Adult-FanFiction.org : Celebrity

As the Seasons Grey	By : christinecornell Category: Celebrities - Misc > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 261 -:- 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 slept fitfully that night as she kept on thinking about the next day at school. She knew that she and Alex would have to have another moment alone together, but she had her worries about the source of that rumor, especially when she knew how easy secrets could slip out into the open, and especially when there were new secrets that she had to keep under wraps. She knew that Nelly would want to know about what went down in that apartment, as well as the Sundaes, and she knew that she would have to tell Eric about what had happened as well. She needn’t people butting in and demanding answers from her when she just wanted to keep the word under wraps. It was hardly a feeling that she could shake as she rolled over onto her back and closed her eyes in the face of the dark ceiling overhead.
She let her arms relax on either side of her, but she still could not fall asleep if she wanted to do so for herself.
She sighed through her nose and rolled back over onto her side.
Her head still ached a bit from her crying earlier on the street. She simply could not stop envisioning Alex with his arms around her and his body pressed against her own. Even after she had showered off and brushed her hair, the feeling still remained with her.
The feeling still remained even as she finally drifted off to sleep.
Alex’s helmet of jet-black hair laced with that vein of silver emerged to her from the blackness. He extended a hand to her and led her away from the hustle and bustle of the school corridors and into a place cool enough to remind her of the beach. On the back of the cool breeze, Christine could smell the delicate fragrance that were the flowers of springtime in full bloom.
“Where are we?” she asked him as they walked through the wrought iron gate.
“You know exactly where we are, dear Christine,” he told her, and she spotted Nelly on the far side of the yard with her gardening gloves and a little glass box filled with thick green leaves and tiny purple and white flowers, ready to be planted and submerged in the water.
Indeed, it took Christine to realize that she herself was wearing a sundress and the two of them were about to engage in a little picnic together. The garden filled the entire backyard with the lush soft plants nestled down in little rivulets of clear water. The sun caressed over the velvety leaves and silken white petals of the water lilies and the cool feeling of the water took away the oppressive heat outside of Nelly’s property.
Alex fixed his shirt under while Christine reached off to the side for the lilac bush right near them. She handed him the bouquet as if it was Valentine’s Day; he brought a cluster of lilacs to the full tip of his nose for a whiff, and he closed his eyes.
“Beautiful,” he remarked, and he took his seat on the spindly metal stool before more lilac bushes as well as a small pond with little white flowers in the shape of stars afloat on top. Christine sat down next to him and adjusted her lacy white skirt.
“We should come here more often,” he suggested as he stroked the flowers with his long lanky fingers.
“We really should,” she added, “especially since Nelly’s more or less retired on the profits so she’s able to cook a lot now.”
Meanwhile, Nelly herself stood up from where she planted the water hyacinths and flashed them a wave.
“Lunch’ll be ready in five minutes!” she called over to them, and Alex flashed her a thumbs up. They watched her walk back to the house off to the right, and the two of them looked at one another. The air was cool and everything smelled so fresh.
“We’ve got all this time and nothing to do,” he chuckled to himself.
“It’s so kind of Nelly to let us use her garden, though,” Christine noted.
“And with the full view of the ocean, no less.” He stood up and tugged his shirttail down over his round little belly: Christine glanced down at his bare legs and ankles, accentuated by his snug dark shorts.
“So cute,” she remarked.
“Who, me?”
“Yeah. Look at you, all chubby and in fitted clothes like this. You look really cute.” She stood up and kissed him on the face with the sun on the crown of his head: the vein of silver on his head seemed to sparkle like actual silver. “All cute and sweet.”
He held the flowers to his chest and huddled closer to her as if he was cold.
“Take a walk, shall we?” he suggested. “Check out Nelly’s little garden here?”
“The little water garden,” she noted, and she put her arm around the small of his back and rested her hand on his hip.
Everything seemed to float and sparkle, as if surrounded by fairy dust under the light of the sun and the small of salt from the ocean. A few birds chirped their song in the trees overhead; the smell of the lilacs was rather intoxicating as Alex took a whiff every so often before each planter. They reached a small, red wine-colored crushed velvet loveseat nestled in the far corner of the garden, right where Nelly had planted those water hyacinths.
He was eager to take his spot there on the far right side, and he reclined back on the soft loveseat with his feet up on the arm opposite him: his black hair fluttered about a bit in the gentle breeze, to the point his gray streak seemed to glimmer and sparkle under the soft hazy sunlight. He showed off the shape of his body to her, as if he was modeling for her in a painting session.
“You look so fine,” she confessed.
“So fine, as in fine art class?”
“Maybe.” She looked down at the little white flowers in the planter next to them.
“Floating hearts, these are called,” she told him.
“How romantic!” he proclaimed with another whiff of the lilacs. She lay down next to him there on the loveseat with one hand in between him and the soft smooth crushed velvet of the back.
“When’s the next trio gig?” she asked him as she gently rubbed his belly with her other hand.
“Soon,” he duly replied. She leaned in for s soft kiss on those cherry lips.
“Mmm, you taste so good—I worry about spoiling my lunch and my dinner,” she whispered to him.
“As do I,” he confessed as she gave him another kiss on the lips.
“You’ve got this nicely shaped dick that’s so slender and so soft,” she told him as she moved her hand from the couch to the crotch of his shorts.
“We’ve got to wait for her, though,” he insisted.
“Her, as in Nelly?” His eyes locked onto her own for a moment as she fondled him in a quick flick of the wrist.
“Christine—dearest Christine Sixteen—is that your hand?”
“Maybe. Or maybe it’s your imagination, baby.”
His eyes moved away from her and over to the gate on the other side of the property, right where they had come in no less. Christine turned her head for a glance over there as well as the golden yellow sand dunes that resided back away from there, away from the edge of the ocean and the softness of the oasis.
Indeed, it was an oasis: Nelly’s house and that water garden served as the sense of relief from the harsh oppression of the hot desert outside of there.
It was right then Christine realized that Nelly hadn’t come back out yet, though it had undoubtedly been longer than twenty minutes. It was as if she had gone back into the house and disappeared in there without a trace.
“God damn, I’m so hungry,” he said as he got off in her hand.
“What do you think we should do?” she asked him as she lifted herself off of him for a look into his eyes.
“We should walk across there,” he suggested with a nod to the dunes outside of the property.
“Why?”
“Nice little challenge, perhaps? I also know that if we come back, the oasis here will be much lusher from before. Besides, if I recall correctly, there’s food that way.”
The next thing Christine knew, they were leaving the property, the oasis, for the heat of the desert. The hot amber sands made everything even hotter, to the point where Christine found it difficult to even so much as breathe. Her skirt billowed behind her against the wind.
Nelly had no car, either: they had no choice but to walk to find something to eat. So much for the picnic.
“I’m thirsty,” she said.
“I am, too. God, what the hell was I thinking?” He nearly lost his balance as they stepped across the front face of the dune: Christine didn’t even have to reach the peak to know that they all stretched for miles on end before them. She peered behind her to behold the view of the ocean as well as Nelly’s oasis, but all she could see were even more sand dunes. The sands of the hourglass that surrounded them for miles on end.
“I’m really, really hungry for something, too,” Alex added, his voice hoarse from his own doing.
“Yeah, I am, too,” she said in a low voice, and she cleared her throat. Alex stood before the peak of the dune with his hands on his head.
“What’s the matter?” she asked him, out of breath.
“I have the weirdest pain in my head right now,” he confessed, and his voice broke even more at that. Christine gazed right into his face, right into those sullen blue eyes as they watched her from the pale yellow sunlight that washed over the hot sands of the desert. Those eyes, tired as they were, gazed on at her, a pair of Hope Diamonds from the heart of darkness, and the band of silver on the crown of his head became more of a cloud to give her a healthy dose of rain.
“Alex… what’s happening,” she asked him in a flat tone of voice: they both turned their heads to look at the summit of the dune before them. The sand started to blow away from the crest and back towards them in a thick veil that seemed to whistle on the back of the wind.
Alex lingered closer to her to protect her from the incoming dust as the sound resembled a church choir singing to them. Christine closed her eyes as the sound took the shape of a ringing noise, the loudest ringing noise she had ever heard in her life. He clutched onto her to keep himself steady, and that was when she woke up.
Gray early morning daylight streamed through the curtains behind her. Christine lay flat on her back, to which she realized that it was her phone ringing.
The phone itself buzzed with the voicemail before she could even so much as sit up in bed. She closed her eyes and hoped that it wasn’t anything too serious.
After a couple of minutes, she finally sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, and she picked up the phone to see the number on the screen. She frowned and her heart skipped a few beats. She pressed the button and brought it to her ear.
“Chris, it’s your mother—I know you have school but please call me when you get the chance. Your father is in the hospital: he has apparently fallen off the wagon.” Christine gaped at that, and she fell back onto the top of the bed. She lay there flat on her back with her gaze fixed on the gray ceiling above.
She thought back to the time that Kenny had relapsed when she was in high school: he had been washing windows with a friend and he accidentally fell off the platform. They were only five feet off the ground, but he still took a tumble and broke a rib. The doctors gave him morphine to ease the pain, and he wound up using it more and more until Wendy threatened to divorce him.
The memory felt so distant, as if it had happened a thousand years before, even though it was only thirteen years ago. She recalled it as if it had happened merely the day before, as well.
Christine sat up in bed and kept her eyes on the door before her. Every time she closed her eyes, she could envision that dream once more, with the feeling of Alex’s body right next to her. Such a lovely man, and she wished to feel him again, and more so once the snows melted away and the blooms were willing to emerge from the cold shadows of the earth below.
It was such a bizarre dream and one that seemed so real at that, too. She knew that things were about to change once she set foot in that classroom later on that morning, and so soon before Thanksgiving no less.
As she prepared herself for school that day, there was one line from the dream that stood out to her, when Alex asked her “fine, as in fine art class?” Something about that line echoed throughout her mind, even though she seemed better at ceramics rather than picking up a pencil or a paintbrush to make something traditional. It was worth a consideration, especially since for all she knew, she could lose her father to a serious relapse.
She rode the bus to school in complete silence, and she hoped that she could at the very least be able to talk about it with Nelly at lunch.
Indeed, at lunchtime, she made her way to the cafeteria, and she spotted Nelly in question next to Alex on the far side of the room, both of them engaged in something. Christine padded past the other tables and past the Sundaes, to see them.
“There she is,” Nelly said with a nod once she came within earshot. Alex turned and raised his eyebrows at her and showed her a little smile.
“What’s going on?” Christine asked them as she took her seat in the stool next to Alex.
“Apparently Mr. Hansen wants to take you guys on a little field trip,” he told her. “Him and a few other teachers, including myself.”
“Ooh, where to?”
“The Smithsonian Art Museum down in D.C. I just think about your soft spot with art and everything. I took one look at the mug you had made me and I had the idea almost immediately. That was what led me to talk to him about it, and then he spread the word throughout the faculty.”
“It’s gonna be a ways off, though,” Nelly explained as she took a sip from her cup of tea. “You know, ‘cause you got the whole thing with money and…” Christine thought about her parents right then. She hoped that her father would be able to recover in time for something like that, especially when she knew that recovery took time and concerted effort on the part of the person recovering. Even though this wasn’t a grade school field trip, she knew that he would want to come along with it all in the event of someone from the outside wanting to chaperone. Or maybe it worked differently at the collegiate level: she had no clue, but she knew that he would want to witness it for himself, especially when he never gave her the opportunity to do on their own free will as a teen.
Her gaze fell to the floor and that was when Nelly spoke again.
“You okay, Chris? You don’t seem like yourself.”
Her bottom lip trembled. She couldn’t help but think of her father, and she knew that she would have to get out of there early just to see him in the hospital. She had her worries, her worries that he had overdosed or did something even worse.
“Yeah, you seem distracted,” Alex added.
“I’m just… thinking is all,” she assured them.
“No, no, no, there’s something going on,” Nelly noted with a shake of her head. “I can feel it.”
“I can, too,” he added, and he nudged his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “It’s personal, isn’t it?”
“My dad’s in the hospital,” Christine answered, and they both gasped at that.
“Oh, my god, what happened?” Nelly asked her, concerned.
“I don’t really want to say,” she replied, and Alex rested a hand on her shoulder.
“You take your time with it, okay?” he suggested, and she nodded her head at that.
“Are you hungry, though?” Nelly asked her. “Would you like something to eat? I know you—” She gestured to Alex. “—wanted a slice of pie and a cup of coffee.” She returned to Christine. “The ovens were acting up this morning, so we weren’t able to start whipping up the pies until just a few hours ago.”
“Ooh, ouch—yeah, I could really use a nice big Reuben sandwich right now,” Christine declared, and Alex treated her to a soft chuckle at that. “Nice big Reuben with some curly fries. I wasn’t really able to eat breakfast this morning so I’m starving right now.”
Nelly finished the rest of her tea and then flashed her a wink, which in turn left Christine alone with Alex once again.
“I’m really sorry about your dad,” he said to her in a low voice, and she shrugged.
“I just woke up to my mom calling me and telling me about it. I haven’t been able to focus on anything all morning.”
“Well, remember, if you need anything at all, I’m always here,” he told her. “I made that promise to Eric and he still has yet to ask me his question.”
“He still hasn’t asked you?” she asked him, stunned.
“Nope.” He paused for a second with a quizzical look on his face. “Wait, how do you know that?”
Christine paused for a second herself, and then she shrugged. “Just a… lucky guess.”
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As the Seasons Grey