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Yearning for Our Unicity	By : LuluDreams Category: S through Z > YOU Views: 185 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: all characters belong just and only to the marvelous Caroline Kepnes, Netflix etc, I just own my sick ideas, lol

Chapter List
- 17
- 18
- 19
Summary:
Joe needs a new thrill.
Notes:
Setting: Between the end of 5x8 and first half of 5x9
I suppose that Bronte’s ankle took some days/weeks to improve, so this happens in that gap of time (when they were sooo happy together *sighs*)
Prompt: “Is this seat taken?” “That depends…”
WARNING: Smut. And explicit language.

Out of character

Joe’s POV

This place is so crowded, people are so noisy with their chatting out loud, there’s so much smoke from the dry ice of the cocktails on the counter that it’s almost foggy and there are way too dim lights.

So the main question is.. what the fuck am I doing here?

In my not so perfect life anymore at least I have the perfect girlfriend who’s waiting for me at home, just like she’s supposed to do, since it’s past 10 o’ clock in the night.
I don’t even know why I stepped in this lounge bar, in the first place.

Maybe I just needed a quick drink, so now that I had it I can go.

Just one more skittery glance at the crowd and…

Hello, you.

Sitting at the table in the left corner, all alone, just in the less illuminated corner.

But you’re so bright you don’t need any artificial light on you to catch attention.

My attention.
I take some step closer to look at you better, but still from afar.

Your blonde ringlets almost dare to fall on the sweetheart neckline of your dark blue sheath dress.
So heartbreakingly beautiful.
And you don’t even seem to be aware of that.
Around your slender neck there’s a long, thin silver necklace, just the right point of light.
You don’t like to draw much attention to yourself.
And yet you drew mine.

You seem so blankly and you look nervously around, debating whether you should call the waiter to place your order or wait a little longer for him to come to you.
You chose the second option, as you take your mobile, searching for some interesting notifications, but there’s none.

Instead my mobile chimes with a notification.
A text message from my girlfriend.

‘Where r u? Dinner’s getting cold? xo xo’

I type my answer as fast as I can, along with the speed of my mind to elaborate the lie.

‘Sorry, baby, eat without me. Big emergency with my lawyer, for you-know-what.’

I even forgot to put the ‘xo xo’.
Bad boyfriend.

And her answer arrives almost instantly.

‘Ooohhh, come back with good news! Fingers crossed. ILY.’

She’s so caring and I’m so awful.
Bad, bad boyfriend.

But it’s stronger than me, I can’t resist.

I put my mobile in my pocket and I go back checking on you.

You placed the mobile on the table as well, and you still look so bored.

By this evening. By life, too?

And you’re so alone.

Maybe you’re waiting for someone, or maybe not.

Maybe you’re waiting for me.

It’s just that you still don’t know it.

But you won’t have to wait for any longer.

I’m about to jump.

I head towards you, my self-confidence leading my steps.

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?”

Old but gold approach.

You raise your gaze to look at me, your doe eyes scanning me.

“That depends…” you reply, your finger toying with your curls as you stare at me.

You’re so totally flirting.

“Will you offer something to drink?”

“It will be a pleasure.” I smirk. “What do you prefer?”

“Sex on the Beach!”

But judging by the way you said that, it seemed more a wish than something to drink.

Sassy, eh? I like it.

“Be right back.” I wink at you, going to the counter, since the waiters don’t seem to show up.

Five minutes later I’m back to you with our drinks: Sex on the Beach for you, Old Fashioned for me.

I hand you your cocktail, but I pull my hand behind, before you can take it.

“Ah-ah. There’s a price to pay first: tell me your name.”

“I’m Debra, nice to meet ya.” You grab your cocktail, then shake my hand.

“Nice to meet you, Debra, I’m Julian.”

A white lie. Just to be prudent.

“Nice to meet ya, Julian. And what do you do for life?”

“I’m a financial broker. What about you?”

“Cool. I’m a fashion designer.”

“And you dare to say ‘cool’ about my job!” I chuckle.

My fake job, for the record.

Chronic liar.
Bad boyfriend.

“Then let’s say we both have cool jobs.” You smirk. “And I had to struggle a lot for mine. I don’t know if you figured it out, but I’m from Nuremberg, Germany."

Oh yes, I did notice, the accent is driving me crazy.

“Yep, just a little bit.” I wink.

And as we drink and you tell me about your life, how much you insisted on convincing your parents to let you go follow your dreams in L.A.; I can’t help wondering why the hell I’m here.

Truth is that I perfectly know why.
I missed this oh so much.
The vibes, the electricity.
The new feelings, all the possibilities.
I needed a new thrill.

“And what are you doing here in New York?” I ask you, my new thrill.

“I had to meet someone interested in buying my clothes, but it turned out it was a scam.” You snort.

“Oh, such bad luck, I’m sorry.” I try to lean closer to you, so much that I can smell your perfume.

An intense fragrance, as intense as your look.

“Well, not quite bad luck, if that has led me to meet you here tonight.” You smile, sipping your drink, as I’m doing with mine.

“Let’s have a toast to not quite bad luck, then!” I smirk, raising my glass.

“And also one to fleeting encounters."

“Uh?”

“I’m leaving tomorrow. I’m coming back to L.A. That’s my place. My life is there. But I could use a nice souvenir from the Big Apple.” You slowly lick your lips.

Not to mention how you lingered over the word ‘Big’.
Not to mention the foot you freed from your high heel that now is caressing my shin and going further up, hidden by the table and the dimly lit corner.

Oh, Debra, you’re flirting so badly!

Plus, you’re gonna leave tomorrow.

This means one night only.
No repercussions.
No truths to find.
My girlfriend will never know.
It’s the perfect crime.
Bad boyfriend, but smart.

“But tell me something more about ya, Julian, what exactly do you do in your job?”

Well, it’s not so easy to make my brain work, with your foot torturing the crotch of my pants.

I loosen the tie knot and take off the jacket.
It’s getting hot here.

“Uh, I advise my clients, acting aaas intermediary, I develop strategies and uh! I, I analyze markets…”

“Julian, mein Liebling, Would you like to… analyze my market?” You gently scratch the back of my hand, as the other one is caressing my face.

No more words are needed.

I grab your hand, dragging you with me in the bathroom.
We chose the male ones, which are more likely to be free.

I close the cabin door behind us and you grab me by the collar of my white shirt, smashing your lips against mine.
You were dying to do this the moment your eyes met mine.
I squeeze your boobs, still covered by the dress and you spank my ass twice.
You’re making me so fucking hard for you, Debra.
I lift your dress up and part your legs, my hand intruding between your thighs, as you moan in approval.

“Hurry up, ” You urge me, undoing my belt and caressing my cock through the trousers.

But it’s not enough, you pull the zip down, your hand crosses the border of my boxers and grab the object of your desire.
A pulsing, vibrating, meaty, more than awake object.

I said before I liked you sassy!

“Hurry the fuck up ya, New Yorker Stud!” You urge me even more, gently squeezing my cock.

You’re really craving me, Debra.

“As you wish, my Bavarian Filly!” I growl.

I pull your hand away, only to lower my pants and boxers as I roll your dress up, until I can lift your leg - I really appreciate the you’re wearing thigh highs- , putting my hand under your knee, to have a better angulation.

“Ja, bitte. Just take me, I’m yours, Julian!”

You don’t seem to want it gently and neither do I.

I use my free hand to pull your hair behind and kiss your neck, savagely, as I push my hard cock inside you, so hot, so ready for me, so…

“Oh yeaah, don’t stop, oh, Mein Gott, … Juu..oooe, Joe!”

What the fuck?

I instantly part from you.

“Geez, everything was so perfect, why did you have to spoil everything? Why did you have to go out of character?” I roll my eyes as I pull my boxer and pants up.

“I know, I know, my bad, but… you know that neck is my weakest spot, and if you kiss it like that I lose my mind!” You justify, as you lower the dress and take off the wig, since it’s not necessary anymore.

After all, I missed those red hair a lot.

“Anyway, it’s your fault, too, next time choose a character with a name not so similar to yours!” You accuse me.

“Words coming from DeB..ronte!” I strike back.

“Hey! That’s not true, it’s just a slight assonance! And it took me a lot of effort, with the accent and stuff!” You pout.

“Yeah, I must admit, the accent was chef’s kiss! And totally unexpected.” I clap my hands at you.

“The suit, the tie, the combed hair,” you murmur, caressing my hair, pulled behind with hairspray. “ I guess I have a thing for financial brokers…”

You pull me by the tie, kissing me.

“I see…” I smile, kissing you back.

“I was thinking…” You say, wearing your wig again. “After all this trouble, is there any chance we can get into character again?” You rub yourself against me, very sensually.

“Only if my character can get into yours!” I growl, smashing you against the wall as we devour each other in a passionate kiss.

“That’s exactly the plan!” You purr against my lips, clinging to me as I roll up your dress once more and part your legs.

As I push inside you, inch by inch and you adjust to my rhythm, our gazes never stop being locked, until we reach the orgasm, almost at the same time.

“Wundebar! Looks like Debra will go back to Los Angeles very satisfied!” You giggle, as we settle down, before finally leaving the bathroom.

“What? I was sure that after such a performance Debra would remain with Julian forever!” I smirk.

“After all Julian won’t have a girlfriend anymore for sure; not after he forgot to send the ‘xo xo’ back and didn’t even reply to her last text message!” You make me notice, but we’re both amused by that.

We leave the crowded bar, heading to my car.

“However, Bronte, next time I’m gonna pick the location. What kind of place did you choose? It was so kitsch!”

“Hey, don’t you dare to get squeamish with me, Bed-Stuy guy!” You put me back in my place.

“Touchè.”

“Besides, what do you have to complain about?” You go on as I set the car in motion. “We even had a table. At first I was planning something different, such as a discotheque and you should have picked up on me as we were dancing, on the dance floor. Standing, all time long. Would you be up for that, Mr. Old-Guy?” You tease me.

“What the fuck did you just say? Once we’re home I'll show you who’s an old guy!”

“Can’t wait!” You grin. “Pick a name.”

“What?”

“For next time. You’re right. We both need less assonance. I’ll go for Trisha.”

“Uh! I like it, it's very intriguing.” I wink at you, without losing sight of the road. “What do you think of Daniel?”

“That he could have more chances with Trisha if he’s British or Scottish.”

“Uh?”

“You heard me, those are the kind of guys Trisha prefers. So you’d better study and train your accent, you sneaky little shit.” You pat my thigh.

I can’t help smiling as I drive.

Oh, Bronte, things are never boring with you around.

--

THE END

Notes:
It would be nice if just for once you could take your time to answer:
- Did you buy it? Did you really think Joe was cheating on Bronte? ;P
I’ll tell you want, even I got so invested that i was really hating Joe all time long, despite I knew what was happening, LOL
- Trisha. Dan(iel)... ring any bells? LOL, I love Easter Eggs.
- Would you like to read again about this sort of kinky roleplay between them? Do you have any suggestions?
I guess you could easily picture how Julian!Joe looked (just think about him in early 5x1 when he’s dancing with Kate), about Debra!Bronte… here we go:
I just hope you had fun even half as much fun I had writing it ;P
See ya tomorrow with something extra fluff!
- 17
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- 19
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Yearning for Our Unicity

Summary:

Notes:

Notes: