Big Four college years (ft. Cockrat / Ivy)

S2 Ch5 | Stroke Belly Belch

8:08 pm

It was late, still a lot earlier than either of them expected to get home, but late nonetheless. Peter took out his key, struggling to unlock the door in the dark, eventually getting it. He holds it open for Marcy as she walks in.

"I can't believe it started to rain," she said, laughing because her jersey was drenched. "And those guys on the road! Man, that was fun, Peter."

"If you say so."

Marcy groaned, trying to remove her jersey. "Hey, uhm. Not trying to be weird, but, could you help me take this off? -- my batting arm's sore."

Peter stumbled over. "Yeah--No problem." You don't have to ask him twice. "You want me to unbutton it or...?"

"Just take it off normally," she requested in a polite tone, lifting her arms so he could take it off -- and he did, slipping her down into a white tank top and the high waist Batman shorts.

Peter smirked, tossing Marcy's musty ass clothes into the hamper. "You sure do sweat... a lot."

"Okay. First of all, if you had to carry your entire team on your shoulders, you'd be sweating too," she argued, laughing a little at herself. "And it's so hot outside."

Peter walked into the kitchen, spotting an expensive bottle of whine on the counter. Funny, because no one in his dorm could afford something like this. He checked the note set directly beside it. It was from Christian.

"What's that?" Marcy asked from the couch, seeing the bottle in his hands.

"Whine. The good kind," he answered, frankly. "Want some?"

Marcy shook her head a little. "No thanks, I don't even drink like that..."

"Uh-huh." He'd pop the bottle open, taking a sip of it himself. "Well I do."

"Are you even old enough to drink, Peter?" Kidded Marcy.

"Are you?"

"For your information, I'm 23 -- and a half," She told him, crossing her arms.

He takes a seat on the couch, setting the bottle on the coffee table. "Whatever you say, Grandma."

"Whatever, you're like... a baby to me, so respect your elders." She'd scoot a little closer, yanking the bottle to take a chug, and letting out a thirst quenched sigh. "Ah... That's good~"

"I told ya," he chuckled, sounding a lot more smooth with the alcohol in his system.

As Peter reached for the bottle again, she'd quickly move it out the way. "Hold on -- let's at least make this fun."

"How?" Wondered Peter.

"We ask each other question and if you don't answer..."

He'd finish her sentence. "They take a drink, got it."

"Alright, you can go first." She takes another fluff of her pigtails.

"So..." Peter looks around the room, narrowing his glance at her hands. "What'd you learn sign language for?"

"My dad lost his hearing when I was 13, I think," she explained, using her hands habitually as she spoke. "Now it's my turn."

"Hit me."

"What was your last girlfriend like?" She asked, smirking.

Peter didn't even bother opening his mouth to answer, just snatched the bottle for another swig.

Marcy chuckled. "That bad, huh?"

"Something like that," he replied, a little tipsy. The truth was she was like nothing. Because she was nothing, his made up girlfriend from Switzerland or whatever he told his friends. But, if she was going to get to the hard questions, he was too.
"Are you... A virgin?"