No Resolve (Alex Gaskarth)

But a New Carpet Might

Eve and Alex are confronted by both sets of parents regarding Alex's erm, vigorous playing.

Otherwise known as the sequel to the Alex humping carpet fic that aweirdkindofyellow challenged me to write.

A series of loud thump-thump-thumps followed by the melodic warning sound of the fridge being opened.

These were sounds that currently had me seized up in horror and my gaze focused intently on the ceiling.

Because those familiar noises could only mean the inevitable.

That is, first, that my father was in the basement and, second, that he was gathering last evening's leftovers for an impromptu brunch.

Which, incidentally, means that both Alex and I would be asked about the, well, incident, that had occurred a few hours before. Because it was impossible not to have heard it, not with the way Alex's vocal cords had let themselves loose.

It was a confrontation, unsurprisingly, that neither I nor the sleeping man laid down on the—forever—tainted carpet were ready to face.

Especially not at the family table, in front of his parents, my own, brother, sister and niece.

Hopefully, the conversation wouldn't be as bad as my brain made it to be and, likewise, the trio would have the decency to eclipse themselves out by then.

Who was I kidding? With my parents and hison it, it was going to be equivalent to a shitstorm.

The moment I hear the door that leads to the ground floor close and my father's subsequent footsteps echo through the ceiling, a sudden urge to do damage control (as much as I could, anyway) courses through my veins.

Hence why I nearly leap off the mattress and rush to the light switch, the basement instantly lit by the panel lights.

"ALEXANDER WILLIAM GASKARTH, YOU BETTER WAKE UP RIGHT NOW OR I'LL REALLY GIVE YOU SOMETHING TO MOAN ABOUT!"

In response, the sleeping form groans in annoyance.

Which, out of my own, brings me to walk over to the edge of the carpet and stand over my husband, with my arms crossed over my chest and my teeth gritted.

As he senses my presence, Alex's eyelids first open, to blink a few times to adjust to the harsh lighting. Not yet accustomed, his eyes then move from left to right, until they eventually settle on me, his expression plummeting at my glare.

Oh, boy, did he know that he was in for one heck of a day.

But why not have fun with it, right?

"Might I say" he begins, as he puts his arms around his head in a sheer act of smugness, "that after last night's creative writing session, I have never felt so sexually relieved."

"Did you even write anything, or were you too busy moaning my name?"

"Hey," he barks, now with his back straight and his long legs elongated before him, "when I'm lost to the throes of passion, my body has no control over what it's doing."

"Clearly. Because I'm pretty sure that everybody heard you. My brother and sister, our parents, heck, even the little one."

"At least they'll know that we're not deficient in the sex department."

At his explicitness, my face scrunches up in revulsion.

"You' re a disgusting bastard, you know that right?"