jiley/ trittany short stories

Choreographer

A/n: James is the choreographer in this and not a part of a-troupe so yeah but Riley is lol

It was forbidden, frowned upon, practically illegal so that's why it was it secret.

All the love bites, the lipstick marks, all of his clothes on her bedroom floor; they were never seen. Because he was the studio choreographer, and she was a troupe member.

They knew it was wrong, her being 17 and him being 21. Although 4 years wasn't such a difference it was still a student teacher relationship, if that was what it was.

If they were to define their "relationship" it would be sex. Nothing more than her turning up at his apartment after practise or the pair in his back seat of his car.
She would turn up to practise the next morning, with reddish, swollen marks covering her cleavage, with only a tight vest to cover the evidence.

He would walk in to class with his sunglasses on his head to distract from the sex hair he couldn't tame and would wear his leather jacket to hopefully cover the scratch marks her nails had left the night before.
He would occasionally wear the same white muscle tee which was stained with a slight mark of pink lipstick or the smell of her perfume and he would look towards her, biting his lip.

That was practically all it was, it wasn't full of "I love yous" and "let's get married" it was a text on her phone, with a random contact name saying "tonight after practise❤️💦 xx".

In the beginning it was an occasional glance, or a flirty smile or even a hip brush, but never what it became.
He would come in, ready to teach and he could feel her eyes on him. She would ask him for help with choreography and they would stay late, soon dropping her home and ending up driving to his apartment to have a drink and end up kissing.

That was until they began to sneak around in the studio. Secretly stealing kisses in the corridors and him asking her to help demonstrate a lift and his hand groping her body.
They both knew that they could of easily stopped it, she could go to dance and go home each night and he could teach choreography and go for a drink and then teach again in the morning. They could of both just had an easy routine.

But that's not the routine they both had.
Their routine was staying later until everyone was gone and leading her to his car, making their way to his back seat, leaving a few marks on each others necks, driving to his place, texting her mom that she was going to a friends for homework, him stroking her thigh, finally reaching his place, climbing the stairs, entering his bedroom, clothes being removed, more marks being left, lying down on to his mattress, making love, lying in bed for a while, her getting up, her leaving, him driving her home, stopping at some random car park to leave even more marks, him finally reaching her house, kissing goodbye, going to bed, texting each other, saying goodnight and repeat.

It was nothing special, pretty much just a song set on replay. But they couldn't stop. No matter how hard they tried, and no matter how many times they tried to convince themselves it was wrong they always ended up replaying the song once again.

He could of got himself a girlfriend, someone he could settle in with and live a full life but he wanted her. Even if he told him self he only wanted her for the sex he always made his way back to her. And the opposite way around.
Many boys and the studio took a liking to her, why wouldn't they? She could easily go on a date with one of them and finally getting a long term boyfriend but it didn't feel right.

If the both of them were to look into the future, they would see eachother. They were too attached, and soon it would come back and bite them.

They could keep their "relationship" and maybe some point in the future settle down but they both knew.
It was only sex.

A/n: ew this was terrible and so short but here you go read this poop xx