Filed under: completed, something about us | Tags: completed, kacieverse, OTP: i'll wait for you, SBU, sbu x outro, something about us, springbreak!chris
a/n: motherfucking teaaaaaars. well, this is over. for now. gimme about a week. or til’ tuesday. there’ll be something here. 😉
It might not be the right time
I might not be the right one
But there’s something about us I want to say
Cause there’s something between us anyway
“Kacie Jaylin DeVaughn, five minutes!” I hate when he uses my whole name. I get this weird tingle down my back, and it makes me shudder. I’ve been packed for a while, but I’m trying to ignore the packed bags resting by the door, and the tense mood he’s been in.
I don’t really think there’s any coming back from it, and it sucks. So I’ve just been here, hanging, in a situation eerily reminiscent of our summer in NY, in a studio I have no business being in, waiting for my next set of instructions, and sneaking a phone call.
I slide my phone out of my hoodie pocket and giggle at a groaning Bee on the other end.
“He’s back to the no phone bullshit, huh?”
“Yep. I had to slide it out of his pocket in a crafty way that I’m not so proud of. Well… yeah am. I quickly whispered as I kept my phone pressed to my ear and my eyes trained on the spot where’d I watched him disappear to.
“Kevin’s shooting a video in May so I’ll be going home to the Bay first. Kinda excited about that. You’re gonna actually be in the loft though, right? Please say yeah, Kace.” Bee inquired and I giggled. Hell yeah, we picked the place out as a uniform group, there was no way he was gonna snatch me from something that was mines like he was able to do from a hotel room I had no attachment to. Fuck that.
“Yeah, I promise. He’ll just have to come and spend the night.” I shrugged softly, and she sighed.
“Make sure he keeps on clothes this time… where is he, anyway?”
“He’s in the bathroom, or something. I gotta hurry up and get off of the phone though. But, now that I know what your intentions are, now all I gotta do is text Alex. I’ma call you later, alright? Love youuuu.” I quickly hung up as I noticed my toes were tapping against the floor as I sunk into the couch and quickly pulled up my yahoo messenger client to resume last night’s conversation with Alex.
KACE! : ayo alex motherfucker um – SUMMER CALIFORNIA, ME YOU BEE, MEL AND SHAYNE AGREED TO COME OUT FOR FOURTH OF JULY AND I CANNOT WAIT! Soo… pack your shit the second you get out of your last class before finals ‘cause I’m sending a ticket for your ass and YOU SHALL DEAL. Thanks 😀
I closed the chatbox as I leaned back onto the couch and waited for him to come back. I had to be at the airport in a little over ten hours, but to him, it didn’t matter. He just wanted me to ride, so we would be going to some studio he planned on renting a space in for a few sessions for Joelle and Sabrina, just to check the building out.
So as I waited around, wondering where he was, I was surprised when he popped up and sat next to me, removing my iPad from my hands and sliding it into my bag before pulling me up. I pout as he pressed his lips against mines and tugs my ear.
“What? Where are you trying to take me?” I questioned as he licked his lips and stared at me with a mischievous gleam in his eyes, and only then did my stomach drop.
“Baby, where are we going?” I questioned again as he tugged me towards a staircase, and I followed his lead until he accessed a room with a keycard, and pulled into it.
Surprises, surprises. If I wasn’t smiling at his last minute effort – ‘cause I knew it was something big waiting on me – I’d look just as anxious as he did.
“No blindfolds.” He laughs, and I roll my eyes as I mock him, but placate him by letting him slide his arm around my waist and cover my eyes with his giant hand. He smells like a cookie.
“I just wanted to you know…hang. It’s empty.” He whispered as he sat my bag down on a couch and pulled me towards a piano, which made me raise my eyebrow curiously. I watched him smile as he pulled me down to the bench and dug into a bag, passing me an edible arrangements box.
“You’re trying to drag out these three hours,” I snorted as he tilted his head to signify my correct answer, and I blushed. Man, this shit was going to hurt when he was alone. Skype couldn’t get us through with all of this.
“Chocolate, seclusion, and t-minus three hours til’ I gotta go. This is cool. It’s not a place I’ve learned to call home, but… it’s wonderful. Are you going to play me a song?” I nibbled the chocolate covered strawberries as he smiled and removed the cover, and started banging the keys.
“Ew, you suck.” I giggle, and he gives me the finger.
“I’m warming up! Alright. I got a song for you. A piece, so to speak.” Within a few moments, the song starts to get patched together in my head.
And I melt.
He’s talented, and I don’t think that many people can appreciate his creative mind. The piano and the guitar and he sucks on the drums but he got a few pointers and it was a fail, but he can DJ, so that’s cool. I like a multitalented man. Love, actually.
And I fucking love this song too, oh my god. The slow melody vibrated through the piano and straight to my ears.
In no matter how many renditions, this song always did something to me. I blushed. It wasn’t even the fact that he was so into it – I was fucking coming undone, melting, forgoing the chocolate cover fruit to stare and try my damnest not to touch him.
“You’re not gonna sing?” I raise my eyebrow but get trapped in the rise of it, following it as it gets intense and it falls, without words it’s still beautiful as fuck.
Then it dies out, slowly, and fades.
“Whoa. Why don’t you play more? Personally, I think it’s beautiful.” I blush, and he smiles before switching me onto his lap and playing a few disconnected parts of stranger in moscow.
“I know another song I think you like,” He starts to play again, and I squeal out loud, childishly excited. I love the talents he doesn’t show anyone else. Fuck, he is just…
I ghost my hand across his as he plunks the keys, already hearing the song in my head. God I mean…
I’m overwhelmed. He does that to me, all the fucking time.
There is so much of him that goes unappreciated, but with every reveal, major or tiny, minute on the bigger scale of everything around us, it’s what keeps me here, close, foolishly scolding myself for ever turning his company down. But, two months seem like a fucking death sentence.
I tilt back and exhale, and the playing stops. I frown.
“You remember how to play anything I taught you?” He whispers, and I shake my head.
“Um, all I remember is… the opener to Beethoven’s fifth, annnd… if you play moonlight sonata my undies are gonna come off, so don’t.” He grows stiffer at my nonsensical thumping of the familiar keys, and eventually wraps his arms around me and pulls me up, tossing me over his shoulder.
“You gotta warn me about shit like thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis,” I whine, pelting his legs with my fists until I’m horizontal against leather, and panting.
“It’s funny when you spazz.” He presses his lips against mines and starts to empty his pockets, and then curls up next to me, sighing.
“You gon’ be aiight, I’ma start biting you. Or, if you really want me to leave my mark…” My hands are fisting his hair, and I’m whispering, but I’m the one losing it. I’m the one about to break down.
“You’ve left your mark. Several times.”
“I’m not…fuck. I hate responsibilities at times.” I clucked my tongue and he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his chest.
“You’ll be back.”
“Of course, baby.” I press my lips against his forehead, and despite my initial head shake, I end up lost. I love how easy it happens, and this is just as frustratingly slow as it is monumental – two months without this? The fuck, man.
“I’m ready,” I say as I zip my bag closed. I frown too, because I’m not ready, but what other option do I have? I have to do this for me. I have to keep going, for me, and come back focused on us.
I step out into the hallway and gesture for him to follow. “Babe, come on.”
He shakes his head. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
Aw fuck. My eyes go big and I groan, because honestly, what in the fuck did I leave behind? I stand still, trying to do a quick mental recount of everything I could have possibly left behind, and coming up with nothing, I groan.
“I don’t think so….stop playin’ with me, we have to get to the airport.” He reaches for my hands and pulls me into him, pressing my back against the wall.
“This is harder than I thought it would be.” He admits, and I nod.
I hate his face at the moment, all sad and shit. I don’t analyze it—it’s impossible for me to think while he’s kissing me. So I don’t; I just feel—and I feel so much. But I can distinctly feel something in his pocket. I lick my lips and push my back rigidly against the wall, and sigh. What…
What the fuck.
The object was hard – too square to be his iPhone and too flat to be his keys. There was a hollowness to it, but still sturdy enough to poke into my hip. A box. It was a box, and I was closing my eyes, hoping and praying it was something like a double pack of gum or something. I think he knows that I know that there’s something there.
Something that scares the shit out of me.
He’s holding onto me, and then he stops, and disappointment replaces all the good feelings I was having.
“Christopher, you’re up to something, aren’t…” He’s looking at me like he’s waiting for me to complete my sentence, and though I suspect he knows exactly what I’m asking, he isn’t going to help.
His hands are in his pocket before I realize it, and I’m swallowing hard.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
The seventeen year old inside of me is holding hands with the eighteen year old and the nineteen year old has her hands covering her face, trying to hold down a flail. The twenty year old is glaring around to see if this is a joke, and the twenty one year old and twenty two year old are both sinking to the ground, shaking.
What the fuck, is this. what, the fuck.
“Can I ask you something?”
“You know I like you, right?” He starts, and I exhale. Thriller now, Christopher, really?
“Yes, now what are you…” I brush my fingertips down my face, trying to stop my cheeks from being so hot.
“And I hope you like me, the way I like you.”
“Yesss, now stop torturing me!” I groan, and he smirks, shaking his head.
“And uh, I was wondering if…you would be my girl.” He slides a box into my hand and I raise my eyebrow. This box is different, because this box is not a long rectangular bracelet or large square necklace box. This box is small and I’m pretty convinced it holds a ring.
My stomach drops. You would think it was thundering out with the sounds my heart was making by pounding hard against my chest, causing the blood to rush wildly in my ears.
I swallow hard, and quickly flip it open, getting it over with.
“I know.” He scoffs, and runs his fingertips down my face.
“But, I have something to tell you.”
“What, you’re not like other guys? Of course not, that’s why I love you. Duh, motherfucker. Now, why is this empty?” I poke him in the shoulder, and he laughs.
“Kace, I am different.” He wipes my face before pulling me off the wall and wrapping his arms around me. I groan, still frustrated, still clutching an empty box in my hand.
“Kace, hush. Seriously, I am different though. I’m not like other guys. You know that, but if you give me time, and that box will be filled. And you’ll be happy, and I won’t let you go. But first, I want you to go home, make me proud, and get ready for the summer. Can you do that?” He questions, and I inhale, ragged and slam my arms around his neck, holding onto him.
“I’ll wait, but I’m not waiting forever.” The smile on his face is fucking epic. I melt inside a little more, and force the empty box back into his hand.
“Alright, c’mon I’ll get you home.” He says.
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