. standing in the way of control

[stassi siminski]

STASSI

The world feels very still as he slips her hair behind her ear. Because of her job, or her clothes, or some very essence she seemed to put out into the world, men tended to see her as a sexual force, a vixen, someone they could toy with and expect her to shrug off. Which she did. But Pat's tenderness makes her afterglow all the sweeter, basking in a rare moment of vulnerability without fear of it being taken advantage of. "Next time you're going first." Laying back on the bed, she tries to catch her breath, her flushed chest rising and falling with the effort. Her legs still feel shaky but she's happy, the happiest she had been in a long, long time. "You're not going to like this... no shower. Just a tub." The very tub she had once almost drowned in, drowsy from the handfuls of pills, slipping in and out of consciousness. Funny how things turned out. "Take a bath with me. I promise it's not so bad."

[pat bohannon]

PAT

Next time. A hint and a hope for more, Pat chasing the words as quietly as he was chasing his breath. Mind blank to the consequences he'd likely face come morning, the people he'd have to face. Benny. Edie. Millie. All but a figment of his imagination as his hand tugs at the curve of her hip. The only anchor he needed in this moment. Pat drifts onto his forearm, eyes widening at her confession. "Would I even fit?" He's not always made for these smaller spaces, the tiny apartments, his taller frame filled out by the sports in his youth, the time at the gym when time didn't get away from him. Even now he's shocked at how big her bed is, wiggling his extended foot that didn't even touch the edge before curiosity got the best of him and he managed to stand up. Drifting to the doorframe of her bathroom, eyes impassive over the clusters of make-up and perfumes and candles so signature of her. Just settling on the clawfoot tub, eyes crawling back to her sprawling, languid frame. "Looks small."

[stassi siminski]

STASSI

With the ease she feels in this situation, you would think it happened all the time. Making no attempt to cover up her nakedness, she smirks as she sees this information land with him. It was a particularly unusual quirk for a small apartment, as was her oversized furniture; the place was a time capsule, barely touched in its decades and decades of existence. So the tub had come with it, and Stassi loved it. "It's pretty deep," she says, trying to sound convincing as his frame fills the doorway. There were things she'd tidy away when she had the chance; empty prescription bottles she realised were on top of her drawers, a card dusted with cocaine residue, Jasper's beat up Acne biker jacket. As if he'd care. She heaves herself up, heading into the bathroom and sitting on the edge of the tub, reaching down to plug it and turn the water on. "Maybe there isn't room for both of us. What a shame."

[pat bohannon]

PAT

Though he knows she'd made this place her own over time, he couldn't help but realize how it fit the version of her he knew so well. Her whimsical clutter spread across surfaces, dark furniture, the warm flicker of candles the only thing reminding him his eyes were even awake. Even the bathroom is a dark porcelain, the bathtub painted similarly either by a former tenant now a ghost or her own determined hands. Everything such a juxtaposition to the glowing skin that snares him, a flicker of satisfaction deep in his core as she reaches to turn the top on and he sees the smatter of fingerprints he'd left on her. Darkly hoping they'd bruise, a singed-soft reminder, watching the water fill from below. Knowing that he'd cave, after it rose a certain level. Map it out in his mind just how their bodies would fit together, the scald of their skin. Sure enough he paces closer when steam rolls off the surface, a "we'll manage," falling from his lips as he steps in first. Tugging at her hand, eventually settling her against him as the water skimmed so close to the surface. "I'm just gonna say it, I think hot tubs are colder than this."

[stassi siminski]

STASSI

Any remnant of her aunt has long gone, the woman off on the west coast managing a major boy band. In a cruel twist of irony, she had started subletting the place to her niece after Stassi's father had an affair and she had refused to be in the same room as him. How the tables had turned. Suppressing that thought, Stassi poured heavily perfumed oil into the running water, watching it emulsify in huge swirls. It doesn't take long for the fixtures, the mirrors, the dusty window to all get steamed up, the room turning humid to the delight of her houseplants, otherwise parched. As soon as she's nestled into him and surrounded by scalding hot water, she knows she's reached a level of happiness she'd struggle to meet again. "How else can you tell you're alive?" She traces her fingers up and down his forearm, watching the hair go whichever way she willed it. She loved how tanned he looked against her. "The bed is going to take a while to dry out."

[pat bohannon]

PAT

"I can think of other ways," Pat grumbles, but even then he's already getting used to it. Still unable to fathom how women can just step into waters like these with no second thought while he has to test the burn, then actively fight against backing out. His brows drop at the metaphor, something uneasy in his chest forming that he also has to fight against because he wants to stay here. Just for a little while, head tipping back against the lip of the tub as his arms pulled tight around her. Could be content here for hours, looking to the crumpled mess of the sheets as he sighs. "Alright, maybe that's worth it." Watching the shift of her every move, dark hair drifting at the surface as sleep starts to threaten at the side of his mind. Making everything a little hazier, hand knocking the side of her jaw so he could connect their lips together again, soft and swelling. "I meant it, downstairs," he breathes, eyes opening to search for hers. "All the time."

[stassi siminski]

STASSI

She turns to face him, sending water spilling over the lip of the tub though she pays that no mind. Resting her hands on his chest and her chin on her hands, her hair fans out in tendrils in the water, looking black rather than brown. She kisses him back, her chest constricting, her heart skipping a beat as their lips meet. "Me too." She had thought of him constantly; opening the curtains every day wondering if she'd catch a glimpse of him coming or going from Bodega, posting a TikTok and immediately wondering if he'd see it, glimpsing the line outside the bar and wondering if he was ever disappointed that she wasn't there pushing her way past it. But she never would have dreamt that he was doing the same thing. A question comes to mind and it's so ridiculous she starts to laugh, the sound ringing out in the quiet of the bathroom. "Where do you live?" How insane that she'd never thought to ask before, never occurred to her to visit. They were so rooted on this corner of this block that she forgot that there was anywhere else he could be found, somewhere he retreated to every Sunday and she'd been too selfish, or maybe too scared of a rebuff, to ask.

[pat bohannon]

PAT

It's such a disservice to his current situation but Pat can't bring himself to care, so caught out by her he couldn't help but chase the honesty. Never before had he felt almost sick with curiosity, pacing the door lines and waiting for her to appear by the grill at late nights, searching the dance floors for the glitter of her make-up or the fire escape outside for the flame of her cigarettes. He felt it, when she wasn't around, and his only wish was that he'd recognized it earlier. Heart skipping a beat at her eyes reflecting darkly off the tiles, the inky curtain of her hair. Obsession personified, hinged on the happiness of her laugh. "On Mulberry," he finally laughs back. As if their universe was truly confined to Bodega below and her apartment above, the few times they'd traipsed further barely noticed because of how intent their focus was. "Off Prince, we walked past it when we went to Spring Lounge, once. Benny and Edie are in Gramercy, Luiz actually lives pretty close to you." Wanting to fill in the gaps he had of her life, too, watching a candle flicker over her shoulder. "Where's Maya, again?"

[stassi siminski]

STASSI

She laughs again, the name stirring some recognition deep in her memory-- she had known that, at some point. Their world had kept shrinking down since Vegas, not just limited to the building but to her front door, the Bodega fire escape, and now the pantry too. Her mind wanders to what his apartment would look like, if there would be sports memorabilia everywhere... her stomach lurches. Would there be a little pile of Millie's jewellery on one bedside table? A second, newer toothbrush in a cup on his kitchen sink? She banishes the thought quickly. "Describe your place for me." She logs the other locations he offers, wondering what Benny and Edie's place would be like. Edie had invited her once but she'd been in one of her slumps. Would she ever be invited again? Stassi has no idea how this will land with them, doesn't want to think about it. "Oh that I know, I saw him on a date once and he confessed. Classic tactic, keeping it close to home so you can suggest a nightcap." She focuses on his face, finding it helps to banish some of the creeping guilt. "She's still in Greenpoint. She helps out at my parents' store and coaches Eve's soccer team. The perfect daughter."

[pat bohannon]

PAT

As small and limitless as this moment felt right now, Pat knew that by daylight it would have to expand. Already growing in mentions and memories, the people important to them that they'd inevitably have to face. He blinks away the look Benny gave him in the kitchen from earlier, trying to find the right way to convey his apartment on another laugh. "Beige," is what he settles on, shrugging his shoulders as the water lapped. "A buddy from my old job got me a good deal on his old place, found out his dad owns the building later so it's all just passive income anyway. Left a bunch of his stuff, very...neutral." It's actually wildly impersonal but he had time to figure it out, the biggest splurge having been his bed and blackout curtains after a long night out. "It's not a lifeless new build though, has an old brick fireplace and got lucky with higher ceilings. He had old comic book art that he just left? I dunno...it's cool, I kept it up." He almost says it, you'll have to see it sometime, but promising anything further than tonight feels heavy so he lets it drop, grinning at Luiz's predictable dating methods and Maya's continued good nature. "What's Eve like? She's graduating high school, right?" He hesitates, but carries on. "And your mom?"

[stassi siminski]

STASSI

She turns back to nestle into him, leaning her head back against his broad chest and regarding the ceiling. It was probably the most familiar view to her, given she spent at least two hours of every day soaking in this very spot. It was nice to have someone to share it with, even if it could end up being the first and last time. "Oh god," she says, disgust evident in her voice, "so it's not just a finance bro bachelor pad, but an inherited one? Patrick." The more they talk the more goes unsaid: I could help you fix it up sometime. She pictured him in a blandly beautiful apartment, watching sports or making breakfast. He remembers Eve's age and that makes her smile to herself, out of his view. "Mhm. She graduates in two weeks, actually." You should come along. Be my plus one. "She's competitive. Outside of that I don't think she knows who she is yet." She thinks on her mother, mulling over the best way to describe her. "My mom was the strictest mom ever, she's a very black and white thinker - it makes her hard to be around, sometimes." It's also why I was so surprised when she forgave my dad for having an affair. "What about your parents, do you think they're disappointed there's no grandkids yet?"

[pat bohannon]

PAT

"Can't knock a good deal," he murmurs into her hair when she flips, eyes following hers to the ceiling. Almost surprised the paint's not curling at the steams, his bathroom a bland nothingness in comparison. To Pat, his apartment was where he slept and where he spent his Sundays, needing little more than the large sectional, his kitchen and the flat screen he'd installed. His one day of solitude, realizing with a jolt that today was Sunday and he'd watched it dip into the horizon with someone else, Monday looming in their wake. Always an exception to his rules, hands sliding up and down her sides under the surface. "Weird confession," he starts suddenly, his touch trailing under the swell of her chest. "When I saw you naked the first time I half expected a nipple piercing." It cuts the quiet seriousness, settles their conversation more in its current direction. Airy and exploratory and avoidant of everything he'd eventually end up facing. "Don't think Charlie knows either yet, but that's what being young is for anyway." Making mistakes like this. Pat's surprised when he immediately fights that thought, trying to imagine someone so unlike Stassi as her parent. Unsure what to say until she mentions his own parents, grin pulling shy in an obvious secret. "Nah, but something tells me they'll be excited anyway in a few weeks."

[stassi siminski]

STASSI

Stassi loves how it feels to have his hands running up and down her arms under the water. Baths were her most sacred space, restorative, able to simultaneously provide physical comfort and a space to let her mind wander. She had once read that Tom Ford took five baths a day and nothing had ever spoken to her so directly. It was such a stark contrast, his apartment a crash pad, hers a manifestation of everything she had ever loved. His confession sends another laugh ringing through the room, her hand rising to her mouth as she shakes her head, "ohmygod no. I barely have a tattoo." It wasn't the first time she had heard that, though. Maybe because her taste in men varied so much, branching outside of any particular subculture - the real alt guys knew she was a poser, her goth leanings aesthetic and rooted in Pinterest more than the real scene. "Speaking of tattoos, I thought you might have an Eagles backpiece. You know, one of the really huge ones." Thinking of Charlie is a comfort. Based on their drunken DMCs, she suspects that even if this news goes down badly with some, she'll be on her team. Though she truly prayed it wouldn't come to that. There's so much going on that it takes Stassi a minute to realize what he's said, though when it finally lands she sits up sharply and turns to him with wide eyes, sending water splashing everywhere. "What? Are you serious? Oh my god, that's amazing! Oh my god. You must be so excited."

[pat bohannon]

PAT

When Pat and Benny'd originally signed on the place, he'd wondered who lived up here. How many people, how annoyed they'd be with the construction, how much annually they'd get in noise complaints? It'd been intriguing when only one person had bothered to poke around, eventually coming to understand Stassi was the mouthpiece of the neighbors. A watchful eye for everything they did, nagging their noise-proofing until they could successfully blast a speaker without shaking a single floorboard. He understood now how protected her peace was up here, how this place was everything to her. Wondering now if he'd ruined it at all or just added another piece to her good memories, shaking his head as water droplets flipped everywhere. "Can't say Ben Affleck's ever been an inspiration to me. Boston guy also, eugh. This is all I've got." He manages to twist his left arm over, the outline of a shape coming into view just above his elbow. "Outline of the sign outside my parent's bar, we all have it. I'm sure we'll get a Bodega one eventually." It's always warm, speaking about his family. Knowing it was growing soon brought all the more excitement, a finger to his lips as she whipped up in recognition. "Yeah, health willing they're spreading the news in a few weeks. Don't say anything yet though - I caught her throw up one too many times for her to hide it but still a long ways to go. I'm gonna be such a cool, fun uncle...Benny's on cloud nine, obviously." He knew her and Edia had been close lately - would it stay, after this? Another thing to figure out, idly taking her hand and flipping it over, staring at her fingerprints. "Your hands are starting to prune."

[stassi siminski]

STASSI

"Ben Affleck has that?!" She wants to reach for her phone to check that information, the first time she had thought of the device since she walked into the Bodega kitchen. Pat had that effect on her, occupying her full attention whenever she was around him, even if he was busy doing something other than talking to her. From the minute they met he had started occupying space in her life, expanding with every shared moment of intimacy, their closeness filling up the tiny space that was this bathroom. She turns to look at his tattoo, her heart swelling. Though she was not on bad terms with her parents, not really, there was none of that warmth, none of the shared enterprise. She adored hearing about his family, basking in the warmth that radiated off him whenever he spoke of them. "Your parents must be so proud of you." She loved being privy to this secret, though it would be a struggle not to text Edie her excitement. Stassi's stomach twists again as she wonders what Edie will think of her, if this news would bring her undue stress in that delicate first trimester. Of course it was unlikely to be that serious to her, but she has to swallow down an impulse to beg him not to say anything, knowing that it's not her place. "They deserve that so much. You're gonna be the best." She shrugs at her pruning fingers, though for once she doesn't want to dwell. She gets out, trailing water across the tiles as she crosses the room, grabbing some towels. Not facing him, she tries to sound nonchalant. "You can go home if you want, by the way. I won't be offended."