Yet Another Season of Denial

The Ramifications of Yet Another Season of Flaming Denial

Yes, this was the perfect deal: neither of them would tell on the other. Perfect. They could sit here for hours, drooling over the facts of the situation and sharing memories. Photographs. Lovers details. But neither of them would have to admit to the free world that they still held unvoiced- well, until now- affections.

Perfect.

The "I won't tell if you don't tell" system of friendship was going to work out amazingly, Fallon smirked. She could divulge everything to Rose and Rose could do the same to her; and no one would be any the wiser. Especially the key players. Like say, well if, per chance, they were to rant and rave all night long about a certain male, he would never know.

"I don't want him to know," Rose spoke Fallon's thoughts aloud. Yes, that was the wonderful part about having best friends: they could read your mind. Fallon nodded and stared at her close friend: the beautiful but petite brunette that she had known for the past three years. The youngest of their group of friend's, Rose was every bit as beautiful as her name. From her upbeat, loving and bubbly personality to her gentle heart that she wore, more often than not, directly on her little Made sleeve. Fuck. Made. Fuck. "Did you hear what I was saying?" the soft voice inquired, and Fallon realized she hadn't been listening. She'd be lost in thoughts. Thoughts of him.

"No."

Rose nodded and handed the pint of chocolate chip cookie dough- complete with spoon- to her friend. "Fallon, you're really upset over this, aren't you?"

The raven-haired, elder friend leaned back into the sofa and sighed loudly. Her brown eyes filled with thoughtful tears as she eyed her friend. "Ro, it's not that I don't think-"

"It's the age thing?" Rose questioned, knowing.

Fallon nodded. "She's just way too young for him."

"She's my age," Rose observed and Fallon immediately felt guilty. Because that was true: the woman that he had left her for- had technically left both of them for- was Rose's age. Not even a woman, still very much a girl.

Fallon frowned. "Somehow, Ro, it's different with you."

Rose smiled softly and brought the blankets to rest more comfortably over the pair. She shut off the television and turned to her friend. "Fallon, I really think he still loves you."

"I'm not going to delude myself."

"I think he does."

"What if he doesn't?"

Rose paused to consider her friend's argument and shrugged. "Then he's missing out."

"He's missing out on you, too," Fallon pointed out and took a deep swallow of the creamy moistness. She loved ice cream. In fact, nothing cured a semi-broken, entirely-trampled-upon heart better than a good ‘ole pint of Ben & Jerry's. She smiled at the taste. "He's just an asshole. End of story."

Rose giggled. "But he has a nice ass."

"HE DOES!" Fallon sighed with a smile and tossed her head on Rose's soft shoulder. They were cuddled together under Fallon's favorite Care Bears' blanket- still intact from her childhood- both clad in their pajamas. It was supposed to be a Girls Night of fun and penis jokes; it had turned into a mutual mental coddling of the physique of a particular male.

"And he has gorgeous shoulders," Rose gushed.

"Beautiful shoulder blades," Fallon frowned, trying not to formulate the accompanying mental image for her words.

"Shoulder blades?"

"Yeah," Fallon failed to push away the image. She sighed, dreamily. "Like the way they move just under his skin when he flexes."

"You're whipped," Rose laughed.

Fallon handed the ice cream back to the younger girl. "Yuh-huh."

Rose bowed her head and stared at the melting, congealing cream. She frowned. "I never had sex with him."

This piqued the black-haired girl's attention and she sat up on the sofa and smiled, curiously. "Really? You two never…together?"

Rose shook her head and her ponytail bobbed slowly. "We only kissed."

"That's all?"

"Yeah," Rose bowed her head in shame. "It was at a party and someone dared us to."

Fallon frowned and placed a supportive hand onto her friend's thigh. "It's alright, Ro, you didn't miss much."

"You're lying," Rose laughed. "I know you're lying and it's okay, you don't have to protect me."

Fallon nodded and a smile brimmed across her lips. "I'm sorry, but you're right: I am lying."

Rose blushed. "And?"

"And he's good," Fallon shrugged, but bliss was tattooed across her features. "Really good."

"And?" Rose prodded.

They hadn't heard the door open or the footsteps, but they both glanced up into the familiar set of Hershey's chocolate irises as his voice filled the den. "It's not nice to talk about someone behind their back."

Fallon gawked at him before snorting. "It's not particularly nice to dump your girlfriend without informing her."

"You were never my girlfriend," he defended, turning to Rose for reassurance. She kept quiet and sat on her hands. This was their fight. "And I don't remember you ever speaking to me about this to my face."

"I speak plenty behind your back," Fallon smirked, standing up and away from the couch and stretching. "And just how the fuck did you get into the house?"

He reached into his pocket and dangled a set of silver keys in her face.

Fallon frowned and snatched them from his hand. "I don't want you showing up here."

"I don't want you talking about me behind my back."

"Then why don't we agree on both those matters and you leave?" Fallon taunted.

He grinned, side-stepped her and took a seat beside Rose. "Hey Rose, how are you?"

Rose stared at him quizzically. Part of her wanted to remain seated beside him like this, perhaps forever; but the greatest portion of her senses knew that this was clearly upsetting her friend. And she had to suppress her sexual urges. For this man. So she simply shrugged.

He grinned and patted her shoulder. "Come on, Ro, you're never this quiet. Move those pretty lips of yours."

Rose blushed as Fallon stormed at the pair and slapped him across the face, roughly. "Leave her the fuck out of this."

He shrugged, but he was grinning by now. He enjoyed riling Fallon; had always enjoyed it. Rose enjoyed watching the pair. He stood and smirked. "You know, someone needs to get a hold of their evil little anger management problem."

"I'll show you anger," Fallon retorted, raising her fist.

"It would be really cliché if you two started making out right now," Rose giggled and gained a nasty glare from the pair. She hunkered back on the couch and blushed. "Sorry, I…shouldn't have said that out loud."

"Making out," he pondered aloud. "It's been a while since we did anything like that, eh, Fallon?"

She winced. "Because you have a whore now."

"Leave my whore out of it," he smirked.

"I'll be your whore!" Rose quipped and gained two sets of amused stares. She blushed back into the couch again and sighed. "Sorry."

He smirked. "I think Rose wants me."

"Maybe she does," Fallon shot back, annoyed.

"She's not the only one," he taunted, moving closer to her, dropping his voice to just above a whisper.

Fallon laughed. "Arrogant son of a bitch."

"But you want me."

"I do," Fallon confessed.

"I know it," I smirked.

"Here?"

"Let Rose play too?" he questioned, raising a manicured eyebrow.

Fallon considered his words and then nodded slowly. "But be gentle with her, okay? She really likes you."

"You really like me too," he smirked, guiding her towards the stairs.

Fallon frowned. "Don't bet on it."

* * *

Rose straddled his waist, leaning forward enough to place soft kisses across his chest as he kneaded the flesh of her breasts. She cooed with his touch, he growled with the circular movements of her hips. Fallon watched the pair, realizing that he truly was a beautiful creature. Of course, her friend was gorgeous, as well; but Rose's beauty had never been in question. Only his.

"She likes watching us," he whispered to Rose, but it was loud enough for all three to hear. He enjoyed taunting Fallon; loved that he had control over her desires. He moved himself in such a way to ignite the flames between her thighs. "She likes to watch you sit on my cock."

"It's a nice cock," Rose blushed.

He grinned. "So I've been told."

What a cocky bastard!, Fallon seethed. He shows up on her doorstep, troops himself right into the house. Interrupts her visit with Rose. Invites himself up to her bedroom for a threesome, and now he's telling the world what a great lover he is. What an arrogant, son of a-

"Fallon?"

She snapped her attention back to him. "Yeah?"

"I think I'm ready for you now," he stated plainly. He knew all he had to do was make that puppy dog face and she would come running. She hated that about him; she hated that about herself. But she followed his instructions and replaced Rose. He grinned. "You're such a good girl, you know that, Fallon?"

She nodded.

"And do you know what dirty boys do to good girls?"

She had a vague idea. In fact, as she watched Rose hobble toward the bathroom and the waiting relief of the shower, she had a very, very good idea indeed.