Something To Talk About (closed)

[Arioso]

OOC: This is a closed thread for Rhovan and Arioso. Rho, no rush...you are a busy, busy boy!


OOC: Brenda Williams, 19, college junior at State University. Double-majoring in Art and Philosophy (and really tired of hearing people ask her "what are you going to do with that?"). Still living in the dorms, although she wishes she could get an apartment. A tomboy all her life, she can make a dress look pretty good although she prefers jeans and a tee shirt. 5'7", slim, with auburn hair she tends to wear in a ponytail and blue eyes that are usually laughing...

IC:

Brenda dashed down the stairs of her dorm, late enough for class that she didn't want to wait for the elevator. If she sprinted across campus, she might just make it to Leitzel Hall before the lights went down for the lecture. She hated having to stumble through the seats once the huge auditorium had darkened.

Out in the lobby, she narrowly avoided crashing into a familiar figure. Instead, he grabbed her around the waist and spun her around in his arms, using her momentum to get them both circling like an amusement park ride.

Paul Knight.

"Hey, slow down there, Speedy Gonzales," he teased her as he had so many times before. Even when he slowed them to a stop, he held her easily in his arms, her back pressed against his chest. Brenda craned her neck to answer his good-natured, amused smile with one of her own.

They'd known each other since they were in kindergarten back home in the same small town. Paul had been to every one of her birthday parties -- even when he'd gone through that phase were girls were "icky". They'd spent summers together playing kickball out in the street, looking for frogs in the swamp on the edge of town, and just generally goofing off. Sure, they'd had falling-outs -- the worst, when Brenda had discovered politics in high school. It had been the unhappiest three months of her life when they'd barely spoken to each other, but eventually they'd made their way back to common ground.

Now, she couldn't imagine a day without him.

"Paul, I'm gonna be late," Brenda insisted.

"I know. When I didn't see you in the dining hall this morning, I figured you'd be doing the Brenda Express across campus. But you've gotta eat something."

He loosened his embrace, letting her slip out of his arms, and handed her an apple.

"I grabbed this for you from the line," Paul explained with a warm smile as he plopped the apple in her hand and then gave her a friendly nudge toward the door. "Now get going."

"Thanks mom," Brenda laughed, rolling her eyes at him as she dashed out the door.

Despite the fact that it was a pretty large campus -- close to 10,000 students -- they saw each other throughout the day: meeting for lunch with their group of friends, sitting together in the one class they had in common (Calculus…which Brenda was really struggling with), and then at a Friday night floor party in the dorm as everyone celebrated, once again, the arrival of the weekend.

Brenda danced on and off with various guys and Paul never lacked girls who were happy to flirt with him, but somehow, they managed to spend a large part of their time just sitting together on one of the lounge couches and talking about nothing in particular.

They even danced together a couple of times, although it was a comfortable, friendly dance. Paul's arms around her waist felt as natural as they had that morning, when he'd spun her around in the lobby. Everything about him felt natural -- the way they moved together, hardly needing music; their conversation; everything.

What baffled all their friends, though, was that they weren't dating. They'd never even thought about it.

But strange things can happen when a question is planted in someone's mind.

After the party, Brenda was in her room getting ready for bed when her roommate, Jill, commented, "One of the freshman wanted to know what was up with you and Paul."

Brenda shrugged. "What do you mean, what's up with us?"

Jill chuckled. "I think she's got a crush on him. Anyway, she's new. She hasn't had time to learn about the Brenda-and-Paul thing yet."

Brenda paused before her closet, midway through buttoning up her pajama tops, and shot Jill a quizzical look. "What Brenda-and-Paul thing?"

Shaking her head as if it were obvious, Jill chided, "Oh come on! You two are a couple who won't admit you're a couple. You do everything together."

"Well…yeah. Paul's my best friend, so of course we do stuff together," Brenda insisted a little defensively.

For a long moment, Jill fixed her with a bemused, who-are-you-kidding-honey look, then muttered with a sly grin, "Never mind. 'Night, Brenda."

Perplexed, Brenda turned out the light and crawled beneath her covers.

Brenda-and-Paul thing?

It was just…she'd never thought…

But…

For about half an hour, she lay awake, thinking about all the time she spent with Paul, about everything they did together. It was silly. They were just good friends!

And yet, the idea had been planted.

Moreover, unbeknownst to Brenda…the same idea had been planted in Paul's mind by his roommate.

 

[Rhovan]

OOC: Thank you so much for your infinate patience AriO!

OOC: Paul Knight, 20, Junior at the state univeristy. Older than Brenda by 14 days. Paul had moved to an apartment much to Brenda's chigrin. 6' tall, always in a collared shirt and had a series of unusual pants, most two different colors. Black shock of hair, piled mostly on top of his head, hazel eyes that drifted from green to brown as his moods changed.

IC:

Paul had been waiting in the lobby. He looked to his watch, counting down in his head on his mental clock. "10...9..." He moved away from the elevator, seeing that it had just opened and didn't contain Brenda. "5...4..." He moved closer to the exit of the stair well, and waited the remaining few seconds until the door burst open and out darted a woman, who even in flight had a certain...desirability that slapped everyone in the lobby in the face. Except Paul. Paul moved a step as she dodged to his side and his arms snaked out around her waist, pulling her into his chest as they spun in a tight circle across the floor.

"Hey, slow down there, Speedy Gonzales." It was one of Paul's signature lines. They continued to circle around until they stopped, Paul holding Brenda tight as she looked up and back at him, smiling as she usually was. Paul's best friend. The only girl that didn't make fun of him when his voice shattered like so many Hummels tossed from a roof top in sixth grade. The girl that not once, not twice, but three times had turned down a date to a school dance in order to go with him, as he couldn't muster the courage to ask anyone out. Of course, the lack of courage might be due to the fact that those years were 6th, 7th, and 8th grade and all the girls still laughed at his now too deep of a voice. But Brenda didn't mind, she was always there with a shoulder and a laugh to keep his spirits up. They would climb trees, he taught her how to drive, as he was 14 days older than her and thus got his liscense first. She taught him how to swim, and they had been together for nearly 14 years already. Well, not including that time when he made a brass and stupid comment and had hurt Brenda's feelings terribly. Politics were quickly excised from their relationship.

"Paul, I'm gonna be late."

"I know. When I didn't see you in the dining hall this morning, I figured you'd be doing the Brenda Express across campus. But you've gotta eat something."

Paul released her waist and turned her with a hand on either shoulder. Then he pulled an apple from his bag and held it out to her, which she opened her hand for. Paul dropped it and she snatched it up deftly, this being another game they had played for years until it became tradition. "I grabbed this for you from the line. Now get going." He nudged her gently with his hip against hers, and she gave him a amused but exsaperated look.

"Thanks mom."

"Your welcome dear!" He shouted back as he shook his head and started for his own class. He was going to be late due to his delay with Brenda, but he didn't mind. He was often late because of her, but it had become expected of Paul. That is Brenda wasn't already somewhere, he would sneak in a minute or two late. It was take with a grin, as Paul was one of the best students at the school, what with his quick wit and his rabid need to learn.

The week passed as it always did, Paul and Brenda spending quite a lot of time together, even with others. It was always commented on by everyone they mingled with, but never so loud as to alert Paul and Brenda to the musings. In fact, there was a pool running a year or two back, but everyone gave up on it. It seemed like they would never find one another. Even if they did spend most of their time together. So on the week went until the Friday night floor party in Brenda's dorm, to which Paul was always the last to show up to, due to a tight schedual.

Paul had sense gotten past the ostricisim of his middle school years and had grown into his voice admirably. He was of fairly standard height and coloring, but he had a smile that was quick to appear and a sense of humor that was decidedly off kilter from the norm. He was wide at the shoulder, narrow at the hip and despite being a bookish non-athelite, he still kept himself just on the far side of healthy. Granted, he had about 10 or 15 pounds on him that he was the only person to see. But due to his nature and his wit, Paul never lacked for dates, and even less so for dance partners. He lacked all rythme what so ever, and thus nearly all the girls sought to be the first person to make a dancer out of Paul, if you exluded Brenda.

Paul had no rythme, but with Brenda, he was a veritable Gregory Hines. It was like they shared talents, him drawing from her the rythme he needed and her following the disjointed routines that were never the same, and never practiced but performed flawlessly. Thus Paul and Brenda didn't dance with each other for to long, because they inevitably drew a crowd. They did however always manage to sneak in a dance or two so they could comment on the people at the party, and just enjoy themselves.

When not dancing, Paul found himself talking to Brenda, which was just the thing to do. They sat next to one another, talking about everything and anything, as people rotated around them, joining, leaving or staying to enjoy the casual ease and air of the couch on which Brenda and Paul sat. They had a smiled and a cheerful welcome for whomever walked up, spoke to everyone who came near and were even a source of subtle speculation. They sat next to one another, laughing and touching as if it were the most casual thing in the world as they spoke, but they didn't even seem to notice one another.

It was a common misconception that they were dating, when they were obviously not! Obvious only to Brenda and Paul.

Later that night, after a 'good bye' that last nearly twenty minutes, Paul made his way back to his own apartment. He shared it with a friend that he had several classes with over the last three years and was decently good friends with. Paul arrived home, to find his friend too drunk to fish. Which was also par for the course. As Paul walked past however, he was addressed by his friend.

"Hey man! Where you been all night?"

"I was at the dorm party with Brenda, like every Friday night Steve."

"Are you bang'n that chick yet man?" Paul chringed at Steve's words.

"I've told you before Steve, we are just friends...good friends." Paul started to move again, towards his room.

"Why don't you just ask her out man?! It's like you two are already dating!" Paul didn't pause as he entered his room and shut the door. As he slowly got over the horror he felt over his room mates brash comment about 'banging' Brenda, Paul started to think about the rest of the things Steve had said.

"Ask Brenda out? I do all the time..." Paul thought. But he knew, that wasn't what Steve had ment. Not to hang out, or see a movie...but ask her out. "Would she turn me down?" Paul thought, he assumed that yes she would. But he also knew she wouldn't be rude or mean about it, and he started to wonder more.

Should he and Brenda try a date? Like, a date date?

Paul laid down, intent on sleeping on the idea before he made a choice. Sleep was always good.

 

[Arioso]

By the following morning, Brenda had convinced herself that Jill's comment about her relationship with Paul was no more than post-party gossip. After all, Jill had been in gossip mode. Hadn't she been eager to tell Brenda about the freshman girl who supposedly had a crush on him?

A fond smile tugged at Brenda's lips as she got dressed to meet Paul for breakfast at their favorite diner, not two blocks from his apartment. Well, who could blame any girl for having a crush on Paul? He was a great guy -- any girl would be lucky to have him as a boyfriend. Down-to-earth, fun, good-looking, considerate...he had a lot to offer. It had always ticked her off that the girls in middle school had giggled at him and made him feel so self-conscious. Like all the swaggering jocks were supposed to be the ideal men? Sheesh. She'd gone with him to dances, both because she hadn't wanted him to miss the fun, and in the hopes that at least a few of the girls would have the chance to see how great he was.

Thankfully, Brenda didn't have to worry about matchmaking any more. Although a freshman might be a bit young for him...

Oh well. She shrugged and grinned to herself as she zipped up her jeans. At least she could tease him about it!

The Oak Street Diner was a cozy little hole-in-the-wall that Paul had discovered halfway through their first year at State. A place where students and locals mingled because the atmosphere was relaxed and the food was cheap. Brenda arrived first, so she got a booth and ordered some coffee.

While she was waiting for Paul, a tall, muscular blond guy -- he looked vaguely familiar -- approached her and struck up a conversation.

"Hi...it's Brenda, isn't it?" he asked with a cautious, hopeful smile.

"Yeah," she acknowledged, grimacing somewhat apologetically. "I'm sorry, I don't know your name."

"It's Jason. I'm in Calculus, too -- I usually sit a few rows behind you."

"Oh...okay. Tough class, isn't it?" Brenda commented.

"No kidding. Hey, do you mind if I join you?" Jason asked, nodding toward the booth.

Brenda's brow furrowed in sympathetic regret as she explained, "Actually, I'm meeting someone here."

Disappointment flickered briefly in Jason's eyes, but he recovered quickly and said, "Sure, yeah, I figured you were, but it didn't hurt to ask. Listen...would you like to get together sometime? You know, maybe tomorrow for some coffee?"

All Brenda had planned for the weekend so far was studying. She frowned in thought for a moment, trying to remember if she had anything else going on. After a brief pause, she suggested, "I'm a little worried about the midterm coming up next week. I don't suppose you'd be interested in studying together tomorrow instead of coffee? I'm just not getting the hang of this stuff."

Jason's face brightened. "That sounds great. I'm no math whiz, but I think between the two of us, we can figure this out. How does 3:00 sound?"

"Fine. See you then," Brenda agreed, smiling at him.

It was only after Jason withdrew that Brenda reflected and realized that she'd just been asked out on a date. She groaned inwardly. Why was she so clueless? And she'd suggested STUDYING instead?!?

It was official. She was a geek.

Well, at least she'd dressed attractively this morning.

That gave her pause. Brenda actually took stock of what she was wearing: form-fitting jeans and a soft, cashmere sweater that clung to her in all the right places, revealing that yes, she did have a feminine shape when she chose to show it. But the odd thing was, she usually dressed for comfort on lazy Saturday mornings. Relaxed jeans and a sweatshirt, that sort of thing.

So why had she felt the need to wear something just a little more feminine today?

Before she could puzzle over that too long, Brenda caught sight of Paul entering the diner. Smiling brightly, she waved him over to the booth.

"Morning, sleepyhead," she greeted him as he slid into the booth.

"Like you're one to talk, Miss Sleeps In Until Noon On Sundays," Paul joked back. She'd actually only slept that late once in her entire time at college -- the day after she'd learned her alcohol tolerance limits the hard way at a party, and spent the next day sick as a dog. Paul still loved to tease her about it, but like a true friend, he'd taken care of her for much of that day.

"So, what's for breakfast this morning?" he asked.

"Haven't looked at the menu yet," Brenda admitted. Then, opening a menu and keeping her eyes demurely fixed on it, she grinned slyly and remarked, "I hear there's a freshman who'd like to get to know you a little better..."

 

[Rhovan]

Paul Knight

Paul was early. He was always early. In fact, Paul was known for his habit of hurrying up so he could wait. But he didn't mind, so long as he wasn't late. But he was late this morning, and for all the reasons he could be late, it was because he couldn't find something to wear.

This was puzzling to Paul. His wardrobe was specifically designed over the years with help from Brenda to be perfect. Perfect in so much as no matter what two items he pulled out, they would always match. Always. Yet Paul couldn't do it this morning. He just couldn't find something that was nice enough.

Which really made Paul think; after all, he was just going to see Brenda. Right? "Right," he told himself firmly. Then he continued to agonize over his wardrobe. He was close to the diner where they always met, and he thought he could still be right on time, and pick out something unassuming yet stylish. He couldn't. It didn't exist in his wardrobe, it just didn't. He finally settled on a pair of cargo pants (because they all were), and a collared shirt with three buttons (much like the rest of them.) The whole ensemble was all in muted blues, with tan shoes that he always wore. He looked to the clock, and he was late.

Late! He was never late! Yet there, staring him in the face was the irrefutable evidence of his own watch. Which he was fairly certain was set to the right time. But right now, he hadn't the time to adjust the setting on his watch! He had to get to the diner to meet Brenda! "I hope she isn't mad at me," Paul thought. Which was odd, sense Brenda was never mad at him. Well, outside of that one period of time...

Paul rushed out of his apartment, doing a fair impression of the Brenda Express. He flung open the apartment door and took six or seven steps away before relising he had to shut the door and lock it behind himself. He returned to it, and did just that. Then he turned and doing something he had always secretly yearned to do, but never had the courage to do, Joe lept the hand railing from the second floor into the grassy courtyard below his apartment. He jumped born of the courage of a man who was utterly confused by the woman he was supposed to meet. He hit the ground with his feet, took a step, stumbled and rolled another three steps. He stood looking at his outfit, grass stains on his left knee and his right hand, a twig which he was unaware of in his hair. But Paul had shaved several moments off the trip, which was good, because he was already five minutes late.

Paul hit the courtyard gate at a run, which forced him to take a half step back when his hand slipped off the doorknob to quickly. With a muttered curse, a violent twist to the knob and a well placed kick the door swung open. Paul narrowly made it through before it came crashing back and latching close. Paul jumped the three steps leading down to the street and flat footed it across the street in a luckly placed lull of traffic.

Paul ran nearly head on into Jason, who was just leaving the diner. Inwardly, Paul sighed loudly, cursed and spat. On the outside, Paul stopped as Jason spotted him, and waved. They weren't good friends, but they were friends and Paul couldn't be rude -- mainly due to all the rudeness he himself had caught over the years.

"Hiya Jason, how goes everything?"

Jason looked a little rejected, but smiled. "Nothing. Just got me a study date though."

Paul raised an eyebrow. Jason was known for getting around a bit. The women all liked him, he just didn't hang around after he got what he wanted. "So who is your next victim Jason?" Paul asked. They weren't victims, they loved the attention, and sometimes went for a repeat performance.

"Brenda." Paul's eyes widened, but all he could say was, "Good luck with that...I'm late...Sorry." Paul turned, pulled open the door to the diner and walked in. Only to be immediatly flagged down by Brenda. Moving quickly, Paul slid into the booth, his feet stretching out and to the left of Brenda's feet, his hands immediatly starting to fiddle with the menu but his eyes never hit the plastic coated paper. He was looking inward, and staring at the seat next to Brenda.

"Morning, sleepyhead,"

"Like you're one to talk, Miss Sleeps In Until Noon On Sundays. So, what's for breakfast this morning?"

"Haven't looked at the menu yet. I hear there's a freshman who'd like to get to know you a little better..."

Paul smiled, the movement causing the twig to fall into easier view of Brenda. "Really? Well I hear you have yourself a study date..." He grinned, but inside he felt jealous. "Why am I jealous? What the hell is going on...I spent all my time with Brenda, why would I be jealous of a study date.." His thoughts wandered off as he set the menu to the side, intent on ordering the special, which he always got.

"Sorry I'm late...I got..." His words trailed off. How did he explain his sudden fear of looking bad for Brenda? He thought quickly, "I got a speeding ticket on the way over." He cringed. Yeah, he drove his car across the street and down a couple blocks. Right...Paul was known for being smooth with women. Or not...

 

[Arioso]

Brenda chuckled at Paul's excuse.

"A speeding ticket, huh?" she echoed dubiously, not really caring why he'd arrived just a few minutes late, but wondering why he felt the need to make up some sort of excuse. With a bemused twinkle in her eyes, she glanced up at the twig dangling from his hair. "So...were you driving through the trees?"

At Paul's quizzical look, she reached up to tug the small piece of debris from his hair. It was a little tangled, so she had to use both hands to unravel it, and the side of her hand brushed intimately against his cheek as she worked.

"I have no idea how that got there," Paul shrugged and grinned a little sheepishly.

Cocking her head to the side, Brenda mused, "Hey, but it makes a great fashion statement. Eco-conscious hair accessories. Soon, everyone'll be doing it. See?" She reached behind her head to the band that held her ponytail and tucked the small twig between the loops. "It's catching on...you trend-setter, you."

Brenda winked and nudged him playfully in the side with her elbow.

Paul rolled his eyes and laughed, "Yeah, Brenda, 'cause you know just how much I care about fashion."

When the server arrived, Paul ordered the special (as usual), and Brenda followed suit. It wasn't really the food that she enjoyed so much as the company...Saturday mornings just wouldn't be Saturday mornings without the tradition she and Paul had made out of having breakfast together.

There was something nice about seeing him first thing in the day.

"Well, you don't need to care about fashion," Brenda countered, sipping her coffee. "You draw them in with your personality."

Paul adopted a mock-thoughtful pose and quipped, "I thought it was my tractor beam."

Brenda snorted softly and shook her head, unable to contain her huge grin. "Yeah, right. But seriously, you're fun...you're funny. People like that." Waggling her eyebrows, she added, "Especially freshman girls."

"They're too young," Paul protested. "And anyway, what about your study date?"

With the tables turned, Brenda's playful demeanor morphed into a forlorn lament. "I totally messed that up. I can't believe it. I'm really stressing over this Calculus midterm. If I can pull a C, I'll be happy. But I'm such a putz! I get so obsessed with one thing, and my brain just focuses on that, and then poof! All my social skills go kablooey."

Merriment danced in Paul's eyes at her choice of words. "Kablooey?"

"Big kablooey," Brenda nodded, leaning her elbow on the table and resting her cheek against her hand. She furrowed her brow in mild frustration. "I suppose I shouldn't worry about it. I don't really know the guy, but he seems nice enough. And he actually took the time to ask me out. But that's just the thing!" She slapped her free palm lightly against the side of her forehead, in a self-berating gesture. "I didn't even clue in to the fact that he was asking for a date until after I'd suggested that we study for the exam instead of meet for coffee. Jeez, I can be so dumb when it comes to guys."

With a sigh, she shook her head, silently dismissing the topic as pointless. Brightening a little, she changed the subject and said, "Hey, there's this Spanish film I'm thinking of seeing tonight at the student union. Something about tango lessons. It's supposed to be really good -- won the Cannes film festival in 1998, I think. You wanna come with?"

 

[Rhovan]

Paul Knight

"Big kablooey. I suppose I shouldn't worry about it. I don't really know the guy, but he seems nice enough. And he actually took the time to ask me out. But that's just the thing! I didn't even clue in to the fact that he was asking for a date until after I'd suggested that we study for the exam instead of meet for coffee. Jeez, I can be so dumb when it comes to guys."

"Calculus too." Paul responded, picking up the obligatory glass of water and sipping from it.

"Huh?"

"I said, don't be so hard on yourself. Besides, maybe he can help you with calculus." Paul said, never missing a beat on his obvious cover up.

Brenda looked confused for a half moment, then went with the only thing she really heard Paul say. "Maybe. Do you know anything about Jason?"

Paul calmly set his glass of water down, and folded his hands across the table. "Nope. Can't say I do. Never met the guy in my life." Then he looked upward in thought for a moment. "Well, other than the meeting I just had with him outside. And the fact that we say hello whenever we see each other. And the fact that we hang out sometimes." Lowers his eyes back to Brenda's face, " Other than that, never heard of him."

Paul picked up his water again and sipped at it. Brenda had that look on her face that said: "I know your lieing through your teeth right now, but you obviously don't want to talk about it so I'll let the moment go while retaining the right to bring up the subject again at a later date when you least expect it."

Paul's face was showing the look that said, "Yes I am lieing, and the next time you ask I'm going to put us right back in this situation, but I might tell you on the third attempt."

They laughed suddenly, the sudden tension easily flowing away from the table like a broken kiddie pool's water table. Then Brenda brought up her own subject.

"Hey, there's this Spanish film I'm thinking of seeing tonight at the student union. Something about tango lessons. It's supposed to be really good -- won the Cannes film festival in 1998, I think. You wanna come with?" She looked...hopeful? Excited? Elated? Paul pondered for a moment, then replied with the first thing he could think of.

"But I'm already wearing my good clothes." He paused a moment, trying to figure out if that was an excuse not to go, or a 'yes, I'll be coming along' reponse. So he kept talking, "And they have grass stains...what will woman think if I'm wearing clothes with grass stains." He paused, rethought the sentence and relised his sudden error. "Women...must of been Freudian."

Paul shut his eyes again, then opened them, mentally berating himself for letting so much go. But he was nervous, and he got chatty when he was nervous. "I need to use the restroom...one moment." Paul slid out of the seat and down the aisle, and into the rest room. He splashed some water on his face, then he dried himself off and did his best to rid himself of the pesky grass stains. When he came back out of the bathroom, he was carrying the vase of flowers that had until moments ago rested on the ledge near the sink. He set them next to Brenda and sat down.

"Happy 10 days until your birthday." Paul said, as the waiter passed the table, removed the vase and went to put it back in the mens room. Paul looked at his watch for a moment.

"13 seconds...they are getting better at this game, don't ya think?"

 

[Arioso]

Brenda watched in confusion as Paul left the table and headed to the men's room.

What had brought that on?

It was just a movie.

A slight wrinkle formed in her brow, tugging her eyebrows together while a perplexed frown curved her lips.

Paul knew she didn't care about the way he dressed or even if he had grass stains on his pants. If he didn't want to go to the movie, why couldn't he just say so?

She sighed, shaking her head, and took a sip of coffee. Maybe he was just in a weird mood.

Or...hmmm....

A thought occured to Brenda, eliciting a faint, budding smile.

Maybe he'd already made plans to go? What if he was meeting someone there? After all...he'd said something about a woman...or women...could he have a date?

The idea grew on her. But oddly enough....rather than smiling delightedly as she usually did whenever Paul got himself a new girlfriend, Brenda found her smile wavering just a little. Why did the prospect of going to the movie alone suddenly seem not so fun? Shoot, she did it all the time, because she always knew that she'd meet up with at least 2 or 3 of their friends. And she probably would tonight, too.

Oh, she was being silly! Brenda snorted impatiently at herself and firmly shoved this weird, lonely feeling aside. It would be great if Paul were meeting a girl tonight. He hadn't dated in a while, so he was about due, anyway.

Just then, her friend emerged from the men's room, holding a small vase of flowers in his hand, and all of Brenda's inexplicable anxieties melted away. This was an old game of theirs...one that irritated the staff at the diner (although not too terribly much).

And for some reason, even though Paul had done this many times before, Brenda felt a reassuring, fluttering warmth in her gut when he set the flowers down before her. Her cheeks even flushed a little, although she didn't know why this small gesture meant so much to her.

"Happy ten days until your birthday," Paul quipped easily. Within scarce seconds, a waiter breezed by and removed the flowers without even glancing at them, almost as if it were merely part of the morning's routine. Paul checked his watch and commented, "Thirteen seconds. They are getting better at this game, don't ya think?"

Brenda grinned at him. "I think they practice after hours. Kind of like training for the Olympics."

She didn't bother bringing up the movie again. The two of them knew each other so well that they could say 'yes' or 'no' to an invitation to go do something without any awkwardness....usually. So, if there was something going on with Paul that made it hard for him to decide if he wanted to see a film, Brenda wasn't going to press. After all, he'd already slipped into close-mouthed mode over Jason. Maybe Paul just didn't feel like talking this morning.

"So, what's the big birthday excitement going to be this year?" he asked, all traces of his earlier edginess gone.

"I don't know," Brenda admitted thoughtfully. She scooted back just a little and stretched her legs out on Paul's lap, adopting her usual waiting-for-breakfast pose. "It's not the big 21-run yet. But I'll be done with all my midterms by then, thank god. I suppose I could have a party...but I'd almost rather do something simple. It's been pretty warm this fall; warm enough to go hiking out at the forest preserve. Maybe I'll try to get all my work done before the weekend and just go for a hike."

 

[Rhovan]

Paul Knight

"I think they practice after hours. Kind of like training for the Olympics."

"If he was a little more Russian, I'd say he had been practising since he was 6. But he's not...and so I wont." Paul smiled. He didn't know what he had run to the bathroom, but he needed to calm himself down some, and stop thinking of Brenda as such an attractive woman. She was his best friend! Besides, she would never think of him in that sort of light.

Paul managed to get himself back into line what his normal Saturday morning. Enjoying his time with Brenda. Sure, they went to the same place every Saturday, but Paul knew he would be happy with her where ever they were. It was kinda a shock to Paul. He'd never thought of it in those terms before. How much he enjoyed his time with Brenda, how much he depended on it. Sure, he would go out with women, but he knew afterwards he would come back and find Brenda, then rattle off a reason as to why he didn't like the girl, they'd share a laugh and then they'd hang up or go to their respective domiciles.

But the reasons he didn't like the girls were the things that made her different from Brenda. Paul blinked. Then brought himself back to their converstation.

"I don't know. It's not the big 21-run yet. But I'll be done with all my midterms by then, thank god. I suppose I could have a party...but I'd almost rather do something simple. It's been pretty warm this fall; warm enough to go hiking out at the forest preserve. Maybe I'll try to get all my work done before the weekend and just go for a hike."

Paul's hands dropped to Brenda's feet, when she placed them in his lap. It was casual, and it was pretty normal for the pair. This way, if she said something smart about him, he could tickle her feet. Paul thought about his hand resting on her foot, and suddenly wondered what her calf felt like, but he again brought himself back to the converstation and out of his revear.

"Well with your study date, you should have calculus down fine." Paul said, while his mind thought, "And Jason's tongue down your throat.." Not that Paul was jealous. Nope. Not at all. "And you've been doing very well in your other classes, or so you've led me to believe," Paul gave a sly wink at that. "So I don't see what you couldn't go on the hike ya want. You thinking like your party, just out on the road? Or something a little more cozy?" But again, Paul's mind was running contrary, "Maybe you should invite just Jason on your hike..." He thought.

Then the waiter arrived with their plates, and started to set them out in front of them. Paul immediatly slid the salt and pepper over for Brenda, and took the syrup for himself. He squirted the syrup over just about everything on his plate. Then he grinned at Brenda, who always questioned the logic of such a display. "Don't knock it until ya try it," Paul said, his left hand still resting on her crossed ankles, his right hand now wielding his fork; spearing bits from the plate and bringing them to his mouth.

 

[Arioso]

Brenda smiled in bemusement and shook her head at Paul's syrup-saturated breakfast.

"Don't knock it until ya try it," Paul fired at her as he contentedly chewed bites from his plate.

"I'll take your word for it," Brenda countered, tucking into her own food.

She hadn't really meant to be dismissive, but something in her response must have challenged him. His eyes lit up with a look she'd known ever since she'd dared him to climb up onto the roof of the grade school when they'd been kids -- and he'd actually done it. Brenda had come to think of it as Paul's "you're on" look.

Oh dear.

His grip on her ankle tightened as he gave her a sly, sidewise glance and dipped his finger in the pool of syrup on his plate. Extending his finger toward her mouth, Paul taunted, "Come on...open up..."

"Paul," she sighed in half-hearted protest. However, when the syrupy tip of his finger brushed against her lips, Brenda parted them and sucked his finger in her mouth.

Sweet. Syrupy sweet, as the phrase went, but beneath it there was the taste of Paul. Brenda swirled her tongue around his finger, cleaning it, when she felt a slight rush of heat go through her. They had always played around and teased each other, with their teasing often taking a physical bent. But for the span of a heartbeat or two, something about the mood seemed...different. Brenda had raised her eyes to Paul's, intending to meet his playful taunt with her own "I won't back down" stare, but the scarcely veiled intensity she saw in his eyes shot to her core. And jesus, she felt it!

There, with her mouth wetly suckling Paul's finger, Brenda was jolted by the warm, tingling sensation of a tiny drop of moisture pooling between her nether lips and dampening the cotton of her panties. God...she was...she had...

She was wet! What the hell?

Abruptly, Brenda released Paul's finger from the sensual grasp of her lips and drew back, flushed and flustered.

Too confused to confront what had just happened...or the fact that it had happened with her best friend...Brenda fell back on the time-honored strategy of avoidance.

Perhaps Paul sensed that something was wrong, because when she tugged her legs out of his lap, he released her ankle without a struggle. For a moment, there was an awkward silence at the table. Brenda took a long sip of coffee, giving herself time to collect her thoughts.

When she set her mug down, she quietly shifted gears by answering his question about the hike.

"A big party on the trail might be a bit much. There's not a whole lot of time to plan it -- and I know that Michelle, Brian, and Zach all have a Geology field trip that weekend. I guess something cozy."

Brenda had been making an effort to appear nonchalant as she spoke, trying fervently to find her way back to that casual sense of ease that had always existed between Paul and her, but when she said the word "cozy", she blushed and glanced away.

This was Paul! The guy who knew her better than anyone in the world -- even her own family. Why couldn't she look at him?

But his next remark was so terse, so uncharacteristically flat, that her gaze instantly snapped back to his.

"Sounds great. So who's on your guest list?"

For some reason, a hollow, unhappy pit formed in Brenda's stomach at the detached tone of his voice.

"You have to ask?" Brenda murmured, her eyes glimmering almost beseechingly. It was impossible for her to even consider a birthday without Paul...and the idea that he had considered it filled her with a sharp, gut-wrenching sense of loss.

He was teasing...he had to be...they teased each other like this all the time. So why couldn't she calm herself down?

"It wouldn't be any fun without you," Brenda asserted, with stronger emotion than she'd expected.

The truth was slowly dawning on her, and it left her stomach doing such acrobatic flip-flops, she wondered if she'd be able to eat her breakfast. She'd thought Jill was nuts. But now, Jill's words last night were nagging at her mind.

Especially since Brenda was slowly admitting to herself that she'd just thought of Paul...like that...and her body had responded with definite interest.

And now, it had her so flustered that she couldn't even feel certain that Paul was teasing her. Her pulse was pounding as she worried, for the first time ever, that he might not be interested in spending her birthday together.

 

[Rhovan]

Paul Knight

"I'll take your word for it."

Paul looked up, his right eyebrow raised. She'd just called him out, as she had done routinely for the last 15 years or so. Well, perhaps in her mind she hadn't called him out, but Paul read it as that. And Paul, never one to be dismissed; ever since he had to climb to the roof of the school, would not be dismissed this time either. Paul's left hand gripped Brenda's ankle, as she had the unfortunate habit of running away and had always been faster than Paul. His free hand went to his plate, coating the first segment in the thick maple syrup. Then out and across the table his hand went, the syrup starting to run down around the finger and form into a drop that threatened to fall to Brenda's plate if she moved too slowly.

"Come on...open up...try the syrup, you'll like it, I swear" His words were accompied by the continued approach of the confection covered finger.

"Paul" Was all she said before the finger brushed her lip. Curiously, she hadn't moved her head away at all, which didn't seem like Brenda so much. Even more curiously, instead of licking the large drop of syrup from his finger, she instead trapped it inside of her mouth. Her tongue moved around the intruding digit, and Paul was suddenly glad there was a table between them. He had an erection, and it wasn't a subtle building up to it sort of thing, just suddenly he was aware of a tightness in the crotch of his pants and a desire growing in his loins. He didn't know if he should excuse himself to avoid embarrassment or climb over the table and kiss her, in attempt to get his syrup back. Paul was lost in the feeling of her mouth on his finger, as if it were but a simulacrum of a much more potent phallis. His eyes burned with a lust he had scarce felt before. Consumed like lust had always seemed such a cliche, but it was the only appropriate response. His eyes moved to Brenda's eyes, as opposed to her mouth and they just stared at one another for a moment. Her tongue still working on his finger, though the syrup was long gone at this point.

They both blinked at the same time. Or at least, Paul assumed she blinked too, since he really couldn't see through his eyelids. One moment there was a certain...something lingering between them. Lust? Desire? Certainly confusion...but then it was gone. Brenda's mouth opened and he brought his hand back to his side of the table quickly, acutely aware of the slight chill of his wet finger in the air. Moreso aware of his painfully erect cock beneath the table, and very close to Brenda's foot. Then Brenda was pulling her feet from his lap, and Paul was both hurt and releaved. He felt as if he had ruined something between them, as her feet left his lap; but he was also happy that she wouldn't find his erection. She wouldn't make him feel bad about it, but she would tease him a bit about how he needed a girlfriend. Just like she always did. And for a moment, Paul thought she was right. He did need a girlfriend, so he could stop having sexual thoughts about Brenda. Unless...but Paul wasn't yet ready to look at Brenda like that, mainly because she didn't look at him like that. And the last thing he wanted to do was force Brenda into a situation where she wanted to say yes to protect his feelings, but needing to say no because she didn't feel that way about him.

He watched Brenda drink, and so he took another fork full of pancake, listening to her talk as he ate quietly. "A big party on the trail might be a bit much. There's not a whole lot of time to plan it -- and I know that Michelle, Brian, and Zach all have a Geology field trip that weekend. I guess something cozy."

He saw her blush, and he himself was a little confused. But he quickly caught on to the only idea that seemed to fit the situation. He had embarassed Brenda, and made her feel self concious. "Damnit Paul!" he thought silently, "Why are you always doing things like this!" He berated himself for a moment. Then thought of something else. Perhaps she didn't mean him. Perhaps her 'cozy' time on the trail was ment for Jason. Paul felt his stomach drop, she didn't want him at her birthday. It hurt, he wasn't sure why, and on a lesser note was happy about the hurt because his erection died quickly in the face of it. Paul didn't mean to make his next statement as blunt and sharp as he did, but he wasn't thinking about his words in the face of the pain he had just felt.

"Sounds great. So who's on your guest list?"

"You have to ask? It wouldn't be any fun without you,"

Paul thought for a moment. Perhaps he had miss-read Brenda entirely. He wasn't known to do that however, even when they had first met they clicked so well together, that is seemed like fate, or karma or destiny. So Paul went with his instinct, which he relised was also an attempt to lash out a bit, as if he could get rid of his own pain by sharing it with others.

"I don't have anyone to bring...don't you think it would be a little bit akward with You, Jason and myself? I don't want to impose on your plans or anything..."

Paul set his knife down on the table and pushed his barely touched plate away from him enough to be able to fold his hands over one another and onto the table top. he felt like either crying a bit, or punching something. He knew he wasn't about to hit anything, but he didn't want to share his feelings with Brenda, as she conflicted enough as it was from the looks of things.

 

[Arioso]

A deep furrow creased Brenda's brow. What on earth was Paul talking about?

"Jason? Why would I bring Jason on a hike when I just met him?" Brenda asked, confused by Paul's suggestion. She pursed her lips thoughtfully and acknowledged, "Okay, so he's been in my Calculus class all semester, but I didn't even know his name until this morning. That doesn't even come close to the fifteen years I've known you."

As she spoke, Brenda glanced at Paul and noticed that he, too, would glance fleetingly at her...but for some strange reason, they both looked away as soon as their eyes met. It bothered her. She'd always been comfortable around Paul, and now there was this stupid awkwardness. It had to be her fault -- she was probably projecting all of her anxieties and just making their conversation that much more garbled. I'm letting my emotions get the better of me, Brenda sternly chided herself.

She took a deep breath, as if a rush of oxygen could douse the jitters in her chest. Then, ignoring the mild panic she felt at the thought that Paul just wasn't interested any more -- that maybe, he was pulling away from her, she forced herself to just ask.

"Look...I'd really like it if you went with me. If you don't want to go hiking, we could do something else, maybe...something simpler?"

Brenda sat on her hands to keep from fidgeting and waited, her eyes flitting between Paul's face and the table. She kicked herself for not having the nerve to look him in the eyes, but she knew the reason. That old "the eyes are the window to the soul" thing. They'd been friends their entire lives, yet now she was afraid that he'd see it -- that if he looked closely enough, he would actually see the less-than-pure flashes she'd just had about him. Sure, it was probably irrational -- it wasn't as if she were wearing a sign that proclaimed "I just got wet over you" -- but Brenda couldn't shake that fear.

"Wait....you're going to let me determine what you get to do on your own birthday?" Paul asked, sounding surprised.

Although she felt her hands twitch beneath her legs, Brenda kept sitting on them. If she didn't, she knew she'd start making all sorts of animated hand gestures, which is what she did when she got a little agitated or wrapped up in a really strong conviction...and then Paul would want to know what was bothering her. Instead, she tried to pull off a casual shrug.

"Well, not exactly. It's just...the plans themselves aren't all that important. Having fun is, and I have fun with you. I mean...I'd still like to go hiking...if you're up for it..." she explained, although it felt like torture just getting the words out.

"Brenda," Paul asserted a little forcefully, as if the tension between them had finally struck him as ridiculous. "Of course I'm up for it." He reached across the table, grasped her ponytail where it hung down over her shoulder, and gave it a playful tug. "I'll always be up for it."

The relief she felt left Brenda beaming at him brightly. For that moment, all was right with the world again, and it shone forth in her expression. Unbeknownst to Brenda, that expression -- the one that only Paul could draw out of her, because he was indeed, in many ways, a large part of her world -- resurrected his earlier erection. For there was nothing so flattering for anyone, male or female, as that subtle signal that said: you're important to me.

Not realizing that she'd had this effect on her friend, Brenda thought nothing about reaching across the table and taking his hand in hers. She gave him a friendly, reassuring squeeze, just needing to exorcize that earlier awkwardness...but, then, found herself holding his hand for the remainder of breakfast.

They talked about all of the usual things they talked about on Saturday mornings -- classes, their friends, current events, places around the city that Brenda had sketched for her graphics class, books that Paul had just read. And somehow, their hands just stayed joined together.

It felt natural...and yet not. Brenda didn't even stop to think of what she was doing until she'd nearly cleared her plate. They'd held hands plenty of times before, just for that reassuring bit of human contact. But suddenly it struck her how good it felt. Paul's hand was warm and solid. Every now and then, he brushed his thumb gently over the back of her hand...and Brenda realized that she'd been doing the same to him. She wanted to keep doing it.

The earlier wetness returned, this time accompanied by a faint but insistent ache between her thighs. Brenda wanted to touch Paul...touch more of him.

Since they were nearly finished with their breakfast and the waitress had brought their check, Brenda had a convenient excuse to release Paul's hand -- as much as she didn't want to. But at least there was no cause for awkwardness.

Well, that was, until she looked up at Paul again.

Brenda was just fishing a $10 bill out of her wallet to cover her half of the check when she raised her eyes to Paul's. His pupils were dilated, darkening his gaze, shading it with a kind of heat that Brenda hadn't seen in him before. For a second, her breath caught in her throat.

"So," she managed to whisper, "Fifty-fifty, same as always?"

Paul nodded, shifting his attention to his own store of cash. "Yeah, like we always do."

As he set his bills down atop hers on the table, Paul asked casually, "So...you wanna come over tonight? We could rent a video and order a pizza."

"Oh....I um....well, there was the tango movie I was going to see at the Student Union," Brenda began, half-apologetically.

Paul tapped his forehead lightly with his palm, as if he'd just remembered. "That's right, I forgot. Okay....so, I'll see you tomorrow sometime, maybe?"

"Yeah," Brenda agreed with a smile.

For the rest of the day, after they parted ways, Brenda couldn't stop thinking about the mood at breakfast. It kept her from concentrating on her work. She went through cycles of denial and realization, closed her eyes and revisited certain looks over and over, recalled the warm, slippery feel of her own, budding desire, and it all came down to one thing: she was crushing on Paul.

So what was she supposed to do about it?

The afternoon dragged on...then dusk arrived....and finally, Brenda resolved to go hang out with him. She didn't need to see another foreign artsy film at the Student Union -- and she could always rent it later. And now that she was wondering about Paul, and what it was she was feeling for him, she just couldn't let it go. She needed to spend time with him...see if it happened again, or if it had just been a fluke.

That was what led her to make her way over to Paul's apartment at around 7:00. Little did she know, though, that as she was knocking on his door, hoping to spend the evening relaxed together on his couch and enjoying a video or two, Paul was over at the Student Union, trying to spy her in the crowd lined up to see the night's movie.

 

[Rhovan]

Paul Knight

"Jason? Why would I bring Jason on a hike when I just met him? Okay, so he's been in my Calculus class all semester, but I didn't even know his name until this morning. That doesn't even come close to the fifteen years I've known you."

Paul felt miserable. That was the only emotion that really came to the top of the termoil his head was in. It bobbed to the surface several times, as if to put a hue to his roiling psyche. He couldn't hold her eye, because he felt silly for being jealous of her date. He couldn't hold her eye because he suddenly relised she ment a lot more to him than just a friend. He couldn't look her in the eye because he didn't want her to see how much he suddenly cared, and how much it would hurt if she said no.

"Look...I'd really like it if you went with me. If you don't want to go hiking, we could do something else, maybe...something simpler?"

She shifted to sit on her hands. Which was curious to Paul, she always had her hands in motion. It was how Paul could read her mood. The jerkier and frantic the motions the more agitated she had become. When she was in a particularly good mood, her hands would dance the most fluid motions in the air in front of her, and every time Paul had ever pointed it out, she wasn't aware of it. It was just one of the things that made Brenda, Brenda -- and Paul had always loved it. Now she was sitting on her hands, while she didn't relise she was doing it, she obviously trust Paul not to lie about it.

Paul was knocked out of his emotional tumult when he heard what she said. When he really heard it. She never gave up on her plans so easily. Ever. Brenda had this ability to be so stubborn, a mule could learn from her. It was rare, but it usually came out when she had her heart set on something, and here she was, giving up without so much as a 'but Paul!' It didn't make sense, and Paul had to be sure he understood her correctly. "Wait....you're going to let me determine what you get to do on your own birthday?"

"Well, not exactly. It's just...the plans themselves aren't all that important. Having fun is, and I have fun with you. I mean...I'd still like to go hiking...if you're up for it..."

Paul felt better. He knew he had hurt her, but he knew in a day or two, it'd be water under the bridge. Brenda didn't have an ounce of malignity in her entire body. In her very essence. Paul was suddenly unsure of why he was so worried about everything. It was just Jason after all, it's not like she would drop him for Jason. Hell, she'd know what he was like 15 minutes into their 'study date.' So Paul did what he had always done across their years of knowing one another.


"Brenda, Of course I'm up for it. I'll always be up for it. Because it is spending time with you." And he tugged her ponytail lightly. Initially it had been an accident, a hand hold to keep himself from going down like a ton of bricks on that fateful day in the play ground. He still went down like a ton of bricks, and she did too, in a heap on top of him. She started to cry, and he spent the next ten minutes doing everything in his then limited reserve to make her laugh. Nothing works. He picked his nose, he made fart noises with his armpit, he ate dirt. She wouldn't laugh. But when he had presented her with a dirt stained smile and a fist full of poses from the little thicket of weeds near the fence. She didn't laugh, but she stopped crying, smiled and walked with him to the water fountain to clean his mouth out.

Paul looked at her, as his hand came down from her hair. Her whole body lit up at the sudden ease of tension between them. Her smile started at her lips, but it certainly didn't end there. It encompassed her whole body, as if she was the smile itself. Paul had seen this face a lot of times; like when he got her the Winny the Poo doll for her 8th birthday, or when he took her driving in his car across those two weeks when she didn't yet have her liscense. But this was the first time that smile hit Paul so squarely in the stomach. And the libido. Paul was once again self concious of his straining erection in his pants, wondering how he suddenly found something that he saw at least once every couple of months so very erotic. Then he felt her hand slide over top of his own, and he barely managed to resist the impulse to thrust his hips upward. She squeezed his hand, and he held it back. It seemed only natural to finish the meal using only his free hand, manuevering the fork around the plate to scoop up the syrup as needed.

The rest of the morning flew past, and lamentably so. Paul found himself trying to savour every moment of their usual banter. He didn't want her to release his hand, or have to release hers in turn. Their fingers idly moved across one another's hands, their fingers twineing together and moving about as if they were playing with one another. They continued to talk, their meals finished and now they just sat, talking and touching one another's hand. Paul actually thought he was feeling a little light headed due to the strength of his erection. Then the check was there, and Paul relised they had ran through the hour very quickly indeed. Paul was still pondering his new found feeling of lust when he noticed Brenda going for her money. He raised his eyes to her own, and saw a look of shock in them.

"So, Fifty-fifty, same as always?" He could just barely hear her words, and he dropped his eyes to his hand which just removed his cash from his pocket. Pulling a ten dollar bill of his own and placing it down on top of her own. Paul was always fond of over tipping, so he place another couple dollars onto the little pile. "Yeah, like we always do. So...you wanna come over tonight? We could rent a video and order a pizza." Somehow, Paul kept his voice level and calm. He was amazed, usually he stammered his way through something like that. Not with Brenda, but the sudden rush of embarassment stayed out of his voice. And for that, he was greatful.

"Oh....I um....well, there was the tango movie I was going to see at the Student Union,"

"That's right, I forgot. We were just talking about that. Okay....so, I'll see you tomorrow sometime, maybe?" Paul mentally derided himself for being so foolish.

"Yeah."

Paul didn't know what he was thinking. He had the perfect opportunity to spend the evening with her watching a foreign artsy film, and he had turned it down for a movie at home and a pizza? Paul couldn't believe it, he turned her down. And why would he do it? Now that he suddenly desired to spend every moment with her that he could. That was a curious thought. Why did he want to spend so much time with her? And it was a thunder bolt hitting Paul as he was walking home from the grocery store. He felt more than friendship for Brenda, the erection should have made that painfully clear. And it did in a way.

And that is how Paul found himself at the student union, moving up and down the line of students, generally pestering everyone to see if they had seen Brenda. Mostly he only got laughs, and idle comments about how he was a fool, or asking if he was going to step aside for some other guy to get a chance. Paul stood outside the student union until the entire line disappeared, but no Brenda. So he snapped up a ticket and went inside. He spent 15 minutes going up and down the center aisle of the theatre, looking for Brenda and finally left when the audience started to shout at him for interupting the movie. Paul wondered out of the student union with a thoughly dejected look on his face. He'd blown it. He blew her off, and now she didn't want to hang out with him.

But as Paul was walking towards his apartment, he started to think. What if Brenda and Jason's study date was tonight? Maybe that is why she didn't want to spend the evening with him. At first he thought she was really going to see the movie, but she knew that most of the time, he didnt' enjoy films like that. She used it as a smoke screen on him. He walked along dejectedly, kicking at a small pile of mulch and moving it down the street under his shoes. Paul was focused on the ground, and his anger, and thus he missed the fleeting image of Brenda moving the opposite direction away from his apartment.

Paul walked to his apartment and opened the door, he tossed his keys to the ground and kicked off his shoes angerly. He threw himself onto his couch and lay there for awhile. Why did she dodge him tonight? Not being at the student union where she said she was going to be. She must be out with Jason, but she made such a fuss this morning about how she had just met him.

And what about the hand holding? And the near constant erection, when thinking about her? Paul straightened himself out on the couch. He turned on the TV to escape his thoughts at the moment. He didn't know what to do. He couldn't figure anything out other than he was suddenly physically attracted to Brenda, and she was spending time with Jason now. He felt so frustrated that they wouldn't talk and interact on a friendly level anymore. Paul was loosing his mind, that was the only thing he could think of.

 

[Arioso]

Brenda eventually gave up knocking on the door to Paul's apartment. It looked like he wasn't home. She wondered where he was. Had he made plans after she'd turned him down on his offer to hang out?

Dejectedly, she realized she couldn't really be upset if he had. After all, he'd invited her over. She'd been the one to turn him down. Still, she brooded over it as she left the apartment building, barely managing a weak smile and a greeting for one of Paul's downstairs neighbors.

Perhaps he'd found a party to go to. There was always one going on. And who could blame him? Why should he sit home on a Saturday night, when there was plenty of fun to be had?

Fun...at parties....surrounded by freshman girls who all thought he was cute...

Brenda wrapped her arms around herself as she walked home, her heart sinking at the thought of Paul laughing and enjoying all the usual, flirtatious attention he received at parties. Mentally, she knew that he had every right to be out doing that....but she couldn't help feeling just a little....lonely. And frustrated. It was slowly dawning on her that she wanted to be the one flirting with him....that her eyelashes could be fluttering coyly and suggestively at him....

But she didn't know how to pull it off. The thought of flirting with her best friend filled her with a paralyzing panic. She'd look so dumb! He'd probably wonder what had gotten into her to make her start acting...not like herself all of a sudden.

So she went back to her room and spent her Saturday night studying Calculus. She supposed she could have done some sketches for her graphics class, but long ago she'd discovered that she had to be in the right mood to sketch. No doubt anything she managed to get down on a blank sheet of paper would come out looking gloomy and stark.

Calculus it was, then.

A subject that she didn't like terribly much. Something she may as well concentrate on while she was miserable.

Of course, she couldn't keep it up for long. She was in bed and asleep long before her roommate Jill came back after an evening out. However, Brenda hadn't fallen asleep immediately.

Her mind was still too worked up over breakfast, and the feelings she'd had. In her loneliness, Brenda started imagining how the evening might have gone differently. A fantasy slowly took shape, starting with the moment she'd knocked at Paul's door. Only in her fantasy, he'd been home...he'd opened the door with a smile and invited her in. They'd snuggled on the couch together as was their habit, stretched out lengthwise, Paul behind Brenda with his arm wrapped around her as they watched one film or another. Their friendship had always been solid enough that they cuddled like that without giving it a second thought.

However, in her fantasy...this time, Paul's hands wandered over her instead of resting platonically over hers. Brenda began touching herself...tentatively at first...then with greater abandon as she envisioned a very erotic, sensual seduction with Paul. She teased her nipples with her fingertips as she imagined him feeling her up...first over her shirt...then beneath it...skin on skin. Soon, her hand was sneaking down beneath the waistband of her pajama bottoms, settling at the crux of her thighs to toy with her straining, eager nubbin.

After a long, delicious build-up, and a fantasy woven of life-long memories, budding desire and missed opportunity, Brenda did something she'd never done before.

She brought herself to orgasm, thinking about Paul.

Then...when the euphoria slowly subsided...she rolled on her side, curled up in a fetal position, and wished he was there.

But the fantasy lingered with her through the next day. It left her preoccupied, even when she met Jason for their study date. And a little irritable.

They were seated at a curved, corner booth back in the diner, side-by-side, their textbooks out on the table.

"Okay...this is one of the things I have trouble with," Brenda was saying as she flipped to a section on circles and trigonometry. Her attention was focused on the equations on the page, when she felt Jason's arm settle around her shoulder.

"Yeah, me too," Jason agreed, somewhat distracted, as if he weren't really paying attention.

Brenda shifted her gaze from the textbook to Jason, narrowing her eyes impatiently and shrugging her shoulder in an effort to dislodge his arm.

"Hey....you've got a little hot chocolate on your lip," Jason remarked, reaching up to wipe the alleged smudge away with his finger.

Her lips burned when he stroked them -- but not in a good way. Where she always felt completely at ease with Paul's affectionate touches, Brenda found Jason's casual overtures overbearing. It made her uncomfortable and she shrunk away from him, shrugging her shoulder even more obviously, hoping he'd get the hint.

Jason's arm stayed put, as if it had been surgically attached to her shoulder.

"Can we focus on the math?" Brenda prompted, in a tone of voice that Paul would easily have recognized as Brenda's pissed-off voice -- but which Jason didn't clue into at all.

"Sure, no problem," Jason agreed blithely...his lack of concern making it more and more obvious to Brenda that he wasn't paying attention at all. "Hey....would you like to go to the football game next weekend?"

Brenda stared at him incredulously for a full minute. What kind of self-absorbed jerk was this guy? Football game?

She hated football.

Sighing in exasperation, Brenda finally resorted to outright physical expression of her displeasure. She picked Jason's arm up and moved it off her shoulder, then slid out from the booth to stand, glaring, at Mr. Wandering Hands.

Wandering hands were a lot less welcome when they weren't Paul's...

"I'm going to the restroom," she announced flatly. "Why don't you come up with some ideas about how we can remember this before the exam."

As she stomped off to the ladies' room in a huff, Brenda was convinced that Jason was the most exasperating guy she'd ever met. But if she thought her mood was soured over his behavior....she had nothing on Paul.

Who had caught a brief glimpse of the two of them through the window, seemingly huddled together in a cozy, romantic "study" date, as he'd passed by on his way home.

 

[Rhovan]

Paul Knight

Paul woke in the early morning, having fallen asleep on his couch, but not really managing to come to terms with anything the night before. At first, he couldn't think because his world was rapidly shrinking to encompass only his acheing cock and balls. He'd been walking around with an erection pretty much all day, and it made him sort of nervous. Here he was, lusting after Brenda, and that was the last thing he should be doing. It'd be like lusting after his sister...but that thought didn't disuade his eagerness. When he had gotten home from the student union on the abortive mission to find Brenda to spend time with her, he had tried to think about what was going on in his mind. But he just kept going back to the image of his finger in her mouth...wondering what it would be like... If instead of his finger in her mouth, it had been his cock.

Paul didn't want these thoughts. They didn't mess with his comfortable idea of Brenda, but at the same time, they were so strong he had to give heed to them. He hauled himself up from his couch and went over to his computer. He had intended to fire it up and go surf some innocious porn, maybe something a little extreme to knock Brenda from his mind. He found himself flashing through pictures, ignoring the blondes and the brunettes. Instead he was pulling up pictures of auburn haired women, over and over again, only to close them because something about them just wasn't right. He knew unconciously what he was looking for, but he refused to think about it. Then suddenly he wasn't browsing the internet anymore, but his own personal files. Scouring the porn he kept because he liked it more than average for some reason or another, but soon he had worked through all of that too.

Then he found something he liked, something that his cock immediatly twitched and throbbed too. Digital pictures of Brenda, from across the recent years in college, when Paul had been on a photography kick. Pictures of Brenda just woken up by the sudden flash, pictures of Brenda crossing the street and the light had hit just so, pictures of Brenda in her bathing suit. Suddenly Paul wasn't browsing anymore, he was fixated on a picture of Brenda in her bathing suit, bent half over to lift her towel from where she had set it. It was far from the usual smut Paul pleasured himself too, it was pretty demure and tame in fact. But Paul couldn't remember the last time he had been so aroused. It didn't make sense, but Paul wasn't thinking about it anymore, he was doing what his body demanded he do after walking around aroused all day.

Pauls fist moved up and down his length quickly as his left hand gently cupped his balls. Groaning softly, feeling his legs straighten in front of himself, forcing his chair back some from the desk. The orgasm struck suddenly, and Paul didn't have time to grab a tissue, not that he was even thinking about that, so absorbed in the picture of Brenda. His growled softly, at the sudden and powerful release, his cock throbbing in his now still hand as his cum shot straight up in long white strands. It splattered just about everyone, on his shirt, on his open pants, across the desk, one short strand hit the screen, just a little higher than the crotch of Brenda's swim suit. Paul relaxed backward in the chair, the tension draining from his body as it calmed following his orgasm. He quietly closed the picture viewer, wiped up his cum as best he could and went back to the couch. He stripped down to his boxers and tossed the clothes in a pile under the table and went to sleep, assuming he had put the issue behind himself.

And he had, he got up in the morning a little stiff from sleeping on the couch for reasons he didn't really understand, and his clothes would need to be pre-treated next time he took them too the laundry mat, but he didn't care, because he could think about Brenda without a sudden and instant erection. Granted, he couldn't think about her for long and avoid arousal, but passing thoughts of her no longer blasted everything else from his mind. His morning went well, getting his clothing washed and even got the stains out. He had a lazy brunch at the local Micky D's, and was on his way home, bag of laundry on his shoulder when he spotted Brenda through the window of their diner. He thought he'd go in, and apologize for not going to the movie with her last night. He took a step towards the door, and then he saw an arm move through the window.

"Odd...Brenda seems to have grown another arm," Paul said softly. He honestly hadn't thought of any other possibility at that moment. Paul moved closer, quicker than he had intended and got there just in time so see Jason's finger brush gently across Brenda's cheek. She shuddered slightly under the touch, her cheeks turning red in the look that usually said that she had just been embarrassed, but in a good way. Paul had enough, he swallowed hard around a sudden immovable lump in his throat, spun around on his heel and marching himself to his apartment, never bothering to look over his shoulder at the fun Brenda and Jason were having.

Unfortunatly, had he looked, he would have seen that fun was not the term to discribe the situation in the booth at the back of their diner.

Paul suddenly felt like his heart had been torn clean from his chest and was currently being used as an elbow rest by Jason. His head spun and he half stumbled, half shuffled his way back to his apartment. "But she said she just met Jason..." Paul muttered to himself as he moved along, barely aware enough to keep track of his sack of laundry. He climbed the stairs into his building, then entered his apartment and shut the door. The bag hit the ground, followed by Paul stepping out of his shoes as he walked towards the couch. But he ignored the couch; the couch where Brenda and himself had sat and watched literally hundreds of movies together. The couch had been with him nearly as long as she had. His parents wanted to throw it away when they bought a new one, but Paul snatched it up and moved it to his place.

It was the couch where Brenda cried with him when her dog died. It had been the couch where Paul explained his first kiss to Brenda. It'd been his bed on many an occasion, sometimes when he was too tired to get to his bed, or on the nights when Brenda slept over and he insisted on her taking the bed. It was also the most painful reminder of what he had suddenly lost. He didn't even look at the couch as he moved by to his room. He slammed the door shut behind him, and he sat on his bed.

He didn't know when he started to cry, because he only relised it when the tears started to roll down his neck. He didn't sob, as he was already resigned to the fact that Brenda loved someone else. She never moved that fast with anyone, ever. So she had to be in love. Paul cried because he wasn't that someone she loved. Paul cried because he didn't know exactly why he needed to be that someone all of a sudden. Somewhere in his silent stream of tears, Paul laid out on his back, and then he fell asleep. He slept through the afternoon, the night and the early part of the next day, missing his first class. Calculus, the only class he shared with Brenda...a class he shared with Jason.

Paul got up and showered, trying to straighten out his puffy face as best he could. He did a fairly good job, though anyone who looked at him knew he'd have been crying. But Paul steeled his resolve and went to his next class. Five minutes late, but Paul didn't even think about it. He didn't care that he was late, and his general attitude of ambivalence towards everything was painfully obvious. So obvious, that when his class ended and he went to make his way out, a particular fresh man spotted him in the halls.

"Hey Paul, How's it....oh my....what's wrong?" She asked, concern apparent in her voice. It wouldn't do to have her crush being emotionally distraught, and she thought perhaps she could make this work to her advantage.

"What? Oh...no, nothing's wrong. Just a little emotional this morning....oah!" He grunted softly when she suddenly stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, forcing him back a step. His arms automatically wrapped around her to balance the pair of them, as she had lifted a foot from the floor. Paul was mightily confused, but the freshman had this little maneuver planned.

Paul was facing away from the length of the hall, looking at the exit as his next class was in another building. He never saw Brenda walk into the building from the opposite side, but Brenda saw the freshman girl, and Paul's back. A back she knew as well as the tops of her feet, having watched it grow from a chubby kid, to a gangly adolescent and now to the filled out frame of Paul. Brenda also saw the hug the girl put on Paul, and his return hug. Then the girl waved to Brenda and lifted her foot, burying her face in Paul's neck. She waved to Brenda, because she had made it her mission to end the Paul/Brenda situation as Jill had described it to her. She was a woman on a mission.

"Hey...ahh...thanks for the concern but I gotta go...sorry." Paul broke free and left for his next class, wondering why women had gone insane suddenly. But Brenda didn't see or hear that part...

 

[Arioso]

Brenda stood rooted to the floor and thought absently that this was what a heart-attack felt like. People were moving around her like phantoms; there, but not really registering with her. Their voices were a dull murmur in her ears. All she was aware of was the pain in her chest, her complete inability to breathe, and the sight that greeted her eyes from scarcely a dozen yards away.

Paul...with that freshman girl from the party that Jill had been telling her about. The one who had been asking around about Paul...seeming interested. What was her name? Tiffany? Bethany?

Something like that.

Whoever she was, she waved at Brenda before burying her face in Paul's neck...very intimately.

That snapped Brenda out of her paralysis. Numbly, she turned and left the building.

She'd wondered what had happened to Paul. He hadn't called her on Sunday, nor had he shown up for their Calculus class. Paul wasn't usually one to skip his classes. Brenda's first thought had been that he was sick.

A different explanation was rapidly, painfully, forming in her mind.

Maybe he and Daphne had hit it off after all.

Brenda walked across campus toward her dorm, her eyes stinging with unshed tears that she viciously held back in a dogged refusal to vent her emotions in public. She'd long had a talent for bottling up her feelings; only Paul had ever been able to see through her quiet, seemingly calm exterior to know the raging storm beneath the surface. But he wasn't around at the moment.

He was hugging Brittney.

Or whatever her name was.

By the time Brenda had made it back to her room, she'd accomplished her usual strategy: like a mistress of denial, she'd bottled up the hurt, examined the situation rationally (or so she tried to convince herself), and inwardly scolded herself for getting upset when she had no right to be.

This was what she got for waiting around until it was too late. After all, she'd had a full fifteen years to make her bid for him. Well, okay, maybe a full five years, given that grade school couldn't really be counted as prime dating years. Still, she'd taken him for granted. And probably made it clear to him that she'd never see him as anything but a friend. So now, she just had to deal with the consequences. There were obviously plenty of other women out there who thought he was desirable. She'd missed her chance, at least for the moment.

Sniffling and wiping her nose with the back of her hand, Brenda squared off in front of the mirror, trying to psyche herself up to accept that cold, severe reality. Her strategies were weakening, though. This time, her emotions rebelled...they didn't want to get shoved in the bottle, and they weren't going quietly.

It took her a good thirty minutes of jaw clenching and deep breaths to get herself anywhere near stable. But she didn't feel calm or resigned. She felt dead inside.

When she finally felt capable of seeing him without dissolving into a blubbering basketcase, Brenda slung her backpack over her shoulder and walked over to Paul's apartment. She'd just have to go about her life as if everything were normal. He was still her best friend. She didn't want to lose that, even if she'd have to start taking a back seat to Josephine.

Or whatever her name was.

It was the same door she'd knocked on last night, but the mood was so different. She awaited Paul's appearance not with the giddy, hopeful shivers she'd felt the other evening, but with resignation. And this time, he opened the door.

They looked at each other awkwardly for a split-second, which was downright unnatural for them.

"Hi," Brenda managed weakly.

"Hi," Paul's reply was equally hesitant.

Rummaging in her backpack, her auburn hair fanning down over her face in silky strands, she pulled out a set of narrow-ruled sheets covered in her neat, if quirky, script and explained, "I didn't see you in Calculus today. I figured, with the exam coming up, you might want the notes. Not that I'm a whiz at math or anything, but...um...here."

She held her notes out to him like an olive branch, although she knew that any thoughts of needing to make peace with him were purely in her mind. Paul didn't know she was jealous. How could he?

Slowly, he reached out and took them from her. For some reason Brenda couldn't quite understand, he seemed a little uncertain. "Thanks."

It suddenly hit her. What if...maybe he did worry she was jealous? Paul being the nice guy that he was...maybe he was concerned that she'd feel neglected, now that he had a new girlfriend. Brenda immediately felt guilty and resolved to do her best to make him feel like they were as good friends as they'd always been.

"So, I don't want to keep you if you're busy tonight." Yeah, busy with Stephanie. "I just wanted to check on you and make sure you were okay. I was wondering if I'd have to make you some chicken soup."

That got a slight grin and a brief, sighing chuckle, although Paul looked down at his feet rather than at her. Brenda waited for a moment...or two....or three... Then, figuring that maybe she should just be somewhere else and leave Paul to whatever it was he had going on, she started to turn away.

"I wasn't really doing anything tonight. You want to come in? We could make dinner."

At the soft, low sound of his voice, Brenda turned back, this time to see his eyes raised to hers. Her heart melted.

Offering him a genuine smile that was fueled by relief and a depth of affection that rattled her to her core, Brenda nodded and agreed, "Sure. I'd love it...maestro chef."

It was a nickname she'd given him the first time they'd attempted working together in a kitchen, and discovered that they were both very stubborn, uncompromising Alpha Chefs. Most of the bickering had been all in good fun, though, and for the first time since she'd seen Paul hugging Bitsy Boopsie Freshman Doll, Brenda felt...okay.

If she still got to make a mess in the kitchen with him, watch sappy movies with him, and just have him in her life, well...she'd take it. It was a bittersweet consolation, but a consolation nonetheless.

As she stepped across the threshold into Paul's apartment, however, her rebellious heart was screaming in defiance of her iron-willed stoicism: It's not enough!

Not when you're in love with him.

 

[Arioso]

Ignore. Just a test.

 

[Rhovan]

Paul Knight

"Hi." She seemed uncertain. Of course she was uncertain, she was hiding a boyfriend from Paul. She didn't know how much he knew, and thus she was hesitant, cautious.

"Hi." Was all he could get out. It hurt, they obviously were sitting on a rough patch but they couldn't move off of it until Brenda would fess up about her sudden and whirlwind relationship with Jason. Paul couldn't understand why she hadn't spilled everything over him, she always did. Usually she was dishing out what she knew before she had even been asked out. She always wanted Paul's opinion, and then she made him check her out before she went out to make sure she looked good, as she was perpetually unsure of her beauty. Paul never understood that, Brenda being the singular most attractive woman he had ever laid eyes upon, and he had the privlage of being her friend! And her best one at that!

"I didn't see you in Calculus today. I figured, with the exam coming up, you might want the notes. Not that I'm a whiz at math or anything, but...um...here."

"No doubt it was a compilation of her's and Jason's work," Paul thought bitterly. He saw her hand extend slowly, and he reached out just as slowly. As if his accepting of this book would justify her relationship. But he took it anyhow, needing the notes and not wanting Brenda to think he had given up on her.

"Thanks." It felt wrong. His mind rebelled from it, this wasn't how Paul and Brenda acted around Paul and Brenda. This was like, two strangers, not the two greatest friends to grace this campus in at least a score of years.

"So, I don't want to keep you if you're busy tonight. I just wanted to check on you and make sure you were okay. I was wondering if I'd have to make you some chicken soup." Paul smiled, this was the Brenda he knew and loved. The Brenda of the last 15 years of his...their life together. Happy days, sad days, awful days. Everything they shared. Paul laughed softly, but couldn't bring his eyes from his feet. She should be at Jason's...he was interferring in their relationship. But he couldn't let her leave, and when she turned, he blurted out his real intentions, what he wanted to ask her as his mind wasn't going fast enough to come up with anything else.

"I wasn't really doing anything tonight. You want to come in? We could make dinner."

She had turned away, he could only see the sliver of her cheek, and he desperatly wanted her to come back. Back to him and not Jason who was so very wrong for her. The Jason who planned only on trying to sleep with her and leave. The Jason that didn't care about Brenda a tenth as much as Paul did. And she turned, slowly, their eyes connecting over the door mat and it almost seemed like a week ago, when he would have reached out and tousled her hair because he loved how she fussed over it once he had done that.

"Sure. I'd love it...maestro chef."

Paul stepped to the side, pulling the door open all the way. Watching Brenda walk into his apartment, he shut the door and placing her folder on the table, he moved into the kitchen and threw open his pantry. Digging for a moment he turned around and set a jar of Prego down on the counter, looking over the top of it with a defiant stare at Brenda. "How about pasta?" He saw the fight flare up in her eyes. It was an old fight, one they kept around because it worked off tensions and prevented the real knock down drag out fights that any relationship would eventually have. It was 'their' fight, as it were.

"Oh no. You know if we're have pasta I'm making sauce from scratch." She had placed her bag on the counter, and started to roll up her sleeves.

"What if I told you I didn't have any tomatos?" Paul asked, trying to trip her up, force her to go with the canned pasta sauce.

"I'd call you a bad liar," Brenda said, while at the same time pointing to a trio of tomatos Paul had in the window sill, ripening quite nicely.

Squinting his eyes at her some, "Well...in that case...I'll cook the garlic bread and boil the pasta...you make the sauce." It was the usual stand off, and the unspoken start of their race. They both went into a flurry of action that looked more like a complicated choreographed dance than a race to cook. Paul went to the pantry, Brenda snatched up a knife, Paul tossed a box of pasta to the counter, Brenda crossed to the window. Soon, the water was burbling and the pasta was tossed in, quite literally, as Paul took every short cut he could. Brenda was mixing and adding ingrediants similar to a mad scientist trying to create life. Soon, the bread was cooked, some salads were thrown together and they both had heaping bowls of pasta covered in Brenda amazing home made sauce. Paul hoped Brenda never caved in on their fight, because then he'd have to ask her to make the sauce he so dearly loved.

They sat around at the table, and had a nice meal. It was if all their previous tensions were gone. They were happy to be in the other's presense. They chatted about the day's class, Brenda breifly went over the class Paul missed, they spoke about everything. Except for Jason and the freshman girl. Curiously, the converstation just wove around those topics, dodging away when either person got to close, and they were happy to let it do that. They talked and talked like they were known for doing, the converstation causually drifting from topic to topic with no real sense of direction nor any need of it. They were comfortable enough again, that when the converstation died, the silence wasn't akward.

Then they relised that they had been cooking and eating and talking for several hours. Making a command judgement, that was always made, Paul decided the cleaning up could wait for the morning, so they wrapped up the left overs, stuffed them in the fridge and went out to the living room. To watch a movie like they had every time they ate dinner together. It was just how they did things together. They each topped off their drinks, and headed out to the living room.

"What are we going to watch tonight?" Brenda asked, having no particular movie in mind.

"I was thinking we could go with an oldy but a goody...Alien, the original!" Paul waved his free hand about, and made a hissing noise as if he were the alien himself. Brenda laughed and slapped his arm playfully as he went to the tv and set it up to play, watching the intial FBI warning play across the TV. Paul crossed back to the couch and laid himself out, setting his drink on the end table over his head, and before he even thought to stop himself, he patted the couch in front of himself, calling Brenda over to the spot she always took. Paul shut his eyes for a moment, mentally berating himself for being so damned foolish. His head was on the arm rest, and he dropped his arm to the cushion to push himself up when Brenda's head landed on it. Her feet stretching out and she was laying right in front of him, as she always did, her head pillowed on his arm. Paul wanted to say something, to apologize and stammer something about Jason. He didn't.

Paul got side tracked. He inhaled, and he got her scent. Woodsy, clean, feminine, smelling softly of shampoo and a hint of jasmine...just...Brenda. It was a smell that was ingrained on Paul's soul. He was figured he could follow her like a blood hound if he needed too. He had smelled this smell for 15 years, and nearly every day. And it never had this effect on him before. He immediatly got hard. His cock was straining to bursting in his pants. And he was painfully aware of how close to Brenda's ass his cock really was. Very close.

And he could no longer speak, Jason be damned, Brenda was his first and it would be a cold day in hell when Paul let her fall prey to someone like him. Paul opened his mouth to speak, but he was silenced by Brenda again, but in a totally different way.

"Don't scare me Paul," Brenda said, which was her customary warning that if Paul did anything like that she would kick his ass around the room. Then her hand came over her side, grabbed Paul's free hand and pulled it over her hip and around in front of her, so she could keep tabs on it. And Paul, working off of years of instinct did what he always did, he hooked his hand under her waist and pulled her in tight to his chest. Paul silently cursed himself, his erection now pressing hard into Brenda's ass. He wanted to scream at his own stupidity, but she didn't laugh or pull away so maybe she hadn't noticed.

Paul lay behind Brenda, on the couch, the movie playing in front of him virtually ignored, his mind focused on the smell of Brenda's hair, the weight of her head on his arm, his arm around her hips and holding her side lightly, and of course, his painfully hard erection pressed tight into her rump. Paul didn't know what to do. Kiss her, scream, cry, or just run away. So he stayed there, nearly afraid to breath, but he continued too because of her smell...he was caught.

 

[Arioso]

It had felt so good to fall into their familiar routine in the kitchen. Brenda could console herself with the thought that this, at least, was something she had with Paul that Little Miss Freshman didn't have. Plus, there was the fact that doing something they'd done together for ages seemed to ease the tension between them -- like finding the path again after getting lost in the brambles.

Paul, of course, turned it into a race, as he always did. Brenda had told him once that she liked taking her time -- chopping vegetables could be a really Zen activity, if you let yourself get into it. And on some level, he got that -- if anything, because he knew it mattered to her. But some mischievous impulse in him always seemed to want to bait her a little.

Oddly enough...Brenda kind of liked it when he baited her. Her pulse never raced so quickly, she never felt quite so alive, as when Paul was really trying to get her goat.

At dinner, they sat side-by-side and went over Brenda's calculus notes. She needn't have worried about Paul: even having missed a class, he still caught an error in her notes. When he pointed it out to her, in his usual, good-natured, teasing way, she stuck out her tongue and shoved a piece of garlic bread in his mouth. He feigned surprise, but he'd seen it coming. And for just a moment, their gazes locked in devilish merriment. Jason and the fresman were forgotten in that brief instant, and it was just Paul and Brenda again.

Sadly, however, the tension still lurked beneath the surface, eating slowly away at Brenda's heart.

She knew her heart was still functional, though, because when they flopped on the couch to watch a movie, as they were wont to do, her heartbeat started doing double time. Shoot, it was doing a command performance of the cha-cha, with a little roller-coaster 'yaaa-iiiiieeeee' thrown in for good measure.

"Don't scare me, Paul," she'd warned as they settled in. When they were kids, he used to get a kick out of poking her suddenly at a really tense moment in a scary movie. Back when she had a really, really girly squeal. So, she'd taken to pinning his arm against her waist where she could keep track of it.

Only...

...she hadn't expected...that was...she didn't realize...

Well, either it had happened before and she just hadn't noticed, or for the first time ever, Paul had a hard-on. And over Alien? Brenda might have understood it if it had been a romantic movie, or an action flick with a "sexy chick", as he called them. But now, Brenda couldn't concentrate on anything else.

It struck her that they were in a very intimate position. Funny. This was how they'd always watched movies together...and it was only now that she really had no chance with him that Brenda was appreciating just how...close they got. She let out a soft sigh and shivered at the feel of his hardness pressed against her ass.

"Cold?" Paul's breath ghosted softly across her ear, making her shiver -- although not from a chill. Indeed, the heat of his breath on her neck ignited her entire body and set delicious flickers of warmth all through her sex. God, her nipples were even hard.

Brenda closed her eyes and stifled a moan. Swallowing, she murmured shakily, "Yeah...maybe a little bit."

Paul shifted a little to pull the blanket that was folded neatly over the back of the couch down over them. Brenda could easily have moved herself so that she wouldn't be in contact with Paul's groin any more, but she realized she didn't want to.

God! How pathetic am I? When I'm so desperate for anything from Paul, that I want to feel the boner he's got for someone else?

But indulge herself, she did. Once Paul had tucked the blanket around them, Brenda not only snuggled back into him, she actually rubbed her ass very lightly against his fabric-covered erection. Not blatantly...it could be taken as unintentional...maybe...but the sensations were unmistakeable. Brenda felt Paul tense and rock his hips slightly against her, as if he hadn't been able to stop himself but was struggling for even a shred of restraint. Instantly, Brenda felt guilty. She shouldn't be playing games with him -- especially not now that he was dating someone. Someone who wasn't her.

At least...he seemed to be.

As the movie wore on, though, the games continued. And Brenda wasn't sure...but she didn't think it was all one-sided. Without really acknowledging what they were doing, as if it were all some make-believe fun that would vanish like a shadow once the lights came back on, Paul and Brenda engaged in some very erotic, illicit touches.

Touches that might have been innocent, but weren't.

It started small. Brenda idly traced her fingertips over the back of Paul's hand where it rested against her belly. Of course, she'd done it before a thousand times, but now, the mood just seemed different. She could almost feel Paul's breath getting shakier, more urgent. When she laid her palm flat over his hand and intertwined her fingers with his, he gave her a firm, welcoming squeeze. A very happy squeeze. They slid their fingers together, in and out, for a few moments, mimicking an act that they both so desperately wanted to do, but which seemed beyond all hope to their misguided minds.

Toward the middle of the movie, Paul's arm started to fall asleep. Not surprising, given that Brenda had been resting her head on it. As they wiggled to rearrange themselves yet again, the arm that Paul had draped over Brenda brushed against her breast, grazing the straining, bullet-hard nipple. Brenda bit her lip as the warm frisson of pleasure shot through her.

A few moments later, under the pretext of tucking the blanket more snugly around them, Paul's hand skimmed over her breast again. Brenda's stiffened peak was only too glad for the attention, although Brenda herself felt even guiltier that she was getting off on these accidental touches.

Still, Paul didn't seem to notice. Or if he did notice, he didn't seem to mind. And as the movie played on, their furtive touches continued. Predictably, Paul had to try to scare her just once, but to Brenda's unspoken delight, afterward, he soothed her with a tender kiss to the top of her head and caresses that felt almost like those of a lover. To the point that Brenda's attention was no longer on the tv screen, but on her own rapt wonder at what was happening on the couch. Was something going to...were they...?

Somehow, Brenda blinked and the film was over. Reluctantly, she began to sit up so Paul could rewind the tape. She twisted herself to look at him, curious to see if his face were as flushed as hers after their unusually intimate cuddling. What she saw in the dim, flickering light of the tv set took her breath away. Paul's face, his eyes, held all of the turbulent emotion she felt and more. The air between them seemed charged. Brenda found herself leaning toward him, irresistibly drawn toward his mouth.

She didn't think about the freshman or about the fact that this was Paul, her friend. All that crossed her mind was that his lips were so very alluring and she'd been aching to taste them for days, it seemed.

It didn't even really dawn on her that he wasn't recoiling, that he didn't look shocked or disturbed at all. If she'd been able to focus on anything other than his mouth, she might have noticed that he was leaning up to meet her.

At the most inopportune moment, the door to Paul's apartment slammed open. The bright light from the corridor sliced into the intimate darkness, cutting between Paul and Brenda almost brutally. The effect was immediate: Brenda practically leaped toward the opposite end of the couch, almost falling off the edge because of the tangle of blankets. She was mortified! She'd nearly mauled her best friend. Stupid, stupid!

"OowheyPaulheyBrenna..." Steve greeted loudly as he staggered into the apartment. He looked, to use Paul's favorite phrase for him, too drunk to fish. "Man, youshoulda see'me shoo' pool t'night. I's a real shar...I meanashark...tha' is, until I start'd losing..."

Paul got up and shut the door behind his roommate, who was too drunk to realize he'd left it wide open. Steve was a nice enough guy, but he really didn't know his limits.

Meanwhile, Brenda shrank back against the couch, inwardly berating herself and almost glad that Paul would be occupied with a very familiar routine for a while. As he'd done several times before, he hauled Steve into the kitchen and cajoled him to drink several glasses of water, before maneuvering his wobbly, weaving roommate down the hall to make sure that when Steve fell face forward, he at least landed on his bed.

Brenda wondered how she would possibly explain herself to Paul. She'd been...god, she'd been worse than a floozy! Grinding her ass against him, groping him...nearly kissing him. She just wished she could disappear. However, as it was late, her body took charge and did the next best thing. As she lay agonizing over her foolish actions, her eyes grew heavier and heavier. Without marking the transition from waking to sleeping, Brenda slowly drifted off.

She dreamed of Paul. Sweet, sensual dreams, filled with sensations of being held in his arms and feeling his lips against her forehead. As often happens in dreams, Brenda desperately wanted to tell him not to go, wanted to tilt her head up to kiss him back. But something weighted her down...she felt heavy... groggy...unable to move....not realizing that she was sound asleep and dreaming.

When she awoke in the morning, she was a little disoriented to find herself comfortably tucked into Paul's bed.

 

[Rhovan]

Paul Knight

Paul didn't know how they had come to be laying on the couch in his house. Well, he did know, he just didn't know how they managed it with all the things that were running through his mind. She liked Jason, and here Paul was, coercing her into an uncomfortable situation. Laying in front of him, holding her back against his erection. He didn't want to say anything, because she might not have noticed it. Course, if he did say something, she'd know he was doing it on purpose. How could he explain it? She was dating Jason and she was just trying to be friends with Paul, yet Paul had her crammed up tight to his erection. Then she trembled for a moment. It was during a lull in the action, so Paul knew she was hating her position but to afraid to do anything about it. So Paul offered them both a way out.

"Cold?" He asked, suddenly very thankful that Brenda had talked him into keeping a blanket on the back of the couch in a decorative way that could be used for someone laying there too. "Yeah...maybe a little bit." So Paul moved his hips just a bit, freeing his erection from her left cheek, his hand grabbed the blanket, pulling it down over the pair of them, they both shuffled about for a moment, and then they lay still again. The out that Paul had offered them both? Neither of them took it. Paul cursed himself, as he felt his hips move just a bit to rub himself on her ass lightly, he could feel her moving too, as if she was trying to escape it. He cursed himself, but he didn't stop right away. This would probably be his only chance to be near Brenda like this. The woman he had suddenly come to relise was the woman he loved. Probably the only woman he would love, ever. But after only a moment or two, Paul forced himself to stop moving, shuddering a bit. She was dating Jason, and she had never shown anything but friendship to Paul, so she was obviously not interested and Paul needed to stop. Stopping was the single hardest thing he had ever done in his life.

Paul's hand had gone back around Brenda's waist once he had arranged the blanket round them both. He didn't know how it got there, it just was there, and her hand was resting on the back of his, her arm on top of his. From the looks of it, it was exactly how they spent every movie night, just together, watching flicks and joking about the movies. But tonight, they were only half watching, though either of them could quote the whole movie, and neither of them were joking. Then one of Brenda's fingers moved, and Paul tensed for a moment. But the finger didn't cease it's motion, dragging small and lazy circles across the back of Paul's hand, following the tendons and the lines of the veins beneath the skin. Brenda had always done that, she loved Paul's hands. The calluses at the base of his fingers, the line of a couple scars he had gathered through life, the bugle of his knuckles and the soft hair on the back of his hand. She had always toyed with it, claiming his hand was so different from hers. Not to mention the fact that it was much larger. She particuarly liked to tease him about the hair that grew out past the second knuckle, showing her own hand to ask why she couldn't have some there herself. He always hated it, she told him it gave him character. But then her finger tips left the back of Paul's hand, and he wasn't sure if he should sigh in releif or frustration. Either would be appropraite, just the first was what his mind wanted, and the second was what his cock wanted. Though his cock was a bit biased being pressed up tight against her rear.

But the state of uncertainly quickly disappeared as her finger lined up between his own, then curled under to hook into his palm, his over fingers closing over hers as they suddenly held hands. He squeezed her hand softly, this was safe, they always held hands, and it kept him from flipping her onto her back, holding her down and kissing her, right there, as Riply ran for her life on the screen in the background. But instead, they just moved their hands together, which he attributed it to her nervousness, she always got nervous during this part of the movie. Though it was a pointed reminder of his other plan, which was what he wanted to do, but was afraid to do. Not only would he have taken advantage of his friendship with Brenda, but then he'd have to deal with Jason as well.

Thankfully, Paul had to break the moment. "Ahh...Brenda?"

"Huh?" She didn't move, her hand still clutching his tight.

"I can't feel my arm..." Brenda laughed, and Paul extracted his hand from hers. But both of them seemed hesitant to move. Paul didn't hesitate for too long though, needing the flow of blood to be restored to his arm. So he hooked his arm around her chest and lifted her top half up off of the couch, his left arm moving up and over his head, folding back towards his opposite shoulder at the elbow, before Paul lowered her chest to the couch again. "Were her nipples hard?" Paul thought to himself as he pulled his arm out from under her chest and laid it back around her waist. He wasn't sure, but if her nipples were hard, then she was obviously aware of his cock pressing hard into her rump. "If she knew...but didn't say anything," Paul didn't dare to hope that his thoughts were true. Her nipples wern't hard, and she hadn't noticed his cock behind her. Or if they were hard, it was from the cold. So Paul set out to see if her nipples were or wern't hard. He couldn't just lift up and look over her, so he adjusted the blanket. His hand brushing lightly against the front of her breast, and she just laid there, unaware of Paul's movements.

After several attempts to decern if her nipples were hard or not, Paul decided to scare her. As if it was his intention all along, besides, he always scared her. He waited, the section of the movie that he would think she would expect him to scare her on but she always seemed geniunely frightened at. On the scene came and Paul poked Brenda hard in the side, to be rewarded with a shriek and a flurry of blows from her higher arm against his side and arm. He could tell she was breathing, hard, but that was from the sudden scare. He felt odd about doing that to her, to hide the fact that he had been touching her nipples on purpose. So he leaned forward, kissed the top of her head and slid his hand down her side, starting level with her breasts, down her side to the dip of her waist and up onto the swell of her hip, letting his hand rest there. He felt her shiver, so he brought the blanket back over them, his hand once again resting on her thigh.

Then the film was over. For a moment, nobody moved, then Brenda pushed am arm under her to sit up, the sudden shifting making Paul even more aware of his erection pressed into her. She turned, looking back at him and he swallowed, assuming he was about to get told off for either scareing her, or holding her back against him so he could grind his erection into her. But she wasn't, she just hung there, desire and confusion warring in her eyes, in the way her lips set just so. The lighting was awful, but it was perfect at the same moment. Just what light came from the screen as the credits rolled their way to eternity, as Paul slowly leaned up and forward, desperate to kiss Brenda's lips. To kiss her as more than a friend, before he lost her to Jason. She hung there, almost like a deer in the headlights, unable to move, maybe not wanting to move. Paul didn't know, but he continued forward, until the front door slammed open. That wasn't what stopped Paul's movement, what stopped it was the sudden widening of Brenda's eyes and her throwing herself backwards along the couch, nearly clearing the arm in her desperation to get away from him. Away from Paul.

Paul felt crushed, he had made his move and he was obviously shot down. His one shot to kiss her, and she didn't want it. "She didn't have to be so rude," Paul thought to himself as he forced his face blank and stood from the couch, to get Steve who was blundering drunkenly down the hallway.

"OowheyPaulheyBrenna...Man, youshoulda see'me shoo' pool t'night. I's a real shar...I meanashark...tha' is, until I start'd losing..."

Paul lost himself in the taking care of Steve. He couldn't let his mind stay on the look that was on Brenda's face. A look of momentary revulsion, then fear and uncertainty. The look that had very nearly stopped Paul's heart with pain. He shut the door, and walked Steve into his room, keeping him from running into the door jamb or falling down in the hallway. Paul got Steve to drink a good deal of water, to try and prevent the most likely inevitable hang over the poor guy would have, then got him into bed, pulling the shoes from his feet, and flicking the lights off in Steve's room. When he came back into the living room, he saw Brenda, she was asleep, curled up into the corner of the couch she had recoiled into, a peacful look on her face. Paul stood there for many long moments, staring at Brenda, trying to ward off the emotions he had running through his head. The look on her face was killing him however, he didn't know if he could stand it. If he saw that look again, he knew it would kill him as surely as any bullet would.

But Paul couldn't contiue to agonize over her look at him, he knew she wouldn't be happy if she woke up having slept all night with her legs tucked under her and sitting upright. It would ruin her neck and back for days, and that was the last thing she needed as she headed into her 20th birthday. So Paul moved quietly to her, and lifted her into his arms. He walked them both down the hall, holding her around the shoulders and under the knees, her one arm up on his shoulder, her other arm hanging under her. He moved her gently to his bed, pulling the sheets down and laying her out on her back. He removed her shoes and socks, pulled her belt off and made sure her pockets were empty before pulling the sheet up to her neck and walking out of the room, all of her removed items tucked into her shoe.

Paul didn't think about what had happened. He simply walked back out to the front door, checked to make sure it was locked, kicked his shoes into the corner there and returned to the couch. He shut off the TV, stretched out and went to sleep. He couldn't put Brenda's look out of his mind however, and he slept far from peacfully. The couch wasn't the best for sleeping on, and that was why he always moved Brenda to his bed, but usually he could manage, it was the dreams that were really getting to him. Coy touches, shy looks, near kisses and then sudden changes in her attitude. It didn't make for a good nights rest.

Paul was up at the crack of dawn, knowing he wasn't going to get anymore sleep today. So he went into the kitchen and made breakfast. Eggs, toast, some orange juice and some microwaved sausage made the meal, and he made enough for three, seperating it out onto plates and putting one plate into the frige for his Steve, whenever he woke up and placing the other plate on the other side of the table for Brenda. They had class at seven, and it was just about rolling over to 6 when Paul heard his alarm go off. He had assumed he was spending the night alone, and hadn't turned the alarm off when he put Brenda in his bed. A moment later the alarm was off, and then a minute or two after that Brenda made her way into the kitchen, shuffling her feet, rubbing her eyes and sniffing exploratively at the smell of breakfast in the air.

"Morning," Paul managed to croak, afraid of what they might say to each other in the light of day. Brenda sat down and looked at the plate, "Morning," She said. Then she looked about for a moment and Paul pushed over a mug of hot water and the instant coffee. They sat for several silent seconds as she mixed the coffee and sipped from it. THey didn't say much as they ate either, both lost in their own thoughts of the night before. That was, until Paul tried his hand at converstation.

"If your gona take a shower, you should probably do it soon, we don't wana be late for the calc test this morning." Paul tried something innocuous to start out, unwilling to ask her if he was so awful to nearly kiss. Wondering why his best friend couldn't of just said no. But he was suddenly caught up in her flurry of movement, feeling her hand latch onto his and dragging him around the table and towards the bathroom.

"The calc test! Oh god! You gotta quiz me Paul, you've just got too!" Paul followed her down the hall, not sure of what to expect when she dragged him right into the bathroom with her. She pushed him backwards a bit until his ass hit the edge of the sink, then she hopped into the shower stall, pulling the door shut behind her. Then clothes started to fly over the top of the stall and she turned on the water, steam immediatly filling the small enclosed room.

"Well...ahh...derivitives..." Paul went through all the major subjects with Brenda, his eyes locked onto the frosted glass, catching the dark silouette of Brenda. An indistict form that was caressing and washing itself in the same room as Paul. He tried to keep his voice steady, but he knew she could hear his lust. He was having a hard time keeping his erection down in his pants, as he watched her wash her hair, and rub the bar of soap on her body. He also saw her panties, hanging from the handle of a drawer, where they had caught when she threw them out of the stall. He wanted to go to them, he wanted to hide them somewhere, so he could keep them as a reminder of her. He wanted to leave, knowing how she felt about him. Instead, he stood there, explaining calculus to her through the thin glass of the shower stall, alternatly staring at her panties and her form through the glass. He had just made up his mind to take the panties when the door opened a crack and her arm came out, glistening and dripping water. "Towel!" Paul grabbed a towel from the stack on the counter and handed her one, watching it disappear into the stall with her, and watching the stall slip shut.

He waited a moment, and out she came, wrapped only in the towel, her hair wet and heavy down her back as she grabbed his hand, pulled and then pushed him into the stall. "Shower quickly, so we can continue to quiz on the way to class." She shut the stall door behind him, and now he was safely behind the glass, seeing her form once again. She moved the towel and started to dry herself off, placing a foot on the edge of the counter to dry her legs. Paul quickly stripped out of his own clothing, throwing them over the top of the stall door and hearing a sudden, "Hey!" when his jeans landed on her head. Then he turned on the water, and they continued to quiz as he showered, idly wondering if he could masturbate without her noticing. He didn't, and soon he had his arm out of the stall asking for a towel.

When he stepped out, clad only in his towel, he saw her stuffing something into her pocket, and he wished he had on more as his erection was obvious. He moved past her to his room, to change into some fresh clothing as she gathered up the rest of her stuff. Soon, they were out the door, walking briskly towards class, ignoring the elephant that was walking close behind them and working on calculus as much for the sake of Brenda's grade as for the sake of Paul's feelings. They got right to the classroom door when suddenly Paul was turned about by a hand on his wrist.

He looked straight into the freshman girl's eyes, hearing the door shut behind him as Brenda had gone in, expecting him to follow. He didn't dare look about, he just looked at the girl incrediously. "Ahh..hi." Paul said lamely, as she went to wrap her arms around him. He took a step back, hitting the shut door. "Wait...what are you doing?" He said, obviously aware of her intentions, but not sure why she was doing them. "Giving you a hug silly," was he response.

He shook his head, "Why would you do that? We don't even know one another." She bridled a bit, but quickly got herself under control. "Don't you want to know me? I like you Paul, don't you like me?" Paul looked shocked for a moment. "I'm sure your a wonderful person, but I can't like you...I...I'm sure you've heard of the Paul and Brenda thing...well...there is more than a little truth to that." Paul was unaware that Brenda had stopped inside the door, and he wasn unaware of the fact that she heard all of this. He wouldn't of thought it had matter either, had he known. Then after several more long moments of discussion, he got away from the freshman girl and into the testing room, only to find Brenda sitting where she always sat, but Jason wasn't in the row behind her, he was beside her with his arm wrapped around her shoulder. Paul felt even worse than he had when he woke up that morning.

There was Brenda, happy with Jason, revolted by himself, and he had just had to shoot down that poor girl outside. Paul didn't goto his seat to Brenda's left, he slunk to the back of the room, and dropped heavily into a chair there. Paul went on to ace the test, but it was a joyless victory.

 

[Arioso]

Thank goodness Paul had a level head on his shoulders!!

The calc test. Here she'd been worrying about it for over a week, and her emotions from last night had clouded her mind so greatly that she'd completely forgotten about it. Luckily for Brenda, she had Paul for a friend. He, at least, didn't let his brain get all muddled over...

...over love...

Brenda paused for a moment in her urgent haste to remove her clothes, feeling her heart shrink in her chest like a wilting souffle. Okay, so maybe she wanted his brain to be a little muddled. Here she was, standing partially naked in his shower, with only the frosted glass door between them. Couldn't his brain be just a little muddled? Or did he really feel nothing for her beyond close friendship?

Guiltily, Brenda resumed undressing, shimmying out of her jeans and panties. She looked down at the cotton panel of her underwear and realized that there was no way she was going to re-wear them. Either she'd gotten even more excited by her cuddling with Paul than she'd thought, or...she'd remembered a dream when she woke up. It was one of the reasons she'd found it so difficult to talk with him at breakfast this morning.

In her dream, she hadn't been alone in the bed. Paul had been there with her. Holding her. Whispering against her lips that he wanted her, right before he sucked her tongue into his mouth. Rolling her beneath him and sinking into a slow, sensual rhythm between her thighs. It had been so real, Brenda hadn't wanted to wake up.

Brenda tossed her remaining clothes over the shower door, making a mental note to stuff the panties in her pocket later.

Beneath the warm spray, Brenda washed herself with deliberately erotic finesse rather than her usual, businesslike efficiency. She knew it was childish and stupid, but dammit! She wanted Paul to notice that she was a woman. Hey, naked female here! Look, I'm even touching myself!

Of course, being the nice guy he was, not to mention the fact that he cared for her as a friend and always had her best interests at heart, Paul went about quizzing her for the Calculus exam instead. Just like she'd asked him to. With a defeated sigh, Brenda rinsed herself, shut off the water, and asked Paul for a towel. Well, okay, she barked for a towel.

It was a small comfort to Brenda that Paul's eyes did widen slightly at the sight of her, wrapped in the towel, her damp, touseled hair clinging to her naked shoulders and dripping rivulets of water down over her clavicle and into the valley between her breasts. That only means he isn't dead yet, Brenda told herself. Not letting herself dwell on it any further, she hustled him into the shower and went about drying off and getting dressed.

When Paul emerged from the shower, his towel visibly tented, Brenda wished she could be flattered by the thought that maybe he had been aroused by her. But she knew about guys and morning boners...this was no doubt just a quirk of male physiology.

Brenda was able to conceal her moodiness beneath their mutual quizzing as they walked to class. That was, until she saw a familiar, too-fashionably-dressed, blonde freshman girl makig a beeline for Paul just as they reached the lecture hall for their Calculus class.

Oh great.

Brenda's first impulse was to flee so she wouldn't have to see this. Wouldn't have to feel the humiliating sense of loss when cute-as-a-button Miss Freshman bounced over with her li'l bunny rabbit enthusiasm and pawed all over Paul. So, without breaking her stride, Brenda pulled open the door and sailed on through, cringing when she heard it close behind her.

That solid wood thud of a door falling shut because no one had followed her through. No one had reached out to halt it in mid-swing. The sound of loneliness.

But wait...other sounds were filtering through the door...

Brenda listened closely, not caring that she was eavesdropping. Though muted, she caught snippets of a very interesting conversation.

...giving you a hug silly...Don't you like me?

I can't like you...sure you've heard of the Paul and Brenda thing...well...there is more than a little truth to that.

Brenda's first reaction was one of blood-chilling dread. Her hand clapped over her mouth as she contemplated the utter embarrassment of the fact that he obviously knew all about her crush on him. No wonder he'd been awkward this morning. It had probably been easy for him to read her, to see her slipping into her futile infatuation for him -- shoot, nobody could read her like Paul could. And now the poor guy was turning down other women because he was worried about hurting his stupid, lovesick friend! Brenda felt absolutely terrible.

Just for a moment, though. As Brenda continued listening, what she heard made her heart leap back to life.

Yeah, I've heard of the Brenda and Paul thing...everyone says it's been going on for years, and nothing has ever happened.

Hey! That was snooty!

So why would you waste your time on something that isn't going anywhere when you have other options?

A scowl darkened Brenda's face. Bitch! Her expression softened -- indeed, became downright beatific -- when she heard Paul's sincere, simple answer.

Brenda means more to me than any "option". I've had dozes of other "options", and none of them has come even close to making me feel what she does.

With a sudden snap, the proverbial light-bulb came to life in Brenda's brain. She started toward her seat in a daze. Brenda and Paul...more than a little truth... He'd...he'd been talking about himself! It was still too much to hope for, yet Brenda found herself floating on a cloud at the thought that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

But how on earth had they gotten their wires so crossed.

As soon as she settled into her seat, Brenda had her answer. A brawny, masculine arm draped itself across her shoulders, and when she looked to see who was using her as a leaning post, she saw that the arm was attached to--

"Jason," Brenda muttered, absolutely underwhelmed.

"Hiya, babe. Ready for the ordeal?" The grin Jason flashed her was just a little too smug, a little too proprietary. It riled her.

And about the only time that Brenda was ever quick with the really painful, biting comebacks was when she was good and riled. Like she was now.

"I should be," Brenda fired back coolly, her gaze slicing through Jason as if she meant to dissect what tiny shred of personality he possessed. "Paul quizzed me in the shower this morning."

Unfortunately for Brenda, Jason might be a swaggering lout, but he was also a cold-blooded, calculating competitor when his ego was on the line. Counting on the fact that Paul was probably somewhere in the room getting ready for the exam, Jason let his arm drop from Brenda's shoulder to her side, where his hand cupped her breast and gave it a firm squeeze.

At Brenda's shocked, indrawn breath, Jason leaned close to her ear and whispered, "Kinky. Didn't know you were that kind of a girl. So, when's my turn in the shower?"

Brenda's glare could have reduced a Redwood to cinders. "Not. Ever," she bit out venomously. "Get your hands off me."

Jason complied, although with a lazy lack of concern that infuriated Brenda. The whole exchange rattled her to such a degree that she was unable to concentrate on the exam at all. She managed to write out her answers but any confidence she had in her reasoning was shot to hell. When she handed in her exam, Brenda could only hope that she'd be lucky enough to get a C.

On the way out of the auditorium, Brenda scanned the crowd for Paul but couldn't see him anywhere. Hardly surprised, she was nonetheless a little disappointed. No doubt he'd finished early and left, as he always did, but Brenda really wanted to talk to him. About everything.

It wasn't until later in the afternoon that she caught up with him lounging on one of the couches in the Student Union, reading up for one of his other classes. As soon as she saw him, she felt shy. How was she supposed to approach her best friend now that she knew they both wanted the same thing?

Sure, the direct approach was usually best, but there was the small matter of the butterflies in her stomach, fluttering about so erratically that Brenda wondered if she'd be able to get any words out. Somehow, she managed to greet him as she approached and sat down close beside him.

"Hey, math ace. How'd you do on the exam?" Brenda asked, feeling a little thrill when Paul didn't so much as shift or move away at the feel of her pressed so close to him. But there was a turbulent storm in his eyes. Several emotions seemed to be warring with each other. Desire...but also pain.

"Well, we won't know, silly, until the prof grades them and hands them back," Paul teased lightly, although his humor came off a little strained. Something was eating at him but Brenda could tell he was trying to cover it up and play at being his usual, good-natured self. "Think your study date with Jason helped?"

Brenda's expression darkened almost frighteningly at the mention of Jason's name. She felt the bile rising in her throat and a burning echo of his hand where he'd groped her breast. Jeez, she still couldn't believe he'd had the gall to do that!

"Jason's no help at all. That's the first and LAST time I'll ever study with him," Brenda growled angrily. "I mean, that guy doesn't even KNOW what the word 'boundary' means, let alone understand that he should respect a few boundaries when he's with a woman who's not interested. Not only could that little prick NOT keep his stupid hands off me when we were supposed to be studying, but he actually copped a feel right before the exam today. Can you believe the nerve?!? Eww, he makes my skin crawl. What a jerk. I wish I'd known what he was really like before I was so dumb as to agree to a study date with him."

As Brenda went on her tirade, she caught a brief glimpse of a delighted smile lighting Paul's face. One that reached his eyes and made them shine with genuine delight. Okay, so something had made him happy...and she had a pretty good guess that it had to do with her venting her true dislike for Jason. But then Paul's smile faded and he started to scoot self-consciously away from Brenda, putting a more platonic distance between them.

Twenty year-old college girls aren't always the most insightful when it comes to men. What Brenda didn't realize was that Paul had listened to her on two levels. And while the discovery that she had no feelings for Jason at all had filled him with glee, he'd read a little too much into her indignation at Jason's improper touching. Although Brenda had very much enjoyed snuggling with Paul the night before, it didn't even occur to her that Paul could hear her soapbox speech about 'boundaries' and 'hands off' and feel guilty about the way he'd touched her -- and how badly he'd wanted to touch even more of her -- when they lay together on the couch.

Thus, she was unaware of his silent, vehement resolve NOT to be in any way like Jason...and thus, to make sure that he kept his hands and his urges safely away from his friend.

"So, listen....Paul..." Brenda began, suddenly nervous again as she tried to think of a way to talk with him about the two of them and what she hoped was a mutual attraction. "You've still got a ton of dishes sitting in your sink, and I'm partially to blame for them. Can I come over tonight and help clean up? Then, you know, maybe we could make dinner again...and just make more dishes to clean up...and...uh...I don't know...talk..."

Oh swell! She was babbling...she always did that when she was nervous. Paul had to know something was up.

Paul, too, seemed nervous. Downright jittery, even. He started gathering up his notebooks and answered her, not looking her in the eye, as he stuffed everything in his backpack. "Uh, I'm not sure about tonight...I've got a late biology lab...project due and everything...besides, don't worry about the dishes. You know I don't mind. Anyway, I've got a class...gotta go..."

"Oh, okay," Brenda murmured somewhat forlornly as she watched him stumble over himself to get away from her. "Well, maybe I'll..."

Paul was waving good-bye and flashing her a quick, friendly smile as he strode away.

"...call you," Brenda finished, more to herself than to him.

What had that been all about?

 

[Rhovan]

Paul Knight

Paul was doing his best to not stare at the happy couple that was Jason and Brenda. He didn't want to, it just made him seem needy and desperate. He couldn't really be called desperate, since he had just turned down an obviously willing and attractive woman just outside this very room. But he did look, and glimpse things that made his heart slow dangerously down. Jason slid into his seat next to Brenda and hooked his arm about her shoulders. He leaned over towards her, she leaned back and then it happened.

Paul wasn't sure if he should get up and run out the room, get up and attack Jason, or just cry for Brenda because she had gotten so involved with such a womanizer. But Paul wasn't happy to see Jason's hand slip down Brenda's side and grasp her breast. He let out a small choked noise, then he turned away, he couldn't watch it. He looked back only one more time, and they were busy working on their tests, not sitting as close as before, but they still sat next to one another. Paul finished his test a quickly as he could. He was riled, and he was emotional, but the logic of his mind still shone through and he did a good job on his test. But he bolted as soon as he finished, which was only some 15 minutes into the test, so he ran home.

It took Paul the better part of the day to get himself straightened out. He eventually made his way out to the Student Union, to study where he might talk to some of his other friends who filtered through the building from time to time. He was studying for his psychology exam, intent on work and trying to not think about Brenda and Jason. He was surprised when Brenda appeared, sitting down beside him closely, as if nothing had ever transpired between them.

"Hey, math ace. How'd you do on the exam?" Paul thought he should move away from Brenda, but he couldn't. He wanted and desired the contact between them. No, he needed the contact. He looked up from her legs where his eyes had first landed to confirm her identity, his eyes held many different emotions all at once. Desire, pain, hope, fear, anger, jealousy, need...Paul's eyes had become so un-readable due only to the amount and intensity of the emotions in them.

"Well, we won't know, silly, until the prof grades them and hands them back. Think your study date with Jason helped?" Paul mustered all of his efforts to sound good natured and jovial. It was an obvious front, that Brenda saw through in a second; though she didn't exactly know why Paul had put the front up in the first place. He spoke of the source of his pain, and the source of her joy. He didn't know why exactly, but he was pretty sure he did it out of hurt and spite, though she reacted completely different from what he expected. She scowled, her brow knit and her eyes took on a firey light.

"Jason's no help at all. That's the first and LAST time I'll ever study with him. I mean, that guy doesn't even KNOW what the word 'boundary' means, let alone understand that he should respect a few boundaries when he's with a woman who's not interested. Not only could that little prick NOT keep his stupid hands off me when we were supposed to be studying, but he actually copped a feel right before the exam today. Can you believe the nerve?!? Eww, he makes my skin crawl. What a jerk. I wish I'd known what he was really like before I was so dumb as to agree to a study date with him."

Paul couldn't believe his ears, half the storm drifted right from Paul's eyes as if they had never been there; not even the hint of them. The hurt, the anger, the fear, the jealousy all drifted off like smoke on a breeze. But Paul's eyes were no less tumulious for their lack, with the suddenly more powerful feelings of desire and need and hope rolling and tangling with one another. But his demeanour and his mind was obviously lifted from previously. But then he had a thought. She didn't like men that presumed to touch her, men that were prone to improprieties. Paul looked down again and saw their thighs, pressed tight to one another, her jeans and his cargo pants. He blinked and then he turned away from Brenda some, towards his bag. He fiddled with his books, putting the one he had out away, the movements half masking his pulling away from Brenda, so that he didn't touch her leg anymore and a safe space of an inch or two seperated them.

Paul could only see their last night in his head, her pressed close to him, his erection pressing against her rump, his hands touching her nipples several times. He suddenly felt awful. He loved Brenda, he knew that, but she didn't love him back. She was however such a good friend that she wouldn't openly denounce his actions -- she was giving him a chance to keep his dignity intact. He knew he had over time, gotten more comfortable with the casual touching they did together. But he couldn't think of any times that she had ever touched him first, and he suddenly felt very...dirty. How could he do such a terrible thing to such a wonderful woman as Brenda? He was ashamed, and he plushed bright red in his shame.

"So, listen....Paul...You've still got a ton of dishes sitting in your sink, and I'm partially to blame for them. Can I come over tonight and help clean up? Then, you know, maybe we could make dinner again...and just make more dishes to clean up...and...uh...I don't know...talk..." Normally Paul would have seen her being uncomfortable, which would of made him wonder why she was uncomfortable -- but Paul desperatly needed to be away from Brenda, to stop exposing her to his unwanted advances and his coy touches. He turned and zipped his bag closed, then he stood up and looked back for a moment.

"Uh, I'm not sure about tonight...I've got a late biology lab...project due and everything...besides, don't worry about the dishes. You know I don't mind. Anyway, I've got a class...gotta go..." He started away, his shin caroming off the corner of the table that was sat near the couch, but he didnt' slow or even aknowledge the blow even though the table shoved an inch or two and it threw Paul off his gait.

"Oh, okay. Well, maybe I'll...call you," Paul was already out of earshot when she finished the statement, he gave her a wave and a smile and then he disappeared out the doors. He did stop then, once the thick oaken door was between the two of them. Then he cursed a low, steady stream of invectives as he reached down to drag his pant leg up over the spot where his shin had slammed into the table. He saw, it would need a band-aid as it bled slightly from the angle and speed with which he had connected. He swore and started home, favoring his right leg a little bit. He kept a cheery face as he moved towards his apartment, unaware that Brenda had followed a little closer than he expected, and saw him limping down the street. Unfortunatly, she didn't follow him home, and the misconceived notion of his improprieties was allowed to foster.

When Paul got home, he checked on Steve who had slept the whole day apprently only waking long enough to fix himself a bowl of Cap'n Crunch and to drink a hat trick worth of Zimas; then he dragged himself back to his room. Paul stripped his pants off and limped into the restroom to fix his leg, cleaning it up and covering it in a pad of gauze secured by an ace bandage. He limped his way back to the kitchen, and started working on the dishes. He quickly washed everything, while trying his best to fight the sudden influx of demons in his head. How long had he been subjecting Brenda to this kind of torture? How long had she silently suffered? And the night before?! That was driving Paul crazy. How could he think it would be alright to dry hump Brenda's rear-end while she tried to enjoy one of their favorite movies.

Paul didn't do anything after the dishes but goto bed. It was somewhere around 6:30 when he laid down, and he didn't know what time it was when he finally fell into a tortured sleep. All of his dreams cried at him that he was worse than Jason, because he had been doing it for years. But he got woken up again around 8:00 o'clock when Brenda's voice was talking out of his answering machine.

"Hi Paul. It's me Brenda, I was just wondering if you'd like to go see that movie at the Student Union tomorrow. It's the same one we missed two nights ago, and it's the last night they'll be playing it. I'd love it if you'd take me out to see it. Bye." Paul lay in bed thinking about her words. She seemed happy enough, and she did want him to hang out with her. Those were his thoughts when he fell asleep, but his dreams took on a different cast from before. He wasn't worried about what he had done to Brenda in the past, now he was intent on never doing it to her again. He wouldn't touch her until the day and time she took his hand and put it on her. Then he knew he wouldn't have ever gone past the point where she didn't want him to go.

When he woke the next day, he didn't have any desire to goto class. He played the truant, and skipped all of his classes. He hadn't slept very well the night before, and the small bags under his eyes attested to that fact. He cleaned the apartment, which was an uphill battle with Steve living there, who was pretty slovenly. Once everything was straightened up, he noticed he hadn't touched the couch. The blanket still rested on one end, where it had been shoved, and the cushions were out of place, but Paul couldn't bring himself to change anything about it, so he watched TV for most of the day in the over stuffed chair near the couch. He only stirred himself from his seat, where he was just ignoring everything and loosing himself to the mind numbing effects of TV, in order to prep for his evening at the movies with Brenda. He assumed they would meet there, so he showered and dressed. He didn't do his hair, and his clothes came close to matching but didn't quite make it. He arrived early, as was his usual custom.

Standing out front of the Student Union, holding two tickets to the movie that Brenda had wanted to see for the last several days now. "Hi Paul!" He saw her approaching, and when she threw her arms out wide to hug him, he turned and took a limp step into one arm, trapping the hand. He pressed one of the tickets into her palm and gave her hand a hearty pump in a hand shake. "Hiya Brenda. I got the tickets, we should go in." He turned and opened the door, placing it between him and he and letting her walk in before him. He gave her a smile, and he thought he was hiding himself well; keeping himself away from doing what she seemed to hate the most.

 

[Arioso]

Brenda's throat constricted a little at Paul's odd behavior. She had been nervous enough as it was just asking him out. It had taken her forty-five minutes to work up the nerve to call him, another thirty to rehearse exactly what she'd say, and then four tries dialing his phone (only to hang up before the first ring even made it through) before she'd finally gone through with it. Then, afterward, she agonized over whether her voice sounded too eager or too strained. As the hour of the film had approached, she'd wondered if he would even show up. After all, he'd never called her back, and they had both been known to miss out on planned get-togethers and then apologize later. It was just their way.

Now, everything seemed strange. More vivid, it was true -- Brenda found that she was hyper-aware of everything about Paul, and there was something exciting about that. Almost as if her body sensed his, male to her female, and was attuning itself to him. But at the same time, it unsettled her comfortable familiarity with her long-time friend. They'd always hugged each other in greeting. It came as naturally as breathing. Why was he shying away?

Had Brenda misunderstood so terribly what she'd overheard?

Then she noticed it.

As they made their way into the Student Union theater, Brenda saw how Paul favored his right leg. She remembered how he'd slammed into that table in his hasty retreat yesterday and she'd even seen him limping. If it was still bothering him, he must have hurt his leg pretty badly.

Or, knowing Paul, he hadn't taken care of it properly. Probably just slapped a bit of gauze on it and left it at that. She didn't know whether she wanted to whack him over the head for not taking better care of himself...or kiss him and make it better.

They found a couple of seats near the back of the auditorium just before the lights dimmed. Brenda wished that they'd had more time to talk. She and Paul were pretty good at understanding each other when they actually took the time to sit and talk...and there was something breathless and mysterious and gut-wrenching hanging in the air between them. But the room darkened and the two of them turned their attention to the screen. At least for a while.

As the action progressed on screen, however, Brenda realized that her attention was divided between the seductive tango scenes in the movie, and the more subtle dance that seemed to be going on between her and Paul. When her knee brushed his, he shifted away. If she leaned against the armrest, Paul dropped his arm and rested his hand in his lap. It was indeed a bittersweet dance of advance and retreat, albeit one Brenda might never have noticed if it hadn't been for the fact that she wanted to enjoy the easy, comfortable touches that always passed so easily between them. The romance on the screen was getting particularly steamy, each of the dance tableaus weaving a subtle mood of eroticism without ever getting too graphic, and the mood was having an effect on her. Bodies tensed yet moving with liquid fury, choreographing raw passion...Brenda knew her cheeks were flushed and she could feel her tight nipples straining against her soft, clingy turtleneck.

And for the first time ever, she was at a romantic movie with Paul and wanted it to be an actual date, rather than two friends out having a good time.

But he kept avoiding her...scooting himself to the far side of his seat and leaving Brenda almost cold from the lack of his body heat.

His careful distance was almost palpable. As he walked her back to her dorm, like he always did so she wouldn't have to cross campus alone at night, he always managed to quicken his pace or wander a few feet away, as if distracted by something he saw, whenever Brenda moved to slip her arm around him. She began to feel almost like a sleazy tart, trying to put the moves on him, except that it was completely normal for them to stroll arm-in-arm. Yet whenever she tried, Paul found a way to elude her.

If it didn't hurt so much, and if it hadn't deflated her confidence to the point that she couldn't laugh about it, Brenda might have teased him and asked if he thought she had "cooties".

All hopes of turning the evening into their first date, and perhaps even the start to a new stage in their relationship, had pretty well sunk by the time they reached her dorm room. Still, Brenda could no sooner stop caring about Paul and his well-being than she could stop her own pulse. So, when he turned to go, she unceremoniously grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him into her room. Thankfully, her roommate wasn't there.

"What--?" Paul began, sounding downright nervous, but Brenda cut him off.

"You. Sit. Now." Brenda ordered in a tone that Paul had long ago learned not to argue with. "I'll be right back."

Grabbing a plastic cup she used for drinking water, Brenda dashed off to the communal bathroom on her floor to fill it up, then returned to find a rather anxious Paul nonetheless sitting obediently in the chair by her desk. As he watched, still somewhat confused, Brenda rummaged through her small, cube refrigerator for some ice and fetched a washcloth and her stash of first-aid supplies from the closet.

Then, when she had arrayed what she needed on the desk, she stood before Paul, her feet firmly planted, hands on her hips, and demanded, "All right, let's see it."

Paul's eyes widened and his cheeks flushed bright red, almost out to the tips of his ears.

"Uhh...s-ssee it?" he stammered, looking more panicked than Brenda could remember having seen him in a long time.

Brenda gave him a stern yet affectionate look, wondering why he was making such a big deal over having her look at whatever bruise or cut had made him limp since yesterday. "Look, we're going hiking together in a few days. Unless you want to be miserable the entire time, we may as well do this right and take care of you. So, drop your pants. Well, unless that's not where the problem is. Is it lower?"

"Jeez, Brenda!" Paul exclaimed, embarassed to the point that he almost seemed angry at her. He started to rise to his feet, but she placed both hands on his chest and firmly shoved him back down onto the seat, physically warning him that she would out-stubborn him if she had to.

"Stop being such a baby. I'm really looking forward to this hike, just you and me. I don't want it to be spoiled if you've got a bum leg. So let me take a look."

Paul blinked at her for a moment. "M-my leg?"

Shaking her head and grinning broadly at Paul's obtuseness, Brenda mussed the hair atop his head, then let her palm slide down to cup his cheek and teased, "Yes, your leg, silly. You know, that thing you stand on? The thing you need for hiking? The thing that's been bothering you so much that you've limped around all evening? Show Nurse Brenda where the problem is so I can take care of you."

For an instant, Paul's eyes darkened and his nostril's flared with fierce, unspoken emotion. His expression hinted at such strong feelings that it sent a warm tingle down Brenda's spine. Then he bowed his head slightly, averting his eyes, and murmured, "It's not that bad, really. I'm sure it'll be fine by this Saturday. I should...I should probably go."

Sighing in exasperation, Brenda crouched down, then settled to her knees between his parted legs and nudged his chin to make him look at her. "Paul, you never take care of yourself. Please...just let me patch you up. Humor me?" She dropped her hand to his thigh and gave him one of her warmest, most persuasive smiles.

Wordlessly, Paul swallowed and nodded at her. He tugged the baggy leg of his cargo pants up to reveal the bandaged contusion on his right shin. Ruefully, Brenda saw that her suspicions were correct -- he'd just washed it and slapped a little gauze on. Very delicately, she removed the dressing to see that the area around the cut was slightly red and tender -- inflamed because he hadn't bothered to elevate his leg or put any ice over it. She dipped her washcloth in the cup of water, then set about washing his cut. Thankfully, it wasn't infected -- Paul did take care to clean his bruises and scrapes when he got them. But the soreness would subside much more rapidly if he iced it, which he never did.

Brenda felt a little guilty when she realized how much she was enjoying herself...how nice it was to be able to touch him and not have him shrink away from her, even though he still seemed to be painfully anxious. She felt even guiltier when she considered her position, and thought of something else she could be doing on her knees, right between his legs. A warm, moist sensation tingled at the crux of her thighs, but she did her best to go about putting a new dressing on Paul's cut.

"There," Brenda announced when she'd finished. She slid Paul's pants leg down, indulging herself by letting her hand skim gently against his calf. "Good enough for you to limp home on. But promise me you'll put some ice on it when you get home? Trust me, it will help."

As she looked up at him, Paul's expression radiated vulnerability, need, and such urgency that Brenda couldn't resist a sudden, tender impulse to comfort him. She just wished she knew what was turning him all inside and out. Brushing the unkempt strands of hair away from his forehead, Brenda leaned close and placed a feather-light kiss on his brow.

Then, cupping his face with both hands, her eyes twinkling at him affectionately, she prodded, "Ya gotta start taking better care of yourself, kiddo."

Almost in a trance, Paul nodded, his eyes locked on hers. "Yeah...okay..." he agreed softly. When he finally glanced away, visibly agitated, he added, "I should, um, probably go. It's late."

Brenda backed away from his parted thighs and stood up, giving him room to get out of the chair. Paul's departure was awkward: he barely had a few hasty words of thanks for her before he was scrambling out the door. And they hadn't even had a chance to talk about their plans for the hike.

It left Brenda sorely frustrated. Her first attempt at a date with Paul, and it had been a miserable flop. Maybe he wasn't interested -- maybe she had just been a convenient excuse for him to use on that freshman girl he didn't want to date. Once again, the doubts started gnawing a hole in Brenda's gut.

If Brenda was frustrated, however, Paul was experiencing the sweetest agony he'd ever known. He'd had to stop on one of the lower landings in the stairwell and lean against the wall, fighting to get a hold of himself. Trying to sit still and act like nothing was amiss when Brenda had been on her knees, her head level with his crotch, had made that the longest fifteen minutes of his life.

 

[Rhovan]

Paul Knight

Paul didn't really watch the film. He saw it, as in his eyes were open and the massive lit screen was in his field of view -- but he wasn't exactly watching what was going on. He couldn't. He was crowding Brenda, and he didn't even relise it. When he sat down, he had leaned in towards her, out of instinct but then he saw what he was doing and he started to move away. His knee hit hers, so he promptly moved it away and tucked it under the other one. Then he dropped his arm onto her's on the armrest, and he promptly pulled his arm away into his own lap. He felt nearly ill for all the unconcious advances he was making towards Brenda, and he knew he was just ruining 'them,' he was going where Brenda clearly didn't want to go. For awhile there, Paul was seriously considering getting up and moving a seat down, to keep her out of his range. Instead he shoved himself closer to the opposite armrest, folding his hands into his lap, his near leg tucked tightly in.

After the movie, Paul walked Brenda home. No matter how uncomfortable he was with his unwanted advances towards Brenda, he couldn't let her walk across the campus by herself. But he didn't have to let her fall prey to himself. She moved towards him, just by the casual placement of her feet; but Paul dodged away, moving to see if he spotted a 'quarter' on the ground. Her arm came out to wrap around him, but she caught air instead, as Paul stopped suddenly and looked up and away, as if he recognised someone in a window. It went like that the whole trip to Brenda's dorm, but Paul still held the door for her, and called the elevator down. He was just like Paul every night, except for his reluctance to touch Brenda physically, and the pain in his eyes. Not to mention the pain in his leg. But when Paul turned to walk away from her dorm room, he felt her fingers clasp around his wrist like a band of steel, pulling up and away in such a way as to drag Paul backwards into the room.

"What--?" Paul asked, he thought she was going to berate him for his constant touching. His insistant need to drape himself around her, he burning desire to let her know how he felt. It was all a jumbled mess in his head, and it was half apprent on his face.

"You. Sit. Now. I'll be right back." Paul sat down. He knew he deserved what was going to come next. It could only be a storm of anger that would rival his stupid comments about politics awhile back. He'd be lucky to keep her as a friend once she was done tearing into him. He'd seen her do it to another guy once, and no doubt the man deserved it. Brenda could really strike to the quick when she needed too, and while she might not need do that now, Paul was fairly certain she'd want too.


He watched her exit the room with a cup, and he half thought she had got it so she could keep her throat moist while she yelled at him. Paul wanted to leave, but he owed Brenda to at least sit there and take her anger like a man. But when she returned she just set the cup down and opened her frige. Paul watched in mute curiosity as to what she was doing, setting her first aid kit, the ice in a baggy, the cup of water and a cloth on her desk, to his left as he sat in her chair there.

"All right, let's see it." If one could swallow their head in sheer surprised, Paul would of done that just now.
Twice.
Instead his eyes grew to saucers and his cheeks turned a red that most people thought had never been seen in nature before it was so vibrant and 'red.' "Uhh...s-ssee it?" Paul choked out. He didn't know what to think, but he knew if he did as she asked he wouldn't be able to keep his hands off of her and he would really ruin things between them. He had to fight both his intense desire and his embarassment at the same time -- which is no easy task.

"Look, we're going hiking together in a few days. Unless you want to be miserable the entire time, we may as well do this right and take care of you. So, drop your pants. Well, unless that's not where the problem is. Is it lower?" Paul wanted to crawl under her bed and die. She knew he had been harboring an erection all night, and while he wasn't sure why she was trying to humiliate him so much, but who was he to judge? "Jeez, Brenda!" He knew he had been wrong in his touching and his advances, but why did she need to take things so damn far? Was she proving that she was stronger? or that she knew what was going on the whole time? Pau started to stand, but Brenda simply put her hands out, palms flat on his chest and with a little shove he fell heavily back into the seat.

"Stop being such a baby. I'm really looking forward to this hike, just you and me. I don't want it to be spoiled if you've got a bum leg. So let me take a look." Paul felt such a sudden and amazing amount of relief that he actually sighed aloud. She wasn't trying to humiliate him, she was trying to fix his leg. "M-my leg?" When she nodded, he suddenly felt worse than he did when she was humiliating him. Here she was trying to be friendly and help him out, and he was being a pervert and thinking she was asking to see his cock. He blushed again, and his eyes fell from her face. He couldn't look at her anymore. He felt entirely too ashamed of his thoughts; even though she had no idea what he had thought, he was fairly certain his intent was broadcast clear enough for the next door neighbour to understand.

Paul missed the shake of her head and the grin, as he was looking at his shoes while his hands fell to the leg of his pants, ready to pull them up and out of the way. "Yes, your leg, silly. You know, that thing you stand on? The thing you need for hiking? The thing that's been bothering you so much that you've limped around all evening? Show Nurse Brenda where the problem is so I can take care of you."

Paul looked up for a moment, the lust warring and nearly winning against the shame and embarrassment in his eyes. For a moment, his eyes were feral and expressed a desire that would rival if not beat any other feeling anyone had ever held for someone else; ever. But then the shame redoubled it's effort, and lust ran away from the scorching heat of it. Paul's head bowed and his eyes went back to his shoe laces, "It's not that bad, really. I'm sure it'll be fine by this Saturday. I should...I should probably go."

Then he was looking at Brenda's face again, as her hand was under his chin and she had just dropped to her knees between his feet. He wanted to look away, but her gaze held him as fast as any pin had ever held a butterfly. He felt both exposed and vulnerable as she knelt between his legs. "Paul, you never take care of yourself. Please...just let me patch you up. Humor me?" Then she released Paul's chin and let her hand rest on his thigh, accompanied by a smile of pure humor. Paul nodded, and looked away as his hands blindly lifted his pant leg to his knee showing her his 'wound,' as it were. He couldn't look her in the face, and not just because as she bent to her task of working on his leg he would only see the top of her head.

He couldn't look her in the face because he knew he wasn't as good a friend as he should be. Right now, as she knelt in front of him, patching his legs, he could only think about what it would be like to slip his cock into her mouth. To watch her suck gently on him, to watch her struggle a bit as he forced his cock deeper into her throat. To see her swallow his seed, or wipe it delicately from her own lips. He shouldn't be thinking that, she was trying to patch his leg. He shouldn't be thinking about just easing his zipper down, to see what she would do. She would scream, and probably hit him in the crotch for good measure. Which is all he would deserve, maybe even less than he deserved for a stunt like that. He never felt her remove the bandage, or wash the cut again. He was lost in his thoughts of desire and reproachment.

"There. Good enough for you to limp home on. But promise me you'll put some ice on it when you get home? Trust me, it will help." Paul nodded dumbly, he had worked himself into quite a state as Brenda had worked silently on his leg. For several long moments, he was torn by the sheer desperate need he had to kiss Brenda; and the self revulsion that need caused himself. If only he knew how she felt, but he didn't. Even if she said it, he'd of assumed she was testing him here and now. And he knew he would fail that test. Then she brushed the hair away from his forehead and kissed the cleared spot. "Ya gotta start taking better care of yourself, kiddo." Her hands moved to cup his chin, and he broke. His need fled as he knew for a fact that she was only being friendly and he was reading entirely too far into the 'signs' she really wasn't sending. He felt very self concious for a moment, and he mumbled out "Yeah...okay...I should, um, probably go. It's late."

He sighed softly when she backed away, and he stood quickly. "Thanks...I.." Paul paused for a long moment, unsure where he needed to go suddenly with his words. "Thanks." He ammended hastily before shuffling around Brenda and out her door. He didn't slow at all until he was out of sight of her doorway, then he still hurried down the stairs. He stopped for a moment as his leg throbbed, then he leaned against the wall, trying to steady his breathing. Part of him wanted to cry, part of him wanted to break things, and part of him wanted to go back up there and tell Brenda exactly how he felt. But he didn't. Instead he got himself under control and he left. He hobbled down the stairs as best he could, then out into the crisp evening air and towards his apartment.

As he walked along, he wondered when exactly they would be going hiking. They hadn't talked about it at all. Paul was more than ready to leave it to blind chance, but Brenda would never do that. She always liked to have little plans and ideas for what was going to happen, she never wanted to be without recourse. Or at least, that is what it looked like to the average lay man. To Paul, well Paul knew the real Brenda, and that she just always had another idea. No matter what was happening or who was there, Brenda could always make it a fun time. Which was just another of many, many reasons why Paul was fairly certain he loved her. Somewhere in their years together, she had become the absolutely perfect woman. She was the scale with which Paul compaired all other women. But they all came up short of course.

Paul knew he owed it to Brenda to tell her how he felt. So she wouldn't be in the dark about his sudden, deep and utterly complete desire for her. He didn't relise until just now that he loved her. Not just her as in her body, but everything about Brenda. He thoughts, her smiles, her smell, the sound of her foot steps, the feeling of her presense in the same room, the musical quality to her laughter, her corny jokes, everything. The whole kit and kaboodle. Everything that made up Brenda and who she was, Paul was currently and had apprently always been in love with. Just now he saw it for what it really was. It was no longer the simple friendship they had.

To bad for Paul, that Brenda didn't feel the same way. One has never been so throughly crushed as one who's love is unrequited. But Paul owed Brenda at least as much as telling her how he felt. So he started to scheme...

The next day, Paul again dodged everything. He spent the whole day out, hiding really, but also purchasing the few items he'd need to make his camping trip comfortable. He waited until Brenda's night class, and then he called her phone, to leave a message on her phone. It was literally a matter of hours until the camping trip started, and he wanted her to know that he'd be there to go with her. It was after all her birthday celebration and he'd never missed one of those and he didn't plan on starting now: of course he was worried that after this one she probably wouldn't want him to be at the next one. But if that was her wish, Paul would grant it.

He left this message on her phone. "Hiya Brenda...I've got all the gear I need for our camping trip, I hope your fully stocked as well. I guess we could get together round noon, drive up to the moutains and then hike until nightfall or we find a likely spot to spend the weekend. It should be picturesque, though the weather man said it might be a little bit colder than the last couple nights. Which should make it a nice and brisk 70 degree's up in the moutains. I hope that doesn't scare ya off and all. See ya at noon I hope." Paul hung up the phone. Nothing to do now but wait. And once they got out everything, and they got up in the moutans and the time felt right....well...Paul would ruin everything then, with his declaration of love.

 

[Arioso]

It was with great relief that Brenda listened to Paul's message on her answering machine. He'd gone AWOL from his classes again, leaving Brenda with the uneasy sense that he was avoiding her for some reason, or at the very least that he had gotten sick or less able to walk on his leg. Whatever the reason, she'd feared that her birthday plans had all pretty much washed down the drain.

So, to hear his voice on the machine, to hear him say he was still planning on their hike, was music to Brenda's ears. She spent the rest of the evening packing her gear with a huge, dopey grin on her face.

Of course, it made her chuckle to hear him add on that last bit about being fully stocked on gear. He'd long teased her about being the only woman he knew who would walk right past a shoe store or jewelry boutique without any interest, but get sucked into an outdoor/camping supply warehouse as if by a tractor beam. Before she climbed into bed for the night, her backpack was neatly filled with every possible bit of gear two people could need on the trail, right down to topo maps of the park where they were headed, packets of hot chocolate for nice, piping hot drinks at the end of the day, and more than enough iodine tablets for treating their drinking water.

On the day of their trip, Brenda woke up near dawn, too excited to sleep late. She dressed in her hiking shorts, a tee shirt beneath a long-sleeved thermal shirt, and her well-worn, favorite hiking boots. Then, after packing her gear in her car, she went out to sit at her favorite spot on campus to watch the day beginning.

It was a copse of trees near one of the more splendid fountains and one of Brenda's preferred spots for sketching. This morning, however, she just needed to think.

About Paul.

They were about to spend a weekend alone together out in the woods. But what kind of weekend? It wasn't as if they'd never traveled together. They'd taken road trips before, even shared motel rooms once or twice.

Of course, that had been before Brenda had realized what she felt for her long-time friend. Now, knowing that she loved him, that being with Paul was what brightened every day, Brenda chafed under the constraints of friendship. She'd wanted to show him how she felt for days now, but every time she'd made an effort, Paul had pulled away. It left her edgy and impatient. Maybe it was silly and irrational, but she almost feared that he was slipping through her fingers right at the moment she understood how deeply she loved him.

And Brenda knew herself. She'd always been impulsive when something moved her straight down to her gut. It had even gotten her a sprained ankle once, when her parents had told her she was too young to go to a rock concert and she'd covertly jumped out of her bedroom window and hobbled off to the concert anyway, in utter defiance...and not a small amount of pain. But this time, she appreciated what trouble her impulsive nature could get her into.

What if she just leaned over and kissed Paul, spur of the moment? Would that ruin the weekend? Would they hike back off the trail in awkward silence because Brenda had pushed things too far, too fast?

As Brenda sat beneath one stately tree, leaning against the solid trunk and watching the cascade of water in the fountain, she laughed softly to herself. Paul would tease her mercilessly if she were agonizing like this over another guy. He'd tell her she was worrying over nothing.

Maybe...maybe she should just take Paul's advice, even though he was the guy now.

By the time she'd renewed her resolve and decided that it would be better to be honest with Paul than keep her feelings concealed any longer, it was nearly noon. When she returned to the dorm, she wasn't surprised to see Paul already waiting by her car.

Her smile radiated the happiness that was already bubbling up within. Unconcerned with appearances, she sprinted over to him and flung her arms about him in an enthusiastic hug.

"Hey you!" she murmured, nuzzling her head against his chest. "I've missed you. I'm so glad you're coming with me."

The warm glow she felt in her breast was mirrored in Paul's eyes when Brenda looked up at him. He wrapped his arms around her waist, completing their embrace, and smiled down at her.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, Bren."




OOC:

Sorry this is so lite...it's been a rough week....will do better with the next...

Eia Mater, fons amoris, me sentire vim doloris fac ut tecum lugeam.

 

[Rhovan]

Paul Knight

Paul packed everything he could think of. He had two sleeping bags, he had a multitude of tools, at least one hundred feet of rope, (Johny Bronson always finds a use for rope.) a hunting knife, a portable shower, a package of food, most of it trail prepped.

Then Paul went back to his bag and removed all the items he would have no use for. Oddly enough, he kept the rope. But he did get rid of the full length shovel, the ax, and the rake. He wasn't exactly sure how that last one got in the bag, but it did.

The day of the trip, Paul dragged himself out of bed. He hated morning, since his first morning. If the morning bit of the day could be cut out completely, Paul would be a much happier man. But this was for Brenda, and Paul knew he would do anything for the woman. The woman he loves. The women who made it quite obvious that touching her was the quickest way to get kicked out of her life.

Paul pulled on his hiking boots, which had been a gift from Brenda. Not a birthday, or a christmas gift, she had just shown up with them one day. At first, it didn't make any sense to Paul, but he had kept them, and they have seen quite a bit of use over the years. He pulled on a thick pair of socks, another pair of cargo pants, a regular white undershirt and a long sleeve grey cotton shirt. Pauled picked up his pack, placed a note on the frige telling Steve he'd be gone for the weekend, locked the door and started walking cross campus towards the dorms.

First Paul went to Brenda's dorm room, walking straight onto the floor which didn't bother anyone, including the RA. Paul had become a fixture almost on this floor, and everyone knew he wasn't here for an illicit purposes. In fact, they were amazed at his ability to navigate the floor without looking up higher than anyone's knees. He stopped at Brenda's room and knocked on her door, which was quickly opened.

"Jerem...hiya Paul, Brenda isn't here." Brenda's room mate said, as she threw the door open. She had apprently been waiting for her boyfriend, since Brenda was out of the room. "She went to her 'thinking spot,' the room mate continued. Paul smiled, "Thanks. I probably should of called first, huh?" With a shrug the room mate smiled even brighter and skirted around the edge of Paul to grab the other man on the floor. But this one was sneaking as best he could from door way to door way. Brenda's room mate pulled the guy into the room and with a wave, she shut the door behind them.

Paul turned and headed out of the dorm room, towards Brenda's car, to see if she was there before he headed towards the foutain. She wasn't at the car, but he saw her approaching, so he turned and leaned against the side of the vehical, waiting for her to walk up. Her face split into a huge grin, and she ran over to the car. He took a couple of steps from the car, and it was a good thing as she wrapped herself around him in a hug. He took her in a half spin, and he considered moving to the side, but he really didn't want to watch Brenda run into the side of her car.

"Hey you! I've missed you. I'm so glad you're coming with me." Her face was tight to his chest, and her arms were around him in one of the fiercest hugs he'd ever had before. For a short moment, Paul had a feeling of stark panic, he had invaded her personal space. Then with a silent self admonishment, he relised she had hugged him. This was okay. He wrapped his arms around her, hugged her back with equal vigor and even gave her a half turn in his arms. He smiled down at her. "Wouldn't miss it for the world, Bren."

Slowly they broke the embrace, and Paul took a couple of deep breaths. The feel of her breasts pressed hard against his chest, her thighs against his own. He was hard pressed to keep his erection from digging into her stomach. He stepped back, keeping his arms on her shoulders and looked her up and down. So long as they didn't break apart, it was still technically a touch she started. "Your the only woman I know that can make thermal long johns look good Bren."

She smiled back, and they slowly pulled apart from one another. Paul lifted his bag from beside Brenda's car and started around to the other side, in order to climb in. She unlocked the doors, and he pulled his open, to put his bag in the back. He smiled at her over the car, and he was struck by how utterly blissful she looked. He wasn't exactly sure why, but she looked the happiest he had seen in days. Since that fateful breakfast several days ago when Paul suddenly started feeling for her...in a more than platonic way. Pauled climbed into the car and adjusted himself, buckling in as Brenda did the same.

"And away we go," Paul set his hand down on the center consol, and relised his forearm was resting directly beside Brenda's. Paul didn't pull away, besides, where would he go in a car? He liked it anyhow, even if it was through two layers of cloth.