New Neighbors
by Saro
A couple of guys moved in upstairs of me this weekend. When I say a couple, I do mean a couple, too. Unfortunately. Hey, a girl can hope a pair of attractive, platonic guys are moving in above her, right? She might need help moving furniture or something and have to call on someone manly to do it. But I was keeping an eye on them through my window, and it didn't take too long to pick up the hints. There weren't any huge public displays or anything, but they were definitely together. It was actually sort of sweet. They seemed to have a good sense of humor in their relationship, from where I sat.
The darker haired one had my attention, mostly. He had a nice neck and shoulders. Great skin. Great back. Hell, the whole package was just generally tight. Very intense. You could just see that he was very focused. Whatever he was paying attention to, he seemed to devote one hundred percent and more, if it's mathematically possible. It was hard not to watch him. Not that his boyfriend had anything to be ashamed of--long, sun-streaked brown hair and a tan. He wasn't so much animated as he was wildly expressive, as though he could make his whole body project an emotion. He didn't draw my attention quite the same as the other did, but he was definitely worth the second look, and the third.
I did pull myself away eventually, but it took a Herculean effort--the dark haired guy stripped out of his shirt. It was a compelling sight, but I managed.
Later that afternoon I dropped by, all friendly and neighborlike, and introduced myself. The long haired man introduced himself as Duo Maxwell and his "friend" as Heero Yuy. When I heard him speak, I immediately upped my estimate of him. There was this burr in his voice that I couldn't quite place. If English was his first language, I'd be surprised, even though he spoke it well. His slang was definitely weird, and a lot of his turns of phrase seemed out of date. You don't hear much past-perfect anymore, but I suppose they may still teach it in other countries. Anyway, between his lazy accent and his wide smile, I couldn't help but regret the way his thumb stroked the back of Yuy's hand as he held it.
They really did make a cute pair.
I invited them over for dinner sometime, which they politely accepted without setting a date, warned them about Alexis Donatien's dog, and went back to my apartment where I started grading. Nice new neighbors, I thought, before I lost myself in comma splices and in page notations. Occasionally the sounds of them unpacking would remind me of their presence above my head, but that's about it.
That evening I sat down to play some solitaire after reducing my brain to something about the consistency of tapioca pudding reading sophomore papers, killing time until I was tired enough to go to sleep, when I heard sounds I initially took for more moving furniture. It didn't take long for the sound to evolve into a particular and very distinct rhythm. Creak, thump. Creak, thump. I looked up from the seven of spades, blinked a few times, ears heating up, before I snickered and put the seven down on the eight of hearts. First night in the new apartment. I decided to ignore the noise.
Creak, thump.
Creak, thump.
Creak, squeal, thump!
Bed springs. Laughing and blushing at the same time, I turned on the radio and went back to my game. Moving the nine of hearts uncovered the ace of spades, and I set it aside. Flipping over the next card, I found the jack of diamonds.
A few minutes more passed and I was doing pretty well at my game. It looked like I might win. Then I heard it again, softly above the sound of my music. Their pace seemed to have become more enthusiastic. Mostly, it was the "thump" that made it through the ceiling. Probably their headboard hitting the wall. Assuming they had a headboard. It could just be the mattress. But a headboard would give them something to hold onto other than the sheets.
God, that was a train of thought I didn't need to follow.
I turned up the stereo a bit more, mostly drowning out the conspicuous noise. Hey, they were celebrating, and besides, how long could it last? If my own experience with guys was any sort of basis, it probably wouldn't be too much longer. I mean, they'd already been at it for a little bit. And with two guys, how long could it take? In retrospect, I think they could read minds and took that as a direct challenge.
No sooner had I wondered that than a groan seeped down through my thin ceiling and made my ears burn. It wasn't hard to picture it coming from Maxwell. He would probably make that kind of husky sound.
Creak, squeal, thump--moan. It was hard to hear over the music, but it was still very definitely there. I shifted uncomfortably and put the five of spades on its discard pile. The six followed it, then the four of hearts went. That opened up the ten of clubs.
Creak, squeal, thump, moan.
I took a deep breath and concentrated on my game. I was going to win. Winning is good.
Yeah. Pay no attention to your new upstairs neighbors having sex over your head.
Right.
Sighing, I moved the nine of diamonds to the newly revealed ten of clubs. More cards moved. The discard piles grew. I was nearly ready to go to bed and face a long day of classes. There was an assignment due in my freshman class.
My freshmen class is pretty good, but I wasn't looking forward to it. This was their first writing assignment at this level, and it's always a gamut looking through the results. Some of them would probably be excellent, while others would be at a total loss. At least it wasn't a long assignment. If I was lucky, I wouldn't need to review the entire grammar handbook.
"Christ, Heero!" I heard, definitely in Maxwell's voice, followed by a crash. I looked up, surprised. Had they fallen out of the bed? Someone chuckled.
Apparently, because when the tempo resumed, it wasn't the same. The creak was gone, and so was the bed-spring squeal. There was still a thump, but it was more a muffled thwap, like something not-too-hard hitting my ceiling; their floor. It was barely audible over my music. Maxwell's groaning was louder if anything, though.
I glanced at the clock, debated turning my music up again. It was after eleven pm. Biting my lip, I turned the volume up just enough to obscure the sounds again.
Minutes later, the doorbell rang. I finished my game before that. I did win. I stopped putting away the card to get the door--I already had an idea what it would be. Sometimes, it's hard being right.
Standing outside was my next door neighbor, Alexis. He was always an unpleasant guy to deal with. At least he left his pit-bull at home. He was even looking fairly reasonable, for him. He gave me a scathing look when I stepped away from the spy-hole and opened the door. His five-o-clock shadow was running a few hours ahead.
"Some of us are trying to sleep," he told me without preamble. "Would you people turn your stereo down? I have to be at work in six hours."
"Uh, yeah," I said nervously. "I will. Just give me a couple of minutes. The guys that just moved in upstairs are... uh, they should be done soon."
He blinked slowly once, the way a cat will when it thinks you've done something so stupid it needs response, but isn't worth the energy of a more drastic display. "Just turn off your stereo, please."
I felt my cheeks heat up a little. "Alright."
"Thank you."
I did go turn the radio off. After all, I'm an adult. I went to college. I did the group habitation thing. I might blush and squirm a little, but I could deal with it.
With the radio off, Maxwell's throaty groans were now manifestly audible. They were joined by a soft, almost sighing grunt. The ceiling creaked in time with them.
I got ready for bed, set on ignoring them: brushed my hair, brushed my teeth, washed my face, changed into the pajamas. I did a pretty good job, I think. The noise wasn't as loud in the bathroom. The apartment isn't that big, though, and without the distraction of the radio, you couldn't quite get rid of it either.
Creaky, thwap, grunt, groan. They really had to be getting close to done, now. The pace was getting faster one moment, slowing the next, more erratic than before.
I really wish I didn't know that.
When I got into bed, they finally came, one after the other, though I couldn't tell you who was first. If I were going to venture a guess, I'd say Maxwell, but I couldn't even tell the difference between one voice and another when they were both making sounds of relief like that. I shot a look at the clock, was suitably impressed by their stamina, and snuggled down all alone in my queen size bed, consoling myself with the amount of room I had to spread out.
Sighing happily, I flip flopped around looking for the perfect way to go to sleep. Right when I decided I was most comfortable on my stomach, face turned to one side just enough to breathe, they started in on round two.
Creak, thump.
Back on the bed.
So you see, that's why I can't come in to work today.
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