When Time Ran Crooked

28 hours, 29 minutes, and 52 seconds Until

"Bea?"

Claude's soft voice had barely just reached my ears. But, nonetheless, I moaned in response, "Hmm."

"Are you asleep?" He inquired, quietly. 

I was tempted to raise my eyebrows at him, but decided against it. Mainly because Claude wouldn't be able to see it from where I was positioned, cuddled up against his chest. "Would I be responding if I was?"

"Just checking," he mumbled.

"It be like me asking you if you were sleeping right now," I added. "When I know you're awake, since you've been talking to me."

"Okay."

"Claude?"

"Yes?"

"Are you asleep right now?" I mimicked.

Silence.

"See?" I insisted. "Doesn't have the same affect."

"Well, if you're insulting me, at least I know that you're retaining some of your basic functions," Claude mused.

"I would say that's true, but then I'd be agreeing with you, and you're ... well, you," I responded in consensus.

"Thanks, Bea," he muttered, dryly.

I peeked up, offered him an obnoxiously large grin. "And you are ever so welcome, you big ol' virgin."

"You know, you really place a lot of emphasis on my sexuality," Claude acknowledged. 

I perched my chin up on his chest so I could truly study his expression. "You are a little insecure about your virgin status, aren't you?"

"No," he said, but he was blushing.

"Yes, you are," I retorted. "I'm practically a shrink, remember? I understand how you feel."

"I forgot about how much I hate that," he muttered.

"Claude, look at me," I ordered. 

"I am-"

"No. Really look at me," I insisted. 

Claude sighed, but his eyes met mine. His blue eyes shimmered like the surface of an empty vase, teetering on the edge of the world, with no hope of being caught. But I opened up my hands, placing them steadily against his waist, against his ribs. 

"Wha-what is it?" He asked, stammering unsteadily. 

"Don't be shy," I told him. "You have no reason to be. Sure, you're inexperienced when it comes to sex, but . . .the right person won't care. They might even find it endearing."

"What, that no one in this world has found me attractive enough to have sex with me?" Claude demanded. "That my first time will be when I'm old enough to be someone's dad, if it ever happens at all?"

"That you're innocent, pure," I corrected. "That you waited because you wanted to only share your body with the person you share your soul with. That you chose to be abstinent i-"

"I'm abstinent more by circumstance than choice," he told me. 

"I'm not quite sure if I believe you," I replied. "I mean, who wouldn't want to have sex with an educated, thoughtful, cute, and financially-stable reporter?"

The corner of his mouth twitched, as if he was unsure if he wanted to smile. "You think I'm cu-"

I scowled. "What?"

"Never mind," he told me. "You know, financial stability doesn't exactly get girls hot and heavy."

"Well, I don't know what type of girls you've been trying to date, but pretty much everyone that I know loves a guy that can keep his finances in order," I responded. "Being financially-stable shows that you're response, mature . . . that you're a man, not just some boy who doesn't know how to properly give you an örgasm."

"It's not like I know how to give you an orgasm either," he argued. 

I raised my eyebrows at him. "You're telling me you've never been in a Sex Ed. class? That you don't know female anatomy?" 

Claude blushed. "I mean, yes, but not in prac-"

"Trust me, it's not that hard to figure out," I told him. "I think you're over-analyzing everything. Honestly . . . if I were dating a virgin, I'd be thrilled."

Claude's expression remained unconvinced, as if he didn't believe me. "As if."

I folded my arms across his chest, leaning against them for support. "Don't scoff at me, I'm telling you the truth. Sure, it would take time time, but being someone's first basically means  you'd get to train them, right? If I was ever going to commit to having a long-term partner, then the sex better be spectacular to keep me interested. So if a virgin was involved, I'd be able to share with them all the tips and tricks to make the perfect sexual partner. To have a prize fucker."

"You can train people to have sex?" He questioned, his tone verging on bewildered.

"I mean, I've never really tried it, but I suppose so," I answered.

But Claude remained skeptical. "People aren't dogs, you know. You can't just give them treats, rub their head, and tell them they're a good boy."

"Um, getting to have sex with me is treat enough, Claude," I insisted. "And I'll be rubbing their head, if you get my drift, which you probably don't. And whoever is having sex with me better be a naughty, naughty boy."

"This conversation is making me uncomfortable," he told me.

"You brought it up," I reminded him.

"My mistake," he agreed. "No, uh . . . Do you, um, maybe want to get underneath our fort again?"

"Why? I'm comfortable here," I reasoned.  

"Uh . . ." His gaze fell and I followed his eyes. By leaning forward on my elbows against his chest, by looking downwards, Claude was getting a perfect eye-full of my breasts. 

I smirked. "Are my boobs making you uncomfortable?"

Claude blushed, but his gaze didn't move. "Maybe a little."

I laughed, lying back down smoothly against his side and pulling our fort carefully back over me. "Look away, you pervert."

Claude was blushing so hard he was beginning to look a bit sunburned. 

*