Adult-FanFiction.org : Celebrity

Suicide Blonde	By : redqueeninwonderland Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Green Day Views: 3766 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Green Day. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
Title: Suicide Blonde Chapter Five
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I Don't own anybody I didn't make up.
Notes: Thanks for the reviews, ladies and gents! Keep 'em comin' cause they're really cool.
@%@%@%@%@%@%@%@%@%@%
They ended up at the beach. Walking the boardwalk just for something to do. Billie had the sneaking suspicion that they were there more because Ava didn’t know Berkley as well as she wanted him to think she did and less because the area held any real significance for her. Just now the silence was companionable. Her hand was shoved in his back pocket, his arm around her waist, and she was working on a chocolate chocolate chip ice cream cone with such concentration he was a little afraid to interrupt her.
“This is cool,” she said, offering the cone to him.
“What is?” He said like he didn’t already know, licking the proffered section of ice cream and purposely getting her thumb in the bargain.
Ava gave him a look and flexed her hand in his pocket, “What, what, this you moron.” She crunched part of the waffle cone. “How cool is it, I’m mean-“
“I could kiss you right now and nobody's gonna say anything about it.”
“Exactly,” she glanced around, 'nobody' consisted of some college kids, surfers, and old people. Nobody seemed especially excited to see them and nobody seemed especially ready to whip out the cameras either. It was nice. Also made her wonder if they were too careful back in the day. Remembering made her remember everything and then she was thinking about those first weeks in college when life sucked and stuff was happening and things were crazy. That made her stomach crunch and suddenly she wasn’t as hungry for ice cream any more.
“What’s wrong?” He felt her tense and wasn’t even going to try to fathom the mind of woman when she tossed the last half of the cone in the trash.
“Nada.”
“Liar.” Billie squeezed her side, “What gives?”
Ava grimaced, “Just thinking.” She rolled her eyes, “Doesn’t matter.”
“About…?” Billie knew that tone. It was the Girl Tone. The tone that screamed 'I may say everything’s fine, but I’m about to spiral into a weird depression because my ass looks fat in these jeans and somehow, not sure how, but somehow it’s all your fault.' He hated that tone.
“Just…” she let loose of his pants pocket and he knew he was in for twisted logic. “Okay, so, remember how I made a huge deal out of us never being seen in public together back in the day because I was worried that it would turn into a fucked up Carrie Fisher story?”
He grimaced, “Well I didn't know you were afraid I was going to turn into Joey Buttafuoco, but yeah.” He looked at her sidelong, “You playin' the regret game?”
“I don't know, maybe.” At the look he gave her she sighed, “Okay, yeah. I mean-- okay so I have a degree and a band and a hit record, but if I hadn't gone we could'a been--”
“You were right to leave, Ava.” He leaned against the rail, taking both her hands in his. “You've gotten...” He spread her hands wide so that he was taking an unimpeded view of her body. “You're gorgeous, baby.”
Ava bit her lip, “I've been gone for five years, Billie.”
“I know,” he knew. He really, really knew.
“Five fucking years, Billie.” Ava shook her head, “It's a long time, you know? And dammit, I mean, I--”
He jerked her to him, plunging his hands into her hair and burying his head in her neck. “I missed you like fuck, you know that, right kid?”
Ava closed her eyes, breathing in his scent. Cigarettes and aftershave and Billie-sweat. Her arms were around his neck and it felt so good being held by him that it all fell away. Everything. All the crazy. It was just... gone. “I know that, Billie.” She sighed against his skin, “It's just...”
“What?” He pulled back, staring her in the eye. Ava never had a problem telling him what she thought before. He hoped it was just nerves. Not that he expected everything to be like it was... but still. She couldn't be that changed.
Even though five years really was a long time.
“Well...” She shoved her hands in to her back pockets. “What if we're no good together anymore?”
“Are you serious?” He cocked his head. “You're serious. You really think we won't be good together anymore?” Billie didn't try to mask the incredulity or the amusement from his voice.
“I don't know, I mean, maybe,” she screwed her face up. “I mean, well dammit, Billie--”
“Ava?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up, huh?” He cupped her face in his hands. She was blushing. Embarrassed pride. “So what's the best way to see if we're still good together?” He bumped her nose with his.
“Well...” She trailed off, laughing softly when he licked the tip of her nose, quick like a cat.
“How about if I...” His lips touched hers. His tongue flicked again, this time against her top lip, soft, like he was tasting her. She opened her mouth to him, inviting, and he didn't take the invitation. He kissed the fleshy part of her bottom lip and she nudged her head forward, flicking her tongue against the corner of his mouth.
Ava sighed against his lips, her eyes drifting shut. She remembered this, how it felt, what it tasted like. Her body swayed toward his and her fingers flexed on his tee shirt. She opened her mouth to him and he teased, his tongue barely flicking her upper lip again. Ava made a mewling sound and inched ever closer to him. His hands tightened on her hair.
The kiss broke and her blood pulsed through her body, making her lightheaded. She collapsed against him and laughed. “I'm pretty stupid, huh?”
“Not stupid,” he scratched lightly down the back of her tank top with his fingernails just to watch her shiver. “But not the sharpest knife in the drawer, either.”
She pinched him, in the soft fleshy part of his side under his arm.
He yowled, she jumped back, and then she was in his arms again. “You know what we need?”
“What do we need?” It was hard to be cool when she was being her. Ava grinned so big she dimpled in three places.
“A camera.”
@%@%@%@%@%@%@%@%@%@%@%@%
Alex rolled over in the girl Liza's bed and reached for the quilt, pulling it over his head. He wasn't sure exactly why, but he was feeling guilty. He could hear the girl Liza coming back into the bed room. He sighed, well, he'd have to face it eventually. When he sat up she was sitting on the edge of the bed, a cup of coffee in her hand. HE took it gratefully and sipped.
“Why didn't you tell me you were a fan?” He nodded at the band poster, the guys all looking cool and aloof on a New York rooftop and Ava sitting, arms and legs wrapped around her magenta Fender.
Liza shot him a long, considering look, “Because you would rather me be the kind of girl who just picks up strange guys in the park at seven in the morning?”
“Maybe,” Alex was having a sense of unreality that he didn't like. This whole thing was weirding him out. And Ava staring at him from the wall like she knew something really wasn't helping his frame of mind either.
“You're really talented,” Liza supplied, then blushed, “but you probably know that.”
“S'what they tell me,” he shrugged, “So you picked me up because you're a groupie or whatever?”
“Nah. If that were the case I'd be after your drummer.”
“Jah?” Alex laughed at the look on the man's face. He'd turn her down flat. Or maybe not, actually. Jah was funny about stuff like that. “So why me?”
“Why not?” She lifted her shoulder, “You looked like you needed somebody in the park. It really wasn't about you being who you are.”
“Yeah?” She gave him a look that plainly said she thought he was nuts. “Yeah.” Liza touched his hair, sliding her palm over it. “Listen, and this is no shit, if you want somebody... I mean, well... you just,” she looked unsure suddenly, “You just really seem like you need somebody.”
He laughed softly, putting the mug on her bedside table. Liza aged five stared up at him from underneath the massive body of her Saint Bernard. “You offering to be my girlfriend?”
“Maybe,” she lifted the quilt and gave his package a meaningful look, “We've sure as hell moved past the friend phase.”
He grabbed her wrist and pulled her down next to him. “Yeah, I'll show you 'friend phase'.”
@%@%@%@%@%@%@%@%@%@%@%
Billie stared down at the strip of pictures they'd taken in the photo booth on the boardwalk. First, Ava on his lap and the both of them smiling dutifully at the camera. Next, Ava holding his jaw in the scoop of her hand, mooshing his cheeks together so his lips were screwed up and her licking his cheek. Then, Billie cringing away from her and shoving Ava's face away from him, Finally, her straddling him, her back to the camera, her ass in the air, his laughing face and hands inching down her waistband.
They were back in her hotel room. There was a roll of film in his back pocket that they had to get developed and about forty Polaroids spilling out of her purse. She had it in her head that they needed documentation. Like, if they didn't buy out the bodega on photography supplies and take pictures of each other in every possible way, self portraits, her of him, him of her, tourists off the street snapping the button, then it would be like they were never together.
He wondered what she was so afraid of.
Just now she was on the phone with her manager. He wanted the band at three parties that night and she was the only one picking up. Dave and Jah were God only knew where and her guitarist had apparently disappeared too. Ava seemed surprised that Alex wasn't in the hotel room when they got back. Billie was surprised that Ava and Alex shared a room. He raised his eyebrows at what she said their 'arrangement' was, believed her because she was Ava and had never lied to him before, and wondered if the guy was gay or if he was in love with her.
“Hey stranger,” she leaned against the balcony door. Billie turned back from the city skyline. Her tank top strap was falling off her left shoulder. Her jeans were hanging low on her hips. He could see the lotus tattoo from forever ago.
“Hey,” he held out a hand to her.
“Those were good pictures,” she said, taking his hand and ducking under his arm.
“Yeah, we got plenty of good pictures today,” he kissed the top of her head and handed her the strip. He'd keep it but there was a Polaroid of the two of them that he wanted more. Ava falling off the knee high wall, arms extended outward, right into his arms. A college kid took it for them after they both signed his dashboard.
“So, I was thinkin',” she rubbed a hand down his belly suggestively.
“Yeah...?”
She nudged his hip with her hip and dragged her head toward the bedroom, “... You wanna?” “Do I wanna what?” He turned, looking her in the eye, making her say it.
Ava blushed crimson, “Billie-!”
“Do I want to what?” He shook her forearm, “Watch tv?”
“You bastard.”
“So they tell me.”
“What do you want, me to tell you I'm horny?”
He laughed outright. “Why, are you?”
“Jesus, never mind!” Ava shoved him, stomping in the direction of the bedroom. This was not how she'd foreseen this going. Billie's laughter ringing in her ears and making her scarlet. Double dog damn him!
“Ava...” He leaned against the balcony doorway in bemusement. “Ava?”
“What?!” She glared at him, swiping her hair out of her eyes.
“You're freaking out,” he pointed out, amused and mildly confused at the same time.
“Yeah well you're being a dick.” She slumped down on the edge of the bed, scooping the pile of Polaroids back into her purse and tossing it on the dresser. She rested her elbows on her knees and put her head in her hands, forcing herself to breathe deeply.
“Ava...” He sank to his knees in front of her, ducking his head so he looked like a salamander on a rock and was able to look her in the eye. “What's goin' on, darlin'?”
She sighed, she was blinking on tears. “Dammit, Billie Joe,” she exhaled in a long gush. “I feel like I'm a freaking teenager with you!” She laughed, “I didn't feel like this when I was seventeen and now all of a sudden I'm Hillary Fucking Duff.”
He laughed, putting a hand on her knee. “Ava, look at me.” She didn't so much as snort. He rolled his eyes and puckered his lips in a classic fish-face. “Pweeze look at me?”
The left side of her mouth twitched infinitesimally.
“Pwitty Pweeze?” He shook her knee. “Ava,” he said in a perfect Donald Duck imitation, “Pweeeeeze look at me!”
At that she had to laugh, she smacked him though, “You are a prick.”
He laughed with her, the Duck never failed, then pulled her down on the floor next to him. “I'm sorry I'm not taking this seriously.” He pulled a serious face. “I swear,” he raised his right hand, “That from here on out... no more jokes. I will not smile. I will not laugh. I won't even cross my eyes to make you smile or laugh.” He did the boy scout salute, “On my honor as a scout.”
“You were never a scout, dip shit.” She grabbed his hand, “So... here's the thing...”
“Yeah?” He tried not to let her notice the way his breath caught when she brought his hand to her left boob.
“I actually am kinda horny...”
“Yeah?” Okay, there was no hiding the way his voice broke.
“Oh yeah.”
@%@%@%@%@%@%@%@%@%@%
Author's Note: Sex in the next chapter, I swear, guys.
- 2
- 3
- 4
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Suicide Blonde