*GATOR'S POV*
Gator spent the day exactly how he promised he would: resting in bed, not doing a damn thing unless he had to.
The pain in his head dulled enough at some point that he actually managed to sleep for a few hours. It was a nice, dreamless sleep that he felt surprisingly rested from.
When he finally woke up later that morning, it was to the sound of something soft and melodic. It felt distant at first, like it was coming from somewhere outside the room.
He blinked his eyes open, squinting against the morning light shining into his room. His head still ached and there was a constant pressure behind his eyes, but it wasn't nearly as bad as before. His vision came into focus quicker this time too.
But he could still hear the sound coming from somewhere.
It was faint and gentle, almost like... singing? That didn't make sense.
He frowned slightly, glancing around the room like that was somehow gonna help him figure it out. For a second, he wondered if he was still half-asleep. Or if the concussion was finally starting to mess with him.
Then he spotted his phone where he'd left it.
Gator reached for it, bringing it closer to his face, blinking until the screen stopped blurring together. He tapped it, and the call screen popped up.
ONGOING CALL: CROCODILE
04:36:52
"...oh," he muttered.
Right. He'd asked her to stay on the phone with him.
He stared at the screen for another second, a little surprised the call hadn't dropped. Or that she hadn't hung up on him hours ago.
He brought the phone up to his ear, about to say something, but stopped. Now that it was closer, he could hear it more clearly.
It was Maggie.
She was quietly humming and singing to herself in that soft, absentminded way people do when they don't think anyone's listening. There was a faint clatter in the background, like dishes or something, and her voice drifted in and out as if she was moving around with him on speaker.
Gator's mouth pulled into a small, tired smile as he let his head fall back against the pillow, just listening to her for a moment.
He didn't recognize the song, but it didn't matter. It was more about the way her voice sounded so easy and unguarded. It was a side of her he didn't get to see often.
In fact, it was something he wasn't sure anyone else got to see at all.
After a minute, he finally spoke up, his voice still rough with sleep.
"Maggie?"
Her singing stopped immediately. "Oh—shit. Hang on."
There was a quick shuffle of noises before her voice came back closer this time.
"Hey," she said. "You're up. How'd you sleep?"
"Alright," he mumbled. "Better than I thought."
He paused before adding with a little smirk, "You just gonna act like I didn't hear all that?"
"...hear what?" she responded, trying to play dumb.
He huffed a quiet laugh. "You singin'. Thought I was losin' my mind for a second."
"Oh god," she groaned softly. "You could hear that?"
"Yup," he said, dragging the word out just enough to tease her. "Loud and clear."
"That is so embarrassing," she muttered. "I got up a bit ago and started doing dishes, so I put you on speaker. Didn't even think about it."
"Well," he said, shifting slightly against the pillow, "don't stop on my account. Wasn't a bad way to wake up."
"Ha," she let out a short, disbelieving laugh. "Yeah, okay. Real funny."
"I'm serious. You got a nice voice," he said, more genuine this time.
There was a brief pause on the other end.
"Hm," she hummed. "Well... don't get used to it. That was a one-time thing."
Gator smiled faintly, his eyes still half-closed as he stared up at the ceiling. "Guess I'll consider myself lucky then."
"Someone's a sweet talker today. You sure you didn't hit your head harder than they thought?" she teased.
"Probably did," he muttered. "Would explain a lot."
That got a soft laugh out of her.
"So," she went on, "how are you feeling, really?"
"Better," he said honestly. "Head still hurts, but it ain't as bad. Haven't tried gettin' up yet though."
"Okay, that's good," she replied quickly. "You don't need to push it."
He adjusted the phone against his ear, hesitating a second. "Hey... uh, thanks. For stayin' on the phone."
"Gator," she said, like it should've been obvious. "Of course. It wasn't a big deal."
"I know, I just—" he stopped himself, exhaling quietly. "Means a lot."
Her voice softened a little. "I know. I needed it too."
He sat with that for a moment before changing the subject. "You eat yet?"
"Yeah, a little bit ago," she said. "What are you gonna have?"
He glanced toward the small kitchenette across the room. "Think I got some protein bars somewhere."
"...Gator."
"What?" he asked, already knowing where this was going.
"That's not food."
"It counts," he muttered.
"No, it doesn't," she pushed. "Do you have anything real to eat? Eggs, bread, literally anything?"
He dragged a hand down his face. "Maybe. Haven't looked yet."
"Well, you should," she said. "You need actual food, especially right now."
"I'll figure it out," he replied. "If not, I'll go over to the house later. They'll probably all be out doin' church shit anyway."
She went quiet at that, thinking it over.
"...okay," she said finally, but he could still hear it in her voice. She didn't like that plan.
There was a short pause before she spoke again, quieter this time.
"What do you think Roy's gonna do when he sees you again?"
Gator's jaw tightened. He stared up at the ceiling, biting the inside of his cheek.
"I dunno," he said after a second. "Either finish the job... or act like nothin' happened."
He said it casually, like it was just how things were.
"What?!" Maggie's voice sharpened immediately. "You think he's gonna try to kill you again?"
Gator shrugged, even though she couldn't see it. "With him, you never really know. Could've been me. Could've just been the mood he was in."
"He would practically kill you just 'cause he's in a bad mood?" she asked, disbelief creeping into her voice.
"When it comes to Nadine?" Gator let out a quiet breath. "Yeah. Wouldn't be the first time he lost it over her."
She hesitated before softly asking, "Why are you so calm about this?"
Gator shifted slightly, wincing as the movement sent a dull throb through his head. "'Cause I'm used to it," he said simply. "Ain't ever been that bad before, but it's not new."
He paused, then added a little more carefully, "I mean... you know how it is."
"Yeah, I do," she said, almost under her breath. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."
"Yeah," he muttered. "Me neither."
The silence after that felt different. He could feel her thinking, even through the phone.
"Gator..." she started.
He hummed in response.
"Come live with me."
For a moment, he thought he heard her wrong.
His heart beat hard in his chest.
"...what?" he asked in disbelief.
"I mean—you don't have to, like, live with me live with me," she rushed to clarify. "I can help you find your own place here, or... hell, somewhere else entirely. I don't care where, just get out of Lehigh. Please."
He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry.
A week ago, they were barely on speaking terms other than a few text exchanges. But now, here she was asking him to leave everything behind and come live with her.
"You want me to move in with you?" he asked again, still trying to wrap his head around it.
"I mean..." she let out a small, awkward laugh. "Feels a little fast to be making life decisions together when I'm still not sure I even like you half the time."
There was a teasing edge to her tone, but he could still hear the nerves underneath.
He let out a quiet laugh at that. "Can't blame you."
"But if it gets you out of there?" she went on, her voice softening again. "Yeah. I want you to stay with me."
That hit him harder than he expected.
Gator rubbed a hand over his forehead, staring at nothing as his mind tried to catch up.
"Shit..." he muttered, still bewildered. "Uh... I don't even know what to say to that."
There was an awkward silence before she continued.
"Just—nevermind," she said quickly, backtracking a little. "It was dumb. I know it's way too soon, and we're still figuring shit out, I'm just—"
"No, hey," he cut in, pushing himself up a little before settling back again when his head protested. "Stop."
She went quiet.
"Are you kiddin'? I fuckin' love that idea," he said, more firmly now. "And the fact that you even asked..." He shook his head a little while a faint, disbelieving smile spread across his mouth. "Feels like I'm dreamin' or somethin'."
There was a pause, like she didn't quite trust where this was going.
His smile faded a little as reality crept back in.
"I just, uh..." he hesitated, choosing his words more carefully now. "I don't know how I'd make that happen right now."
Maggie let out a frustrated breath. "Are you serious? What could possibly still be keeping you there after what he just did to you?"
Gator's jaw tightened again. He blinked slowly at the ceiling, the ache in his head starting to build back up again.
"I just gotta make sure he doesn't try anything if I leave," he said carefully.
"What does that even mean?" she pressed. "What could he possibly have on you, Gator?"
Everything. Gator thought to himself, but didn't say out loud.
"I don't wanna get into it right now, Mags," he said instead. "Not over the phone."
She let out a short, bitter laugh. "No. Of course not."
Gator closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as the headache pushed in harder. He didn't have it in him to fight with her right now.
"Look," he said, his voice a little more tired now, "I should probably get up. Find somethin' to eat. Take some Tylenol, maybe shower." He paused, trying to keep his tone even. "I'll call you back in a bit, alright?"
There was a second of silence.
"Okay," she said in a short, annoyed tone.
He winced slightly at it.
"Alright... I'll talk to you soon," he said, more awkward than he wanted to sound. "Bye, Mags."
"Bye."
The line went dead before he could say anything else.
Gator stared at his phone for a second, then let it drop onto the bed beside him. He dragged both hands over his face, exhaling slowly through his nose.
Yeah... that could've gone better.
He knew she had a right to be pissed. Hell, if it were the other way around, he'd be sayin' the same exact shit. Didn't make it any easier to deal with, though. Especially when he didn't have a real answer for her.
Seemed like he never did lately.
Conflict had never exactly been his strong suit. Most of his past relationships either burned out fast or turned into shouting matches until one of them walked away. There wasn't much in between, and he didn't have the energy for that right now.
Especially not with Maggie.
So he did what he always did when things started heading that way; he pulled away.
Gator pushed himself up slowly as the dull throb in his head picked up again. The room spun just slightly, enough to make him pause, but thankfully it stopped after a second.
He sat there, waiting it out, then reached over and grabbed a protein bar off the nightstand. He tore it open and ate it without thinking, staring blankly at the wall.
Once he finished, he forced himself to his feet and slowly crossed the room, grabbing a bottle of water from the counter before heading into the bathroom. He opened the medicine cabinet, shook a couple Tylenol into his hand, and swallowed them dry.
Then he reached up and peeled the bandage off his temple.
He knew he wasn't supposed to get the stitches wet, but he figured he'd just swap it out after the shower.
He turned his head slightly, looking at himself in the mirror.
"Jesus fuck..." he muttered. He looked like shit.
The stitches cut straight through the lines he usually kept buzzed into his temple, red and raised against his skin. The bruising had spread overnight, darkening along the side of his face and creeping toward his eye and cheek. Paired with the shadows under his eyes, he looked like he hadn't slept in days.
He let out a quiet breath, shaking his head.
Probably a good thing Maggie couldn't see him like this.
He turned the shower on and stepped in, keeping the water warm. He cleaned off the last of the dried blood and dirt, careful around the stitches, then just stood there for a while, head tipped down as the water hit his back.
It helped his body. But it didn't do shit for his head.
Maggie's voice kept replaying instead.
Come live with me.
He closed his eyes, jaw tightening slightly.
He'd spent his whole life telling himself he wasn't going anywhere. Lehigh was it for him. Didn't matter if he liked it or not.
But now?
Now he couldn't stop thinking about it.
Especially now that he had a taste of what it could be like. Waking up in her bed. Doing normal shit, like making dinner, running errands, just... being somewhere that didn't feel like it was closing in on him all the time.
He desperately wanted it all. But wanting something and actually making it happen were two completely different things.
Roy wasn't just gonna let him walk. Didn't matter what happened the night before. If anything, that probably just made things worse.
Gator scrubbed a hand down his face, letting out a slow breath.
What if he just left anyway? Packed his shit, didn't say a word, and just disappeared. Just like his mom and Nadine did. Would Roy even bother tracking him down again?
For a second, it almost felt that simple.
Then Nadine came to mind and how well that was turning out for her.
Gator knew better than anyone that Roy didn't let things go. And if he didn't come after Gator... he might go after someone else.
His stomach turned as the pressure in his head started building again.
"Alright," he muttered under his breath. "That's enough."
He shut the water off before his thoughts could spiral any further.
After he dried off, he wrapped a clean bandage over the stitches, pulled on a pair of sweats, and made his way back into the main room.
He checked the kitchenette again, more out of obligation than anything else, and managed to have all the components to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
Good enough.
He took it back to the bed, sitting down carefully before stretching out again, keeping his head angled so it didn't press directly against the sore spots.
After a couple bites, he grabbed his phone and sent a quick text to the guys at work, letting them know he wouldn't be in today. Thankfully, they wouldn't ask questions. They knew better.
When he finished eating, he just stared up at the ceiling. It seemed like he'd be doing a lot of that today.
What the hell was he supposed to do if he couldn't work, drink, or even be on his phone for long? Maggie was probably right. He needed a hobby. But that definitely wasn't starting today.
The only thing he could think of was watching TV. That probably wasn't allowed either, but he figured he could bend the rules a little.
He didn't have a TV in his room, but he had his laptop. Problem was, he had no idea what to put on.
Then it hit him. He and Maggie had started watching Breaking Bad. But there was no way in hell he was watching that without her.
He hesitated, thinking back on their conversation, and he didn't like how they'd left things.
She was the only one checking in on him, making sure he was okay and didn't do anything stupid, and he'd gone and shut her out anyway.
It left this lonely, hollow feeling inside him.
Gator grabbed his phone again, blinking against the brightness as it hit his eyes. He pulled up her contact, noticing it had been a little over an hour since they hung up.
He hesitated, then typed before he could overthink it.
GATOR: wanna watch breaking bad ?
He tossed the phone beside him and reached for the laptop, turning it on. He figured he'd at least try to find where the hell the show was while he waited.
Within a few minutes, she texted back.
MAGGIE: You're not supposed to be watching TV. Or using your phone.
He smirked.
GATOR: what else am i gonna do
MAGGIE: I don't know. I'm sure you can figure something out.
He could practically hear the annoyed tone in her voice, but that wasn't gonna stop him.
GATOR: come on. watch w me
GATOR: u kno im gonna do it anyway
He saw the read receipt pop up, but no reply came with it.
Gator waited a minute, clicking around on the laptop again, already getting irritated with whatever site he'd landed on.
"Why the hell do you gotta pay for everything..." he muttered under his breath.
Another minute passed, but still nothing.
He exhaled, grabbed his phone, and just called her.
She answered after a few rings.
"You just can't take no for an answer, can you?" she said without even saying hi.
Yep, she was definitely still irritated. It only amused Gator more though.
"Not when it comes to you," he teased. "And technically, you didn't say no."
"I didn't say yes either," she shot back. "I'm not gonna be the reason you make your head worse 'cause you won't listen to the doctor."
"Mags," he said, softer now, "it's just TV. I ain't doin' anything crazy. I'll keep the screen back, and take breaks. Promise."
She didn't answer right away. He could hear her breathing, like she was thinking it over.
"Please," he added, quieter this time. "Just... keep me company."
Still silence.
He nudged her a little more. "Wasn't that the whole reason you took the day off?"
"That was before I remembered how stubborn you are," she muttered.
He chuckled. "Well, ain't that the pot callin' the kettle black."
"I'm not stubborn," she said defensively.
"No?" he smirked. "Could've fooled me."
"You're on thin ice, buddy," she warned, though there wasn't much threat to it now.
"Alright, alright," he said, easing back. He let out a small breath, his tone shifting slightly. "Hey, 'bout earlier... I didn't mean it to come off like I'm not interested," he went on. "I appreciate your offer. Really."
There was a pause.
"I just need a little time to think about it," he added. "Figure out how I'd even make somethin' like that work."
She hummed softly, not fully convinced, but listening.
"And for the record, the idea of livin' with you sounds too fuckin' good to be true." He paused and smirked. "Don't think we'd get much sleep."
That got a quiet laugh out of her. "That's not the point."
"I know," he said. "But I ain't gonna pretend that part wouldn't be a bonus."
"I can't disagree with that," she said, but her tone had softened now. "I just want you safe, Gator."
"I know," he repeated. "I hear you."
That seemed to settle it enough, at least for now.
He shifted, glancing back at his laptop. "So... you gonna help me out or what? I can't find this damn show anywhere."
"You don't have Netflix?" she asked, a little amused now.
"Never needed it."
She laughed. "Good lord, you really do live like a caveman."
"Hey," he said, smirking. "I've had other things keepin' me busy."
"Oh, I'm sure you have," she teased.
He leaned his head back, voice dropping just a touch. "Guess you're gonna have to educate me."
There was a pause, and he could practically hear her smile on the other end.
"I might have a few things I could teach you," she said.
"Don't tempt me," he murmured. "You keep talkin' like that, I'm gonna forget all about this concussion."
She laughed again, softer this time.
"I'll give you my login," she said. "Just don't mess it up."
"No promises."
She walked him through it, step by step, and after a couple wrong clicks and a few muttered curses on his end, he finally got it pulled up.
"Alright," he said. "What episode?"
She told him, and they counted down together before hitting play.
Gator settled onto his side, keeping the laptop a little farther back like he said he would. His phone stayed by his ear, attention drifting between the show and the quiet sound of her just being there with him.
They watched like that for a while, talking here and there with little comments or reactions. Nothing big, really.
Halfway through another episode, Gator said something, turning his head slightly toward the phone. But he didn't get an answer.
He smiled to himself, realizing she probably fell asleep. He reached over and closed the laptop as he shifted back into the pillow.
He didn't hang up, he just kept the phone there by his ear, listening to her breathe, the same way she'd done for him earlier.
It didn't take long before his eyes slipped shut. And just like that, he was out again.
By the time he woke up again, it was starting to get dark in his room.
Gator didn't move right away. He just blinked slowly, letting himself come back to reality. His head felt heavy, but not as bad as before.
Then he felt the phone still resting near his hand.
He picked it up, squinting at the screen.
ONGOING CALL: CROCODILE
03:52:12
A faint smile tugged at his mouth.
"...Mags?" he said quietly, his voice still rough with sleep, careful not to wake her if she was still out.
She didn't answer back.
He listened for a second, holding the phone a little closer, but all he heard was the soft, steady sound of her breathing on the other end.
Gator pushed himself up slowly, taking advantage of the moment while he could. His body protested a little as the ache settled back into his head as he moved, but it wasn't enough to stop him.
He made his way to the bathroom, took a piss, then grabbed another bottle of water and a couple more Tylenol on his way back. He lingered at the counter for a second, debating it, before forcing himself to throw together another sandwich.
He didn't really want it. But it was better than dealing with anything, or anyone, outside that room.
When he finished, he went back to the bed, easing himself down again. He finished off the rest of the water, and set it aside.
His room was quiet, but it didn't feel as empty now. Not with Maggie still on the phone with him. Everything about her just brought him a sense of calm.
He thought back to her offer again.
Gator had never really lived with anyone before. The second he turned sixteen, Roy shoved him out into the guesthouse. But back then, he didn't even mind. It felt like freedom to him. No one breathing down his neck or watching his every move.
And ever since, he just... stayed.
It was just easier to be close by whenever Roy needed something. He still had to pay his own rent and the occasional groceries, but it was cheap enough that he really had no reason to move out. Even with past girlfriends, he'd always preferred having his own space.
But man, the thought of living with Maggie had gotten stuck in his head, and now he couldn't shake it.
Before, it had always been about the chase. Getting under her skin. Pushing until she finally gave in.
He'd never really let himself think past that.
Now, all he could think about was their future together.
Weekends spent doing nothing. Arguing over dinner and then laughing about it ten minutes later. Holidays that didn't feel tense, spent with just the two of them. A place that actually felt safe... like home.
It was all simple. Boring, even.
And he wanted it more than anything. Just thinking about it had his heart racing with excitement.
He closed his eyes, letting his mind drift.
He pictured bringing her coffee in bed, setting it on the nightstand as she slowly woke up. Surprising her with flowers on a random Sunday afternoon with no reason behind it. Late nights on the couch, TV playing in the background while she dozed off in his lap. Carrying her to bed when she couldn't keep her eyes open anymore.
He imagined himself coming up behind her while she did dishes at the sink, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her back into him. His mouth pressing soft kisses down her neck. He could hear her pretending to be annoyed before giving in and melting into it.
The fantasy deepened as he pictured his hand wandering down over her stomach and slipping into her shorts, teasing her slowly. Then, he'd pull her shorts down and have his way with her right there in the kitchen.
He was so lost in his thoughts that he barely realized his hand had moved in real life, rubbing his dick over the fabric of his sweats. Just thinking about a life with her had him hard already.
He continued to imagine bending her over the sink, his hand on her throat, her body arching as she moans and begs him to give her more.
He slipped his hand under the waistband of his sweats, carefully stroking his cock. A small, involuntary moan escaped him. He knew he probably shouldn't be doing this while Maggie was still on the line, but the thought of her waking up and hearing what he was doing was too tempting to resist.
Still, he tried to keep his sounds to a minimum. Worst case, he'd take care of it and she'd never know. Best case...
His jaw tightened slightly at that thought.
Reaching over, he grabbed some lotion off the nightstand, and slipped back into his fantasy. He stroked himself slowly to help him last a little longer.
He imagined her calling him filthy names, acting like she didn't want it while her body betrayed her, pressing into him with every imagined thrust. The thought of her desperate, needy voice alone made him moan again, louder this time.
Suddenly, her soft, sleepy voice came from his phone.
"Gator?"
He abruptly stopped stroking himself and picked up the phone with his other hand.
"Hey, baby," he said in a deep, rough tone.
"You okay?" she asked softly, sounding cute and innocent.
"Yeah... I'm great," he mumbled.
"Hm," she stopped to yawn. "I thought I heard something. I was worried something was wrong."
He let out an airy chuckle. "Yeah, you probably did."
He began stroking himself again, and took in a sharp breath. His breathing was already pretty heavy, so there was no way she couldn't hear it from her end.
They were both quiet for a moment. He wasn't sure if she was still waking up or just trying to figure out what he was doing. Maybe both.
After a minute, she finally asked, "Are you... jacking off right now?"
A small smile spread over his face. "Would it turn you off if I said yes?"
She hesitated, then whispered, "No."
His smile grew into a cocky smirk. "Then, yeah. I am."
"Oh," she whispered to herself.
She went silent for another moment, making Gator start to worry that maybe she wasn't into it as much as he'd hoped.
"I can stop," he said, a twinge of insecurity in his tone.
"What?" she said, surprised. "No, don't stop. That's... so fucking hot. I just like listening to the sounds you make."
He let out a relieved moan and stroked a little harder. "Yeah? You like that?"
"Yeah. That's such a turn-on," she whispered, almost breathless. "What are you thinking about?"
"Fuckin' you in your kitchen," he said without hesitation.
"Oh yeah? What are you doing to me?" she breathed, and his grip tightened.
"Bendin' you over the sink, takin' you from behind," he said. He wasn't sure how far they were going with this, especially since they'd never done anything like this over the phone before. But he didn't want to stop.
"What else?" she squeaked.
Oh yeah, there was no going back now. His breathing grew even heavier.
"My hand's on your throat. You're calling me an asshole, pretending you don't want it, but I know you do," he said, his voice taunting her. "You want me to fuckin' ruin you, don't you, princess?"
"Yes... please..." she breathed.
"Yeah, you do," he said smoothly. "I bet you're already soakin' at the thought, aren't you?"
"Yeah," she whispered.
He let out a breathy moan. "Are you touchin' yourself, sweetheart?"
"Mhm," she admitted, a soft moan finally escaping.
He chuckled. "Don't get shy on me now. Tell me."
"I'm touching myself... I'm so wet, Gator. I want you so badly," she said, her voice dripping with desire. He slowed his pace, wanting to make it last as long as possible.
"Tell me what you're doing," he murmured.
"Um... okay," she whispered. "I'm circling my clit slowly... imagining that it's your fingers." He hummed in encouragement to keep her going. "Now... I'm taking those same fingers and pinching my nipples, picturing you biting them."
Gator groaned. "God, you're fucking sexy. I wish I was there to suck your nipples. I bet they taste incredible with your cum on them."
Maggie just moaned in response, soft and needy.
"Come on, keep talkin' to me, baby. What'd you want me to do if I was there?"
"I'd want..." she started, but hesitated.
"Is my girl shy about talkin' dirty on the phone?" Gator teased.
"No," Maggie said stubbornly. "It's just... been a while."
"I get it. Just tell me what you're thinkin' about," he encouraged her.
"I'm thinking about you... standing here, watching me touch myself. Watching me get wet for you, knowing you can't touch me yet," she said, voice trembling a little.
"Yeah, you want me to watch you? You dirty little tease. I'd watch you any time you want."
"Yeah... I wanna drive you crazy. I wanna make you so desperate, you have no choice but to start stroking your cock," she whispered.
Gator sighed and added in a deep voice, "You don't even know how often I've imagined you walkin' in on me doin' that."
"Do it sometime," she purred. "I wanna see how you make yourself feel good when I'm not doing it for you."
Gator moaned at the thought. "Don't gotta tell me twice," he paused to catch his breath. "So... I'm watching you, stroking my cock. What happens next?"
"You can't take it anymore... so you come up and flip me over, so I'm on all fours on the bed. Just... on display for you to do whatever you want to me." She paused. "How would you play with me, Gator?"
"Fuck," he muttered, not knowing if he could be any more turned on. "I'd drop to my knees and eat you out from behind, tasting you and making sure you're dripping for me."
"Oh... yeah. That'd feel so good," she breathed.
"Then I'd line up my cock and fuck you hard, over and over, until you're moanin' and screamin' my name."
"Mhm," she murmured softly. It made his dick twitch as he stroked himself faster.
"I'm going hard and fast, and you reach back and put your hand on my stomach, trying to slow me down... but you're beggin' for more. You want it harder, don't you?" he said, breathlessly taunting her.
"Yes. I want you to take what's yours," she whispered.
He whimpered at that, then gritted his teeth. "Yeah... that's right. You're fuckin' mine. To please and fuck however I want." His pace quickened.
"I grab your arms, bend them behind your back, makin' you drop face-first into the bed. I slam into you, relentlessly... feelin' you tremble against me, beggin' me to let you come," he groaned, his voice starting to get ragged. "Fuck... I'm gettin' close. Are you?"
"Yeah... almost there," she whispered, her breathing heavy.
"I finally give you what you want. I wrap my arm around you... start playin' with your clit... your legs start to shake," he mumbled between fractured breaths.
"You know exactly how to touch me," she whispered, barely audible.
"Yeah, I do... Come for me, Maggie. Pretend that you're comin' so hard on my cock," he growled through gritted teeth, barely holding himself back from releasing himself.
"Oh... Gator," she moaned.
"Yeah, baby. Let yourself go," he urged.
"Fuck! Oh my god... I'm coming!" she moaned desperately into the phone and that was all he needed to push him over the edge.
"Ohhh fuuuck," he groaned as he came all over his stomach, stroking himself until there was nothing left.
They laid there for a while without saying anything, both of them breathing hard as they caught their breath. Gator stared at the ceiling in disbelief, a grin spreading across his face.
"You good?" he eventually asked, his voice rough and a little spent.
"Incredible," Maggie breathed. He could hear the smile in her voice. "You're so goddamn hot, it's unbearable."
He let out a low chuckle. "Yeah? Funny... I was just thinkin' the same thing about you."
She laughed quietly. "Maybe we shouldn't live together," she teased. "We'd never get anything done. We'd just be too busy having sex all the time."
Gator smirked. "You say that like it's a bad thing.".
"It's not," she admitted. "It's just... dangerous. You're kind of addictive."
He let out an amused breath through his nose. "You tryin' to butter me up for round two, or what?"
She laughed then, more openly this time. "No... as tempting as that sounds, I should probably clean up and make something for dinner. I'm starving after all that."
"Yeah," he muttered, glancing down at himself with a small shake of his head. "Same here. I'm a fuckin' mess."
"Mm," she hummed, her tone slipping back into something more playful. "Too bad I'm not there to help you with that."
The image of her leaning down over him and licking the cum off his stomach quickly flashed in his mind. He let out a quiet, breathy groan, eyes squeezing shut for a second.
"I'm fucked. I think you're gonna scramble whatever brains I have left."
She giggled softly, clearly pleased with herself.
"Go get cleaned up," she said, settling into a softer tone. "And eat something real, not just one of those sad protein bars. Call me later and we'll keep watching TV before bed."
"Alright," he said, still a little breathless. "Yeah... I can do that."
Before she could hang up, he stopped her. "Hey, Mags?"
"Yeah?" she asked, sounding a little concerned.
He hesitated for half a second, then pushed through it. "Thanks. For today. For... all of it." He swallowed, staring up at the ceiling again. "Even though you're not actually here, it's... I dunno. It's the most anyone's really taken care of me before. It's nice."
"Oh, Gator..." she said quietly. "It's no problem. Just imagine how much better I could take care of you if I was actually there."
There was something genuine in her voice. Whether she was being flirty or serious, he didn't care. He liked the sound of it either way.
"Yeah," he murmured. "I think about that more than I probably should."
The next morning, their little bubble didn't last. Reality had a way of creeping back in, and for both of them, that meant going back to work.
Maggie had tried to talk Gator into taking another day off to rest, but he knew himself well enough to know he wouldn't last. Sitting alone all day without her on the phone would've driven him up the wall.
And if he was being honest, that wasn't the only reason. He needed to see where things stood with Roy. Unfortunately, avoiding him wasn't an option.
He still had to keep the bandage on his temple for another day, but there was no way in hell he was walking into the station looking like that. He dug through his drawers until he found a black sweatband, stretching it between his hands before pulling it on.
It wasn't perfect, but it did the job well enough once he pulled his hat down over it. The pressure against the stitches made him wince at first, but after a minute it dulled into something he could ignore.
When he caught his reflection in the mirror, he paused. He still looked pretty rough.
The bruising was darker along his cheek, but if anything, it worked in his favor. Gator knew how to put on a good face at work. It made him look hard and mean, making it easier for people to fear him a little bit more.
By the time he pulled up to the sheriff's station, the headache was still there and the dizziness came in waves, but it was nothing he couldn't push through.
What he wasn't ready for was the sight of Roy's truck already sitting out front.
Gator's stomach dropped.
He sat there for a second with his hands stuck on the wheel, staring at the truck like he was imagining it. His mind ran through every possible outcome in a matter of seconds. None of them were particularly good.
For all he knew, walking in there could be the last thing he did.
He let out a slow breath, reached for his phone, and sent Maggie a quick text.
GATOR: made it to work
GATOR: love u
He shoved his phone back in his pocket, not waiting for her response. He just wanted to get that out there in case it was the last chance he'd get to say it.
He finally took a deep breath and stepped out of his truck. The air felt colder than it should've as he made his way inside, each step making his pulse beat out of his chest.
The second he walked through the door, he saw Roy at his desk, mid-conversation with Landon. Both of them looked up.
Gator swallowed, trying not to let an ounce of fear show on his face. He walked in like nothing had happened. Like he wasn't waiting to see if his own father was about to finish what he started.
Roy's eyes narrowed slightly as Gator got closer. There was a silent tension that settled heavily over the room, thick enough that even Landon shifted a little where he stood.
Roy looked him over and finally spoke up. "You look like shit."
Gator shrugged, stopping a few feet from the desk. "Had worse."
That wasn't entirely true, but it didn't matter.
A faint, almost entertained smile tugged at the corner of Roy's mouth, but there was nothing warm about it.
"Surprised you're not dead," Roy said, like he was commenting on the weather.
Gator met his gaze without backing down. "What can I say? Hard to kill."
Roy huffed quietly, studying him like he was watching an injured animal that refused to stay down.
"You're resilient," he said after a second. "I'll give you that. Like a damn cockroach."
Gator didn't react. He didn't even so much as blink. He just held his stare with cold eyes.
He knew what Roy was doing. He was pushing him, waiting to see if he'd crack, but Gator wasn't giving him anything. Not today.
And the fact that Roy wasn't already on his feet, trying to kill him again, told him everything he needed to know.
The incident with the shovel hadn't really been about him at all. It had been about Nadine, and Gator just happened to be the target.
It didn't mean Roy wouldn't try to do it again. But still. It meant that Roy had bought his lie. At least for now.
"We gonna stand here talkin' about me all morning," he said after a beat, his tone flat, "or you got somethin' for me to do?"
There was just enough edge in it to toe the line without crossing it.
Roy's eyes lingered on him a second longer, then flicked toward Landon before settling back.
"Actually," Roy said, leaning back slightly in his chair, "we were just talkin' about you."
Gator didn't move, but something in his chest tightened.
"You're headin' back down to the Cities this weekend."
His heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing Maggie so soon, but he kept his expression neutral.
Then Roy kept talking.
"Landon's goin' with you this time," he added, nodding toward him. "He's makin' sure you don't fuck it up again."
And just like that, the brief flicker of something good dropped straight out from under him.
Gator's stomach sank, but it didn't show on his face.
"And none of this stayin' the weekend bullshit," Roy went on. "You find Nadine, you bring her back. If she ain't there, you come straight home. We'll figure out the rest after."
Gator nodded like he understood, but inside, his mind was going a mile a minute.
He hoped to god that Dot listened to him and got out of town. Because if she didn't... he didn't know if he could help her this time.
And with Landon there, there was no chance of slipping away and seeing Maggie. The thought of being in the same damn city as her but not being able to touch her, not even see her, just killed him.
But there was no way he was risking it. Landon wasn't stupid. And if Roy caught even a hint of it... yeah. It wasn't worth it.
He didn't even realize he was still standing there, deep in thought, until Roy looked up at him again.
"What're you still standin' there for?" Roy snapped. "Get out there and do your fuckin' job."
Gator blinked once, then nodded. He turned and walked out without another word, keeping his pace even until he pushed through the doors and stepped back outside.
The second the air hit him, he reached into his pocket, pulled out his vape, and took a long drag, holding it in for a second before letting it out slowly.
He was still standing. Somehow.
But as the adrenaline started to wear off and the reality of that conversation sank in, one thought kept circling back, louder than the rest.
How the hell was he supposed to get out of this without it biting him in the ass?