set the table, either.

Simple stuff! They were idiots!

How did these people get through life without this base knowledge? I didn't know. What I did know was I didn't want them going anywhere near the washing machine, they'd turn things pink or add a whole container of bleach, I could see that happening!

We ate dinner and they told me what they worked on, and read. Kara was confused about Candide, and I said we'd talk about it later.

The Voice had said they would be 'without complaint' but it seemed there was some leeway in that directive, though my reminding them of that generated much more fact-based comments.

What I did want was their backstory, family life, history, all that kind of who-are-you line of wonderment, at least for the hour of dinner.

After that? I had shit to do - lots of it.

For one, I had to set up the safe and put away the documents I'd been sent, get my office area set up (in the area where we had our old TV and two couches) with my new laptop and printer, and try to make a nest.

Happily, they'd gotten most of my clothes organized.

That night, we crashed about midnight, and they tucked in beside me. Emma rolled over and we kissed, and I was horny, so I kissed her more and rolled with her, and then on top of her, and we did it again.

Sex is AMAZING. It was far better than the first time - less worry, less stress, more just-fun-having sensations flowing over me. She had a good time, too, but didn't come, instead just smiling and encouraging me.

After, I rolled back and relaxed, but she quickly bent over and licked me clean again. This was a new thing, I could tell, it'd be consistent.

My eyes may have stayed open a minute or two after she pulled up the covers. I was really tired.

== Second Morning ==

The next morning went badly. We contended for everything, they took too long in the shower apiece, and when I said it was time to catch the bus, there was this one-more-thing.

I walked out the door. I didn't know what the range of the 'stay close' compulsion or penalty, whatever it would turn out to be, but I did know I didn't want to be late, I had a quiz, and I'd actually studied.

Since they weren't there, and I didn't know the effects, I didn't take the bus and just walked - fast, mind you - but walked. About three blocks away, they caught up to me, jogging and whimpering in high-pitched pain.

The pain, for them, didn't stop until they touched my bare skin.

The fact-statements that weren't exactly complaints (but weren't NOT complaints) started, and I just walked away again, citing the rule and telling them to get some perspective, like what they were reading.

That mostly shut them up, but it didn't matter. I didn't want to wait, or to listen to that.

I didn't need to do the things they were asking of me, it was entitled behavior and I admit I told them off about having a choice between immense physical suffering or this, and they shouldn't make me regret that, or I could order them to do something really distasteful.

I didn't like making threats, but they just didn't get it sometimes.

Ug.

They peeled off and headed to the library again, and I got back to my routine.

Rose, my page turner in chorus, kept leaning on me, and I knew we were being watched.

Now, it's important to know something about the group dynamics in a chorus, at least in ours, and I had a feeling we weren't unique. I described this once in a DND campaign and everyone laughed.

A chorus is like having a raiding party made up of Elf Princesses (sopranos), smart saucy bar-wenches (altos), enchanted princes (tenors), and half-rangers, half-dwarves for the bases. About half of each section knew what they were doing and did it confidently, and the other half just keyed off the first half and hoped they were nearly right.

In other words, it's an institutional setting, and people were caricatures of themselves. Plus, being a large group, they could get gossipy and surface-focused.

So, yes, Rose's body being turned-in and pressing with her front against my side (constraining my left arm a little but I didn't worry about it), that made for some whispers.

As we left after class, she hugged me again and gave me a kiss on the cheek like it wasn't anything unusual. I liked that a lot!

== ==

I was getting horny during lunch (we had two main lunch periods, 4th and 5th), so just as soon as the girls showed up, I asked for another tour of the Ladies' locker room.

I had their lunches in my backpack, so they kind of had to follow me. In retrospect they were mostly resigned to doing what I wanted based on the pain they'd had that morning not keeping up with me, especially when I walked ahead of them.

It was about three-quarters of the way through the class period, so when we walked into the ladies locker room, we just had to wait it out right by the sinks for a while.

The first group to come in split off and headed over to the lockers on the far side of the room, and that was good because they looked like freshmen or sophomores. They were still carrying badminton rackets and I doubted they'd be showering (this turned out to be correct).