laying low in each other's arms
✍︎︎
twenty-four hours later, on the brink of noontime, elle added to her instagram story for the first time in a long time. her manager told her that a lot of people, especially her fans, are constantly on her page— trying to find out if she was okay or not, or if she was with drew or not.
and in already deciding to lay low, derrielle didn't post anything.
just a little something that showed a little self-care and quote-on-quote me-time.
which, in retrospect, is only a half-truth.
in reality, she is not in her bed. nor is she alone.
"me-time" her ass.
derrielle is in drew's hotel room. her body flushed against his, snuggling up in his warm blankets and egg-shell-colored comforter.
her head laying upon his bare chest and his chin perching peacefully on the top of her head; his arm wrapped tightly around her hips, her right leg strewn across his hips; his hand running its fingers through her hair as they watch dead poets society on the laptop securely placed on a pillow.
"i needed this," elle mumbles, her fingernail grazing on his arm in tight circles. her wrist is still a bit swollen even after the countless ice packs she put on it last night.
"this is nice," drew agrees, his voice low and tired as his body radiates a certain warmth. "are you sure mad-squared isn't going to report you missing if they barge in your room and not find you there?"
"they're more hungover than us, so i wouldn't worry," she says, leaning up and looking at him with adoring eyes. "unless you are planning on kidnapping me?"
he chuckles, his fingers reaching out and pausing the movie with a single press of the spacebar, "hopefully stockholm syndrome will kick in soon, it'll be easier." his eyes glancing down to her chest— how her supple breasts can be seen swaying from her movement and how her nipples are getting stiffer due to the rough fabric of his brown and beige flannel.
as he glances back up to meet those pretty eyes, her eyebrows are lifted and her head is tilted to the side, catching him in the act and already scolding him. "do you want me to take this off? it looks to be a distraction from the movie."
"mmhm," drew shakes his head, even though all he wants is to rip that off of her. "you look better in it than i do."
you know, for an actor, he really is a terrible liar.
"alrighty, if that's what you want," elle giggles under her breath before settling back down on his chest and reaching out to start the movie again.
"wait, wait, before you lay down again, i gotta use the bathroom," drew quickly leans up, grabbing her hips and playfully pushing off of him.
"drew! c'mon this part is really important!" she scolds him, as he gets out of the bed and walks into the restroom.
"i've seen it already! just keep watching, i'll be right out!" he laughs, shaking his head at his girl before shutting the door.
✍︎
as drew begins to wash his hands, his sweatpants' right front pocket starts to vibrate.
"what the?" he mumbles under his breath, quickly drying off his hands and turning off the sterling silver faucet before grabbing his phone and answering the call.
"hello?"
"drew? have you been sleeping all day?" chase replies into the other line, causing drew to look at himself in the mirror: his hair is messy; his eyes have a slight bag; his upper-body is shirtless, old hickies scattered on his chest, on his abs, and down towards his v-line.
"no, just really hungover. what do you want, chase?"
"do you know where elle is?!" madelyn suddenly yells into the phone, apparently he is on speaker.
"jesus," he cringes, pulling the phone away from his ear. "what part of hungover do y'all not understand?"
"sorry, drewsky," maddie laughs, "have you heard from her though?"
"last i heard from her is that she has a shit ton of meetings and work she has to get done. besides, she's a bit mad at me," drew lies through his teeth. "so, i don't know where she is."
it is only a half-lie, she was upset with him.
which then led them to having an argument.
and then angry sex at four in the morning.
"from last night? that cocksucker deserved more!" drew hears madison yell from farther away.
"i'm sure your manager told you to lay low because of last night but you have to go out again," chase says, taking him off speaker and bringing the phone back to his ear.
"what? who says that?" drew runs his fingers through his hair, frustration seeping through his bones.
"i do, dickwad. no, jonas and josh says so. they did a surprise visit, and i thought i should call you because you're an old man and you don't check your text messages."
"you're older than me, dickwad. and i got plans, i can't"—
—"sorry, pal, i'm afraid it's mandatory."
"fuck, okay," drew sighs in defeat, clutching the bridge of his nose. "thanks for letting me know, i-i'll see you later, stokes."
"of course, starkey," chase hangs up the phone, leaving an annoyed drew standing in his nice hotel bathroom.
"god fucking dammit."
shutting off his phone, he slides it back in his pocket, and opens up the door.
"hey, sorry, if i missed a lot. chase called me and now i have to—what's wrong elle?"
the sound of bagpipes booming out of the tiny surface speakers from the laptop as derrielle is hugging her knees and crying profusely.
"no, don't look at me," she sniffles, her shaking hands covering her red and puffy face. "i'm an ugly crier."
"that's not true," drew couldn't help but slightly chuckle at her before leaning down and shutting the computer off. "what's the matter?" he reaches out, gently grabbing her hands and taking them off her face.
"neil- he"- she chokes down another heart-wrenching sob. "he killed himself and he left his boyfriend todd all alone and"— the writer leans into the actor's chest, quickly wrapping her arms around his neck.
"haven't you seen this already? it's going to be alright, rielle," drew wraps his strong arms around her frame, hugging her back.
"yes, i know, but this movie is so good and i just get so emotional because i relate so much to neil, and i think my hangover is gone but i'm so sad," she rambles into his skin, her chest heaving up and down as she tries to control her emotions.
"okay, derry, i gotcha," drew grips her tight, easily lifting her up off the bed and towards the bathroom. "let's freshen up, lemme take care of you, boyfriend's honor."
once inside, he places her on the hotel granite countertop and starts the shower.
"is this our thing? bathrooms?" elle laughs as he unbuttons the flannel.
"sure, why not? it's the only place where we have privacy." drew laughs along with her, his hands finding the soft and exposed skin of her hips.
"can you stay this time? please, i always regret telling you to go," elle softly says, breathing in the steam that clings to the walls and fogs up the mirror.
"are you sure?" he backs away from her as elle shimmies off the counter and spins hims around so that he's facing the painting on the wall.
"yes, drew, i want you to stay," she leans up on her tippy toes, whispering in his ear as she strips herself of her tiny, black pajama shorts. walking to the shower, the tile cold against her feet, drew hears the curtain being pulled back.
"are you good?" he peaks over his shoulder only to be whacked in the face with his own shirt.
"uh huh," her laugh isn't well hidden under the loud sounds of the water hitting the floor tile. "just join me when you're ready."
not even minutes pass, although to derrielle it felt like an eternity, the tension building excruciatingly slow, just waiting for him to join her.
but when he does enter the small shower, she chooses to ignore— wondering what he will do.
leaning down, he presses a light kiss on her shoulder. his arms scooping underneath her chest so that his hands lay flat against the mid of her back; reeling her in so that his warm chest engulfs her.
turning them around so that they both share the same amount of water pressure, drew's back burning from the hot water diving into the scratches she gave him last night.
"lemme see that pretty face of yours," he states, grabbing her wrists and spinning her around.
"ow," the word slips from her mouth.
"shit, elle, i'm sorry," he apologizes, letting go of her wrist instantly. "did i hurt you?"
"no," she bites her bottom lip, looking up at him. water streaming down their faces. "you didn't."
eyebrows contorting, his hands pushing some wet mop of hair out of her worried face. "what do you mean?"
"while you were outside, i confronted cody about his behavior and he grabbed me a bit too hard."
"he what?" drew's voice drops to a dangerously low tone.
rafe mode activated.
"well, i put my hands on him first, only to push him away but—
— "but nothing, elle. he invaded your personal space and then he hurt you. why didn't you tell me?"
"i didn't want you to kill him," derrielle wraps her arms around his neck, pressing their chests together as his left hand caresses her head and his other hand falls near her backside.
- "you bet your cute ass," he squeezes her lower left cheek in a playful manner, "i will next time i see him."
playfully scolding him, she lightly taps the back of his neck. "but darling, you can't, i'm not having this argument again; not when all that hard work we both put in is on the line."
"i don't care, you're worth getting in trouble for."
"no," derrielle shakes her head. "i can't be."
years of mental and verbal abuse from her mother can have a toll on her precious self-esteem, the constant doubt and insecurities adding the trauma-induced trigger pile.
"yes, you are, darling," drew dismisses her, lifting up her chin to kiss her softly. he leans down further, dipping his head into the crook of her neck, then kissing her lower and lower until he's on his knees. "let me show you."
✍︎
fez speaking!!
thank you for 22K <3
i love every single one of you.
currently on the bus back to college </3,
i needed the much needed break.
hot guy is on the bus a seat over.
he literally looks like clark kent:
big, tall, veiny arms, big hands,
glasses, curly hair. his style bro>>
mf is wearing sweats and crocs 😩
ik ur mad ab getting robbed of angry seggs
but smut next chapter soo i don't really care.
and if drew sees cody, it's on sight!!
remember to vote and comment! <33