West of Mars -- the Meet and Greet

Mitchell was packing up the last of the gear when Lyric approached the edge of the stage. "Got plans, or can you come be a practice dummy again?"

He perked up, trying to hide his grin. He loved being Lyric's practice dummy; it was the easiest thing he'd ever had to do, and she didn't care if he talked or not. Which of course meant that silence reigned.

"What's the body part of the week?"

"One you'll love," she purred, sounding scarily like her porn-queen mom.

"You are so not getting near my dick," he said, giving her a grin over his shoulder. He turned back fast so he could finish packing up. The others were already gone; they'd packed up and split while he'd been talking to some girls, trying to convince them to buy ShapeShifter t-shirts.

The'd finally decided to blow their cash on some weed and smoke it with Eric and Trevor. And him if he wanted, but given the choices, he'd rather go with Lyric.

"Not your dick, stupid," she said with a laugh. "Your ass. Trust me." She planted a foot on the stage and stepped up beside him. Not that it was a high stage unless you were short. It was the way she did it, like she belonged up there. That's how Lyric was. Everything she did was cool.

Even though he was ready for it, he still jumped when she touched the waistband of his jeans.

"We start here," she said, pressing a bit harder, then ran her hands lightly down his ass and the backs of his legs, stopping before his knees. It should have been erotic. It wasn't. "And end here," she said. "All of this."

"What about my shoulders?"

"Throw in a t-shirt and you've got it." She bent over and picked up the last three cords that he'd left on the stage. "I don't need to pratice shoulders," she said.

He rolled his. "Yeah, but maybe mine need it anyway."

She laughed. "That is a different thing altogether. Best news of all for last," she added, handing the cords over. Mitchell packed them up as he listened. "Mom's out on a date and Harm's at a sleepover. The house is ours. Well, except for Allegra."

Mitchell grinned. This was setting up to be too perfect. Those two other girls could smoke weed all night for all he cared at the moment. He was going to be a practice dummy.

He fastened the case he'd just finished packing. "Let's load this into the truck and head out." He glanced around, trying to see if he'd forgotten anything.

"I need my shirt."

"It's in the truck."

She nodded. "You're driving, then?"

He eyed her. "You're not?"

"Allegra left me here when I told her I wanted to see if you were up for some practice."

Mitchell grinned. "She's jealous?" A jealous twin was one of Trevor's favorite things, no matter that in this case, there wasn't much to be jealous of. Lyric needed to practice. He liked getting free service from her. It was that simple.

"She thinks we're fucking," Lyric said with a tilt of her head, like if it was anything, it was confusing.

"Lyr, no offense, but I wouldn't do you."

She clapped him on the shoulder and handed him the case. "It's mutual, hot stuff."

Mitchell didn't ask the obvious question. Whatever this thing with Lyric was, they both understood it somehow. They'd never spoken about it, but they also didn't need to. She'd made it clear when she'd proposed this deal what she wanted him for: a warm body to massage. All he had to do was put her on a permanent guest list.

He definitely got the better end of the deal.


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Labels: creative writing, fiction, Lyric, Mitchell, outtake, Poetry Train, Rhian/Crowwoman