loveless // haylor au

chapter eleven

"she loves when everybody's watching,
she knows the way her body moves"

~

chapter eleven
the appetite problem

July 31st

The two weeks from Wes' going away party seemed to fly by, and before I knew it was the the last day of the month; the day Wes was leaving.

I didn't know whether to be thrilled or apprehensive.
Once Wes was gone, nothing was stopping me from shagging his ex constantly.

'Sir, your rings,' the short security worker at the airport commented, and I let an "oh" slip past my mouth as I remembered the tight pieces of silver wrapped around my fingers that would surely set of the metal detector.
I tugged them off and placed them into my tray, following Al through the detector, which didn't make a sound.

'How do you manage to do that every time?' Al chuckled, as we were met with our items at the end of the conveyor belt. I shrugged, pulling my grey beanie over my mess of hair.

It was early morning, and I'd spent the night working through the business plans, while Wes went partying with his work friends. He didn't get home till nearly four in the morning, and I had called Taylor to see if she wanted to come over, but she didn't reply. It had me checking my phone every couple of minutes to see if she had.

If I'd done something to piss her off, I had absolutely no inclination of what it could be. We hadn't been arguing at all. We didn't have time really, because I was practically fucking her into oblivion whenever we got the chance.
I did absolutely anything she wanted, when she wanted and how she wanted. I had her screaming my name, and begging for more.

Our last shag was against the door of her flat, when Ed wasn't home of course, and she literally broke the doorknob from squeezing onto to it so tightly when she came for the third time that day. I was bloody good at making her come, that was for damn sure.

Wes was right behind us in the line, and he was taking a bit longer to get his shit together, probably because he was hungover, but also because he didn't travel as much as Al and I. He stepped through the metal detector successfully, looking quite proud with himself for not setting it off.

It was really a bit of a fluke that Wes was leaving for Canada forty-five minutes before we jetted off to Brighton, to shoot for one of the biggest weddings we'd done. I was getting paid a shit load, so I didn't mind spending the extra money on a flight out.

'Which way do you have to go?' Al asked, grabbing at Wes' boarding pass, 'We're over in this terminal... hm, okay let's go this way.' Once we had our carry on items, we followed Al through to where Wes needed to be.

We sat with Wes for nearly an hour in his terminal, arms folded as we chatted, enjoying the presence of the other because it would be the last we got to spend for a couple of months, at least.

We played "catch" with a pair of Al's socks from his carry-on, until he missed and it rolled under some older woman's seat and Al had to awkwardly retrieve them, receiving a dirty scowl from the older lady. It had Wes and I in stitches.

When they called out for Wes' flight, he turned to me with an anxious looking grin, his eyes sort of downcast as I helped him with his carry on.