Adult-FanFiction.org : Celebrity

As the Seasons Grey	By : christinecornell Category: Celebrities - Misc > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 150 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Started life as kinky Christmas-related short stories in 2022 and took on a life of its own shortly thereafter. 100 fiction, none of this is real, and I own nothing except for the character of Christine.

Chapter List
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Christine’s heart soared as she and Alex strode on out to the wide open street before them after their lunch: the clouds gathered around the halo of the sun but the day could not be brighter. He nudged his glasses up the bridge of his nose and showed her a sweet little smile.
“That was perfect, wasn’t it?” he asked her.
“It could not have been more perfect!” she declared.
He ran his fingers through his black hair and cleared his throat.
“Not to mention, that food just absolutely hit the spot this time around,” he continued. “I don’t know why, either.”
She resisted the urge to tell him that it was because he had paid for it instead of her, and she knew that she would have to find a way to give him a piece of pie as well, given they hadn’t had that, either. He stood next to her and beamed down at her: his glasses slid down the bridge of his nose a bit to show off his deep-set bright blue eyes to her, lined with those thick dark eyebrows. He looked as though he wanted to tell her a secret of some kind.
“I have time by the way,” she told him.
“I would hope that you do,” he said with a sly little smirk on his face. Out of the corner of her eye, Christine saw Nelly making her way over to the door on the far side of the room, right behind him, as if she was about to stalk the two of them. She hoped that she wouldn’t, just so Nelly wouldn’t have to put herself up to a situation like that. She and Alex descended the stairs before them down to the sidewalk: the clouds overhead swirled around and changed between light and dark tones, and it was hard to say if more rain was upon them.
She returned her gaze to the street before them, and she expected to see the doors to the cafeteria open for Nelly to step on out, but she never did. Alex tucked his hands into his jean pockets, and he let his satisfied belly hang forth over his black leather belt. Christine pursed her lips together at the sight of him, and she resisted the urge to do something about it. His shirt hugged his body and accentuated the full shape of his waist. She imagined herself touching him there at some point: there was nothing that should hold her back when she thought about it. Absolutely nothing.
Christine shivered under her long green jacket and adjusted her grip on the strap of her bag. Though it wasn’t cold out, she still shuddered at the thought of him being in the arms of another woman. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but there was something about the thought of him not by her side all the time that only made her want him all for herself. It was a thought that lingered in the back of her mind, and more so when he spoke again.
“What’s on your mind at the moment?”
“I really have no clue what I want to do in life, Alex,” she confessed to him. “I don’t know what I want to do, I don’t know what I want, period. And it’s hard for me to set goals, too.”
“You know, if it’s any comfort to you, Christine, I don’t know what I want out of life, either. Except for maybe ‘peace of mind’ but that’s about it.”
“I just think about how there’s this constant feeling of having to pick choose a career and staying with it for decades, and yet—there’s just so much that I like, between playing around with clay and doing art. There’s a huge part of me that just doesn’t want to do only one thing, whereas I feel immense pressure to choose.”
“Again, if it’s any comfort, I feel the same way, too. I started out playing guitar, playing rock n roll guitar, and then I got bored with it and expanded with it. Some days I feel so limited with it, and other days, it’s like the sky is the limit.”
“Is that why you teach?”
“Nah, I teach because it’s fun and it’s yet another thing I’ve always wanted to do. When I sub, I don’t just want to limit myself to Mr. Hansen’s class, as much as I like you guys. Sometimes I do literature classes, and this week, I’m going to substitute for chemistry.”
“Ooh, that should be fun,” she said.
“I dunno,” he admitted with a shake of his head. “It’s second-year chemistry so, talk about out of my wheelhouse.”
“Thinking I’ll try out chemistry for the winter quarter,” she told him. “Just to see how it fares with me.”
He showed her a thoughtful look. “You really are something else, my dear Christine,” he remarked.
She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t really think so, to be honest,” she confessed to him. “I suffered as a teenager, and I spent most of my twenties baffled and trying to get a grip on life. I feel the entire adult world laughing at me.”
She turned her attention back to him and the thoughtful look plastered across his face.
“Sometimes I just feel like I don’t belong in the world,” she continued. “Not me, not my body…” Her voice trailed off.
“Something tells me you made some U-turns in life,” he finally said.
“I have,” she told him. “When I was in high school, I thought I would have studied abroad and moved to Italy by the time I was the age I am now. It was such a lofty goal that I look back and ask myself, ‘what the fuck was I thinking?’”
“You dreamed big,” he said. “It’s like when you’re a kid and you dream of being a rockstar or something: somewhere along the way, you get a reality check and you feel the kid in you crying because you realize that life isn’t fair. It’s why so many people give up on their childhood dreams and become boring, stale adults. You seem reluctant to become another boring adult, though.”
“I do?”
“Oh, yeah. The fact that you’re willing to try out new things like play around with clay or study dangerous chemicals tells me that you’re curious about life. You don’t see that with people your age. People your age have settled. You know, they get married, they move to plain old houses up in Westchester or on Long Island and that’s it. The fact you’re here in the heart of the City tells me that you’re always curious.”
“Like a child,” she followed along.
“Just like a young child,” he echoed her. He brought a hand up to his mouth, and then he slid it down onto his chest and down onto his belly. “Next time we should totally have pie again.”
“Oh, yeah,” she said with a little smile and a glance down at his hand there on his full, round waist.
“I should invite you to come see my trio at some point,” he told her.
“A trio? What kind of trio?”
“Jazz.”
“You play in a jazz trio?” She showed him a little grin.
“Not just any old jazz trio,” he told her, “mine. The Alex Skolnick Trio. We play around town, and sometimes when I’m not subbing, we’ll go overseas.”
“Wow, you’re like Superman,” she remarked, to which he chuckled.
“Nah, I’m just a guy who does what he does,” he assured her. “I don’t want to be remembered as jazz guitarist or metal guitarist or anything like that. Just a guy who plays and learns new things every day.”
“You should play something metal the next time you sub for Mr. Hansen’s class,” she suggested.
“Whip out some kind of loud, screaming thing that wakes up the whole entire school,” he followed along with a hearty chuckle and a nudge of his hair away from his face.
“We are actually going to touch on rock n roll at some point during the class, though,” she pointed out with a slight snicker. “It’d be cool if you subbed for us at that point.” She glanced over at him again and the fact that he never moved his hand away from his waist. He glanced over at her right as the sun broke out of the clouds.
“You sure are touching your tummy a lot,” she pointed out to him.
“It feels really good in here,” he answered with a gentle pat. “Very warm, almost tender. Like I said, it hit the spot.” He then nudged his glasses up the bridge of his nose once more. “What’s that lunch lady’s name in there?”
“Vanessa,” she replied.
“Vanessa! Yeah, she knows how to make something good, even if it isn’t all that healthy.”
“Oh, you,” she teased him.
“What?”
“So anal about your health,” she said with a shake of her head.
“Anal?” He laughed at that.
“Yes! You are so anal about it.”
“I want to be around for a long time,” he told her with a little smile on his handsome face. “The fact you used the word ‘anal’, though.”
“A teacher with a sense of humor is a good teacher, no matter what the subject,” she pointed out.
They reached the corner, and he turned to her. “So, I have to head on back to the other side of the school to where the adjuncts meet at,” he told her. “I don’t know what your time slots are like for today, but I can walk you to your next class if you’d like me to.”
“That is so sweet,” she said in a soft enough voice for him to hear over the noise from the street. “But I’m right over here, though. I don’t want you to be late.”
He kept the smile on his face: the hazy sun reflected on the black rims of his glasses to where they resembled fire opals.
“You’re too kind,” he said. “I want to meet up with you again, though. Not necessarily after school, but I do like hanging out with you, though.”
“Yeah, we should,” she replied with a little tilt of her head, and yet she had no idea as to what to tack on next to that. She could feel a little something inside of her at the sight of him before her, a light tingling sensation in the pit of her stomach and down into her belly and her hips. It was as if she had known him for quite some time, even though she had only seen him over the course of two weeks. “We should.”
He squinted his eyes at her and showed her a thoughtful little smile.
“I’ll see you later, dear Christine,” he told her, and then he doubled back up the pavement to the doors of the cafeteria. She still pictured Nelly coming on out of there to see what was happening between her and him, but she never did surface from there.
But something caught her eye from across the street: three heads of inky black and one of rich red copper. All four of them padded over to her with mischievous looks plastered across their faces.
“Christine and Mr. Skolnick, sittin’ in a tree,” the one brunette, Colette, declared in a singsong voice. Christine rolled her eyes at that.
“What happened?” the redhead asked her.
“Not if you tell me your names first,” Christine insisted as she buttoned up her jacket. The sun was still out through the veil of haze, but their presence gave her a deep chill right in her spine.
“Marlene,” said the redhead.
“Sabrina,” said the brunette with her hair in a bun.
“Valentina,” said the brunette with pigtails: Christine glanced over her neck at the heart-shaped pendant around her neck made of shimmering black tourmaline.
“And you know me as Colette,” said the brunette with her hair down and the white gloves on her hands. She then rubbed her hands together and gestured towards them.
“Alright. Spill us details.”
“Why should I?” Christine scoffed.
“It’s a juicy piece of collegiate lore,” Colette pointed out. “You also promised us.”
“Lore, not gossip?” Christine pressed her hands to her hips.
“Gossip implies we’re going to tell the entire campus,” Marlene explained. “Lore implies that it’s a tale to be passed down for centuries once the two of you are no longer with us.”
“It’s still gossip,” Christine insisted. “And I still can’t say, either.”
“Oh, come on, it’s not like we’re going to go around telling everyone here that Christine the quiet girl in Mr. Hansen’s class is fooling around with the substitute teacher,” Sabrina said in a single breath.
“I’m not fooling around with him,” Christine assured her with a shake of her head. “And that’s all I’m going to say about the matter, too.”
“Did you promise him not to tell anyone?” Colette followed up.
“No, I promised Nelly I wouldn’t tell anyone else,” she declared.
“Nelly?” Valentina raised an eyebrow.
“Lunch lady Nelly,” Christine clarified.
“Oh, her!” Marlene declared. “I’d be careful of her if I were you.”
“Why? Because she knows everyone in the school?”
“Exactly, yes!”
“What’s so bad about that?” Christine demanded, curt.
“Do you know how dangerous that is?” Marlene asked her.
“How is that dangerous? If anything, I’d rather have someone within arm’s length who knows everyone’s name rather than someone who is trying to pull my secrets.”
She shook her head and gazed up to the overcast sky.
“Why don’t I just go home?” And she felt a hand on her shoulder right then. She peered back for a glimpse of pigtails right behind her.
“Girl, we’re not going to gossip about you,” Sabrina promised her. “But the four of us have seen the look in his eyes and we’re curious about the two of you. You know, given he’s older and whatnot.” Christine turned around all the way to face the four of them.
“I don’t really know, to be honest,” she confessed. “I don’t know how I feel about him. I don’t really feel all that great talking about it, either. He and I are just lunch buddies at this point. Does that make sense?”
“Of course,” Marlene assured her with a flutter of her eyes at her. “It’s just… he paid for your lunch and laughed at things you said. You don’t think there’s anything there?”
“No,” Christine replied, still curt. “Why would there be?”
“Now, Mar, if he touches her, then maybe there can be something more there,” Colette pointed out. “But—I don’t think he has, though.” She turned her head to the side a bit as if she recalled something from before. “No, I don’t think he has.”
“He hasn’t,” Christine assured her; she dared not tell either of the four of them about the mystery woman on his phone. She needn’t stir the pot that way, and especially when they seemed so set on herself and him being in some sort of couple unit together, even though she had no intention of this happening. “Trust me. He hasn’t touched me.” She then paused. “And if he has?”
“Then there might be something there,” Colette repeated with a little flick of her hair back from the side of her face. “Even if it’s just a little innocuous touch on the arm. Even if he gently pats you on the back.”
“A light touch for any reason whatsoever,” Marlene added.
Christine sighed through her nose, and she peered over her shoulder to across the street: she spotted Eric under the trees with his long black hair streaked behind him like a Jolly Roger atop the highest mast on the ship. The shadows from the trees over his head washed over his face and shoulders: it seemed as though there was so much on his mind right then.
“I have to go to class,” she told them.
“We do, too,” Sabrina chimed in as she fixed her pigtails, right first followed by the left.
“And we promise not to tell anyone about this, either,” Marlene vowed to her; for a second, she thought that she had flashed her a wink before the four of them headed on back across the pavement to the other school building there.
It was right then Christine began to wonder if there was something more to Alex that he wasn’t telling her. He did smile at her, and Nelly’s plan worked after all as well. Maybe there was something there that she missed.
She yearned to see him again after school, and she wanted to try it out with him. Maybe he did want to touch her, and she had no way of registering that with him. If only there was a way to ask that of him, to suggest his soft touches unto her and without it seeming as though she begged for it from him as well.
She kept on thinking about this over the course of the class period, such that she could hardly pay any attention to the lecture that day. She gazed on at the front of the room with a blank expression on her face and her chin rested in the palm of her hand.
He was such an enigma to her, and to everyone in that school as far as she knew, as well. Those deep eyes hidden behind those bright shiny glasses. That streak of silver at the crown of his head, like the crown jewel of a prince of the land not yet seen.
Christine strode out of the class with her bag over her shoulder and her eyes on the clock as she knew that the bus was coming soon. She bowed out of that building and back across the pavement to the main building. She kept her eyes open for a glimpse down every corridor on the sides of that main artery.
She had no idea as to where the adjuncts met up at, and she had very little time as to find out about it as well.
Alex was nowhere to be seen, and she could only assume that he had already clocked out and headed back home. She sighed through her nose, and she hoped that he would keep his promise to her and they could meet up once again.
She hurried back outside to the bus stop, and there was Eric, as if he waited for her on the next ride home. Two other boys stood next to him, a short slightly stout one with long frizzy dark hair with a part that obscured a part of his face and a tall and slim one with long dark waves that spread over his narrow shoulders.
“Christine, these are my friends, Lou—” Eric gestured to the short one. “—and Greg.” He flashed her a finger gun.
“The strawberry girl,” said Lou.
“Or is it Christine Sixteen?” Greg joked, and Lou laughed.
“I was thinking about having nicknames for one another,” she confessed to Eric.
“We ought to,” he beseeched, and he rested his hand on her arm.
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As the Seasons Grey