Coder Girl 2 /Dreamwastaken/

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I woke up alone and didn't even question it for a few minutes. My sleepy mind was still convinced that Clay should be in Europe.

When I finally realized, I tiredly reached for my phone. Seeing that it was 2 in the afternoon provided an explanation for why I was alone in the room and also convinced me to get up.

As I brushed my teeth, I saw Clay pushing the door open through the mirror. He looked considerably fresher than me, having clearly been awake for a while. Not only was he already showered and dressed, but he was also casually munching on some toast.

I saw him shove what was left of the toast into his mouth, then casually roll up his sleeves. I turned around just in time to stop him from slapping my ass. He chuckled, rolling his eyes.

"Ahh, you're learning," he remarked as I turned around to spit out the toothpaste. He took the opportunity to pull me by my hips until my backside touched his crotch.

I wiped the corner of my mouth to remove the toothpaste residue, then rolled my eyes at him through the mirror.

"Did you have breakfast without me?" I asked, the delicious smell of toast overtaking my senses.

Clay tucked his hands into the sides of my panties, his fingers resting over my hipbones.

"I had just a single piece of plain toast," he replied, his words accompanied by the sensation of him gently pushing me back into him with his newly positioned hands. "Was waiting for you to wake up so I could have the rest of my breakfast."

"The rest of your breakfast?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah." He started pecking my neck.

"Which is?" I already knew the answer.

"You."

I am convinced that I have never seen this man not horny.

"And I thought you waited for me to wake up so we could have breakfast together," I giggled, feeling his lips on the back of my shoulder.

His hands traveled down to my inner thighs, his mouth still against my skin. "I mean, we can still do it together," he smirked, "your mouth will be fuller than ever-"

"You're getting too cocky," I used the word and regretted it, remembering that he made a joke about it every time.

"When there's too much cock some goes to your personality."

And there's an original joke every time.

We'd been ignoring our phones the whole time, and when someone started banging on the front door aggressively, we realized that it had been locked since yesterday. I could tell by the pattern that it was Nick.

"Is this what you wanted?" I laughed, "The FBI came to take you to horny jail." Then gasped when he playfully pinched my thigh.

"You're coming with me, dear." He bit my shoulder playfully, no intention of stopping and going to answer the door.

"Stop biting and go let them in," I said as I peeled myself away from his touch, earning a groan of annoyance from him.

"Go put on some clothes," he probably thought that it was only fair for him to boss me around after I had done the same to him. But he added a chery on top. As I turned to go, his hand made contact with my ass. And not even lightly.

"Fuck you." I laughed and left to get dressed.

The sounds of knocking finally stopped, and instead, Nick's voice filled the house.

"Have y'all been fucking since yesterday!? It's three p.m.!"

And then George had things to add as well.

"For real, who has sex in the afternoon?"

"Well, clearly not you two," Clay replied as I entered the living room, now fully clothed. "But then again, when do you?"

"Whenever your mom does," Nick spoke, "and she comes out at night-"

"Hello," I found the perfect timing to interrupt.

"Hey, best friend," Nick was affectionate, "how are you today?"

"I'm good, than-"

"I heard you've been drugged!"

George sounded way too excited. I'm sure he found it funny.

"Wow, you're so happy about it," I laughed.

"I'm only happy cause it didn't work, obviously." I wouldn't say he sounded too convincing, but at least he tried, "But hey, wanna make that pasta today?"

George had a habit of sending me TikTok recipes and trying to recreate them the next day. However, it almost always ended up as a disaster - either burnt, undercooked, excessively salty, lacking flavor, or just downright shit.

"Only if you promise to be helpful. I end up doing all the work every time," I complained.

"That actually explains the outcome," Nick spoke, uninvited but unable to resist talking shit.

I'd talk back to him, but there was no point.

"Yeah, you guys cook, we have to go somewhere," Clay announced.

Huh.

"Some where?" I raised a brow.

Instead of answering my question, they exchanged a glance, and George intervened, giving the impression that they were attempting to divert my attention.

"So do we have all of the ingredients?"

"Yeah," even though I was answering George's question, I was looking at Clay, still waiting for him to say something.

"We'll be back soon, Liz."

As George would say, interesting.

"That didn't answer my question, but alright," I replied with a shrug, trying to shake off my curiosity.

I've convinced myself that as long as they're together, nothing too bad can happen.

Anyways.

Resisting the urge to repeatedly ask where they were going until one of them got annoyed and answered wasn't easy. However, I managed to do it, and once they left, our cooking fail kept my mind occupied.

"Go wash your fucking hands." I refused to start until he'd do as I said.

"No, that'll kill all the flavor," George's words made me not want to proceed even more.

We somehow began shouting at each other even before starting the process. So far, we've only laid out the ingredients.

"Wash the tomatoes at least!"

"I don't wanna touch water." I don't know why I agree to this every time, knowing that the scenario never changes.

"Cut the onions, George."

"They make me cry, I have sensitive eyes." He can't be serious.

"Make the sauce."

"I can't do that."

"What can you do?" And once again, there was nothing left for him to assist with.

"I don't know, help to boil the pasta?" The worst part of it was that he was being serious.

"How? Gonna sit on the pot so the water boils faster?" I rolled my eyes.

He thought for a second, and I actually got scared he was about to do it. But turned out he was coming up with the most uncalled for interpretation.

"Does that mean I have a hot ass?"