gay one shots | ✔️

shot six: the lesbians from upstairs

The stomp-like noises continued upstairs, and I swear I could hear a cat yelp as someone slammed a door. I sighed. The people in this apartment complex could be crazy. I don't know what kind of activity was taking place, but it did not sound quite so enjoyable.

"Jon!" I heard Felix call from the kitchen. "Do you hear them too?"

I laughed and then responded. "Yes! They're so loud!"

I came out of the bathroom after washing and drying my hands and saw Felix stirring something that smelled like Italian wedding soup. I walked across the studio apartment to see what was in the pot, wrapping my arms around his waist.

"I'm making Italian wedding," he murmured.

I hummed. "I know. It smells delicious."

More bangs from upstairs. "Damn, you'd think they were having a party up there, but there is a definite lack of music."

I chuckled. "Yeah. Maybe they're the lesbians that everyone has warned us about."

"Oh dear God!" He sniggered, and I kissed his cheek, settling my chin on his shoulder. He looked over and kissed my forehead, and I giggled. As he continued stirring, he started laughing again.

"Whaaaaat..." I said lazily, and he kissed my forehead again.

"What if they are the lesbians that everyone has warned us about?"

"I dunno, they seem to be having trouble with something. Why don't I go up and see if they need some help?"

"Okay. Invite them over for dinner if you want, there is way too much soup."

I giggled, and opened the front door, smirking before closing it behind me. I scaled the stairs and heard yet another cat's yelp, and I winced. I hope they weren't hurting the cat in any way. I got to their level, and then looked at their door. It had a nice little rug in front with a little worn out peace sign, and there were two pairs of hiking shoes to the side of the door, most likely drying because of the newspapers they were stacked upon. I grinned as I ran a hand through my hair, and knocked on the door.

I clutched the sleeves of my orange knitted jumper and worried if I looked too gay in my black skinny jeans. What if they weren't the lesbians from upstairs? The door opened to a tall woman, probably around the age of twenty-two who donned loose acid washed jeans and a blue and green flannel. Her hair was tucked into a messy man bun, and her lips held a sympathetic smile.

"Hi, I'm Courtney," she extended her hand. "Are you here to complain about the noise?"

"I'm Jon." I shook her hand and smiled at her. "Not to complain, actually, but to ask if you needed any help? It sounded like you were moving something or other?"

"Kinda, but my girlfriend got some new toys for our cats and we've been moving some furniture..." her voice trailed off as she spoke, and she seemed like she was suddenly all too aware of her flannel, girlfriend, and cats, and her cheeks were burning up.

I grinned, all too aware of my skinny jeans and fitted t-shirt. "I love cats!"

"Haha... that's... that's great..." she stumbled over her words awkwardly. "You're okay with me having a girlfriend, right?"

"Yeah, of course, I have a boyfriend myself, who is actually, right now cooking way too much Italian wedding soup, and would like to know if you guys wanted to come over for dinner."

She smiled. "Sure! Do you know about the whole 'Lesbians from Upstairs' thing?"

I nodded. She went on; "Well, that's me and Sam. Would you like to come in and meet the gang?"

I smiled, and she showed me in. It was the epitome of what you'd expect a lesbian couple's house to be—in terms of stereotypes.

There were three cats sleeping on a weirdly positioned large brown couch, and two cats rolling around viciously next to another twenty-two ish-year-old woman who was reading a book.

Her pixie was messy, and she wore a band shirt and overalls and was stroking a cat, her glasses sliding down her nose as she read her book.

"Sam..." Courtney said, and the woman looked up.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, you know how one can get lost in a book..." she ran a hand through her hair and pushed her glasses up her nose where they began their slow descent again.

"And who is this flaming queen we have here, Courtney?"

"SAM!" She cried, but seeing as I'd begun laughing hysterically, she chuckled.

"So sorry about Sam, she thinks that—"

"All gay men are queens, yes I do."

I blushed. "Well, I'll take that as positively as I can."

"Please do. I don't mean to stereotype," Sam grinned, bookmarked her page, and extended a hand. "Hi, as you can tell, I'm Sam. Who do I have the pleasure of meeting today?" The eccentric young woman grinned.

"I'm Jon," I shook her hand and grinned back. I was liking these 'Lesbians from Upstairs.'

"Nice to have met you. I'm sorry about not looking up earlier, words can really grasp you can't they?"

"I've experienced that too many times myself, it's no problem."

"So, Jon invited us to have some soup, are you interested?" Courtney sighed, wringing her hands nervously. 

"Is this true?" Sam smiled at me, and I nodded.

"My boyfriend made too much, and when we heard your cats, I thought you were moving furniture and was going to ask if you needed any help. He asked me to invite you guys over."

"We were moving furniture, actually, that's what the noises were. But the cats were in the way, that's why the couch is positioned so weirdly. But, soup sounds great! We can bring wine."

"Ooh, yes, we've been saving a rosé forever," Courtney grinned, and I smiled.

"Here, lemme give you my number," Sam said scribbling digits down on a sheet of paper. "Call when you're ready. We need to find the actual wine."

I chuckled and nodded. "I needed to set the table anyway. See you in a few, then," I wiggled my fingers in goodbye, flashed a grin and closed their front door behind me quietly.

********

"So, what did they say?" Felix asked when I came back in.

"Their cats were fooling around with some new toys or something, they were moving their couch, and they said they'd love to come over. Also, they're bringing wine."

"Nice!" He smiled. "Are they the Lesbians from Upstairs?"

I nodded and kissed him. He grinned and kissed back.