Absolute Smokeshow

Food For Thought

"I was thinking of making pizza for dinner," you say as you walk into your apartment. Rhea had driven the two of you back from the gas station for safety's sake.
"Making it? From scratch?" she asked, watching you walk over to the kitchen.
"Not exactly," you take a plastic-wrapped mass out of the fridge, "I got the dough pre-made, it just needs stretching and toppings."
"Sounds like you have a lot in common," Rhea joked, smirking as you stick your tongue out at her.
"We can each make one, if you want," you suggest, washing your hands.

"Sure," she agrees, waiting next to you at the sink until you're done so she can do the same. You divide the dough and handed over a section once her hands are clean. While you were patiently letting gravity increase the surface area of your dough, Rhea immediately started spinning hers as she tossed it in the air and caught it over and over.
"Careful not to drop it," you warn, "The whole five-second rule thing is a myth."
"You don't have to tell me to be careful with anything physical," she said haughtily, taking a moment to pose, "I'm an athlete."
"You're a wrestler," you specify, "one of the few sports that doesn't require hand-eye coordination for a small object."
"Clearly you've never seen me take on Liv Morgan," Rhea quipped back.

Once both of your pizzas are made and in the oven, you set a timer and head to the couch.
"Where did the time go?" Rhea sighed to herself, looking at the clock as you packed a bowl. Her visit ended tomorrow and neither one of you was sure when you would be able to see each other in person afterwards.
"When do I need to get you to the airport again?" you ask, trying to stuff down the feeling of melancholy and lifting the bong onto your lap.
"I have an alarm set," she waved it off, "don't need to think about that until tomorrow."
"Lucky for you, I have something to help with the whole "not thinking" thing," you say, pointing the lip of the bong in her direction.
"Light me," Rhea orders, smiling at the face you make in response to the command - one she's become familiar with as a sign that you're turned on, despite any other indication. Keeping her hands at her sides, she places her lips on the bong as you hold it, lighting the bowl once she starts to inhale. Her eyes don't leave you until she gives a pointed glance at the bowl and you pull it out, watching her take in the remaining smoke.
Setting the piece aside, you turn back to Rhea and her mouth is on yours without hesitation, one hand on your thigh. Once you've inhaled all the smoke she's given you, she gropes your chest with her other hand, making you moan.

"Such a good girl," Rhea teases, watching as you fill the space between you with smoke, obviously only one thing on your mind.
Shifting in your seat, you look at the timer for the food, knowing there wasn't nearly enough time between now and then for either of you to get off.
"Don't worry, love," she says, a knowing look on her face as she pulls away, "We'll have plenty of time for that tonight and tomorrow morning."
Taking a hit of your own, you try to ignore the slideshow that's playing in the back of your mind of every dirty thing she's said to you, every touch, every hungry and slightly mischievous look at the noises you made.

Soon, the two of you are enjoying your food, music playing in the background, as you talk between bites.
"Now I'm just re-examining every relationship I've ever had with every pretty girl I've ever met," Rhea admitted. The trip to the resource center had obviously unlocked something and she was much more open than she had been.
"Yeah?" you ask, smiling, "Who do you think you had a crush on?"
"Honestly?" she seemed lost in thought as she took a bite, chewing before finally answering, "... Quite a few girls, and women. Fuck, how was I so clueless?"
"Were you?" you remember thinking something similar when you first came out, "Sometimes it's easier to assume this is how everyone feels and shrug it off that way. Other times, denial is just a survival technique."
The two of you keep eating as she considers this.
"Better late than never, I guess," Rhea finally says, shrugging, "Good thing it wasn't too late to meet you" - and then, demeanor shifting slightly, groaning - "I'm gonna have to thank Dom for making me go to that fucking bar."
You hadn't considered this. Did you really have him to thank? You'd already thanked your friends for dragging you to the bar, but Rhea had been angry with Dominik that night and he hadn't exactly been kind to you the day after. Doing your best to hide your conflicting emotions, you stuff your face with pizza and try to think about something else.