27 bandshirts || a metallica fanfic

2 - There's A Kirk In My Bedroom, Where He Belongs:

Kirk sighed too, the sudden gust of air making a curly tendril of his fringe flit about. He sat on my king-sized bed, black skinny jeans straining as he bent his legs. After I put on my earrings and shifted to get out of my chair, I caught his reflection staring at me in the full length mirror by my closet. One of my heart strings endured a firm yank.

“Imagine if people could see through there right now,” I pointed towards my room's window, the upstairs placement of my room meant that only the clouds knew of what secrets my bedroom held, “what would they think?”

“that your Dora underwear is pretty fucking adorable.”

I tentatively stopped myself from blushing, but the giggle that escaped didn't help to fake how unaffected I was. I walked over to my bed and picked up the dress that was laying next to him. White, with tiny, dainty blue flowers, a sweetheart neckline and puffy short sleeves. Classic, feminine and exactly what I had in mind a few moments earlier.

“Look away now, Hummus. I have to get dressed.”

Seconds passed by as we stared each other down. Kirk merely reclined onto his elbows, leaning back and getting comfortable as if he had no intention of not watching the show. Maybe he needs a 'show' to put him in his place, to show him what he wouldn't be able to handle.

My gaze remained unwavering as I untied the drawstrings of my pants. His face started to show a sign of uneasiness, but it was much too late for him. I stepped out of the bundle of sweatpants by my feet and picked up the dress again. Kirk's glazed honey eyes darted between the taut waistband of my panties and the smirk I had on my face. He seemed to realize that Dora wasn't present this time and the most inevitable grin revealed his cute, little teeth.

But boy, did I have more in store for him.

Knowing that the white, tanga thong exposed excessive amounts of my ass, I turned around, my smirk growing in intensity when I wasn't looking at him anymore. I had to bend a little to get my legs into the dress. That wasn't part of my plan at all, as I knew my more private lady parts would puff out between my thigh gap. I could've sworn I heard the breath hitch in Kirk's throat the moment it happened though. I couldn't say for certain that was the source of the sound, but whatever it was, it sounded sensual as fuck. I quickly glided the dress past my curves in fear that he would see how the dampness was spreading through my panties.

When the sleeves stood puffed up on my shoulders, I leisurely took two steps back, “zip me up?”

For a second I irrationally thought he'd say no, and I cursed myself for revealing myself like this to him in the first place. There was an unspoken agreement between us to ignore our more carnal desires, because our friendship was worth too much to have it disintegrate over a moment of frustrated weakness.

But then I heard shifting on the bed and a beer bottle being placed on the floorboards. His hands felt light on my hips, but he tightened his grip to pull me back another step. One of his fingertips ghosted over my spine all the way as he pulled the zipper up. Once it was complete and the safeness of the clothing eased my self-consciousness, I was about to turn around. Before I could do so, Kirk circled his arms around my waist and practically suplexed me onto my own bed!

I giggled hysterically as I tried to roll off his chest, my body dragging his black Marshall tank top to the side with me. He wasn't laughing like I was, but when I fell down next to him, I could see his smile - large, full of life, full of joy. I laid on my side with my head using his bicep for a pillow and pulled his tank top into its proper position, my hand using the excuse to rest on his abdomen.

“I'm sorry,” he murmured, finally turning his face towards me.

“For what?”

I caught a glimpse of his smile turning a little sad. His calloused fingertips reached to my cheek, sweeping my hair back so he could better see my face.

“I just don't like it when the other guys look at you the way I look at you.”

“Oh? And how do you look at me exactly?” I playfully flicked his nose, “can't say I've noticed.”

“I don't know, Dove... Like you're my person.”

His sincerity felt a bit too serious and heavy for me and I wanted to keep the mood light and nonchalant, “Awww, Kirky-Wirky... Bet you're wishing now that you just kept me in your basement forever and never introduced me to the guys.”

“Well... Yes, I do, to be honest. I mean, we're surrounded by way cooler people now than the friends we had in high school. I know it's probably dumb and territorial or whatever, but I'm scared... and I'm bracing myself for the moment you realize you could pick up a better best friend.”

“What the hell? I wouldn't do that,” I pressed a hand to his chest for support so I could prop myself up on one elbow, the ends of my curls brushing over his collarbone as I fixed my gaze on him, hoping he could sense the truthfulness in my words, “Heck, I can't do that. You know I can't, Kirk. You know I love you.”

And though I felt content with keeping it a secret, I also subconsciously hoped he could sense I meant those words in more ways than one. His heart rattled beneath my hand. Besides that, a shy smile was all he could produce. His fingers began to slide from my cheek into my hair, but I interrupted whatever his intentions were by getting up and off the bed.

“Converse or cowboy boots? You decide.” I made my way over to the closet again, away from him.