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Opposites Collide	By : Redneckgirl Category: Individual Celebrities > Wentworth Miller Views: 2759 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction in its entirety. I am not claiming these events to be true to life in any way, shape or form and do not know Wentworth Miller personally. The story itself and OC's are of my own creation and no monies are being made o

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
AJ’s POV
‘So, if you had to name the ten top things that either tick you off or make you happy, what would they be?’ Went asks me at just coming up to 1.30am. We’ve been talking for the last hour and a half none stop, finding out all manner of things about each other we didn’t know before, and from my point of view at least I have to say I like the fact that I now know his parents and sisters names, ages and professions, that he has an IQ of 148, he drives an Audi, he’s the third in the line of Wentworth Earl Millers, and his birthday falls on June 2nd.
‘Hmmmmm, okay let’s start with the happy. My two cats Maggie and Mary, my friends and families happiness, clichéd answer it might be but oh well. Music, good wine, Japanese art, getting a new tattoo, becoming lost in a good book, laughing, dying my hair, discovering new knowledge, and green eyed men’ I reply, watching him laugh a little at my last statement.
‘You’re just saying that because of present company’ he says, shaking his head and finishing his beer, picking up one of the three bottles I went and brought for him about twenty minutes ago along with another bottle of red for myself once I’m finished with the first. Can you tell I don’t want any frequent bar trips getting in the way of our conversation?
‘I hereby swear to you I am not. There’s no alternative motives for flattering your ego here Went, if I wanted to do that I’d just come out and say something like you look good enough to eat tonight. Because you sure do’ I reply with a smile before taking another sip of wine, one his reply makes me nearly choke on.
‘Which part of me in particular? I hope it’s the same one I was thinking about’ he says with a wink, making me omit a strange noise into my glass and just about manage to swallow my mouthful as I laugh through my nose. He certainly gets ruder after a few beers; that I have noticed.
‘Behave yourself. Right, now a list of things that tick me off as you put it. Small mindedness, ignorance, stupidity, rudeness, people who think it’s cool to take drugs which I guess can be classed as stupidity, erm let me see. I’m quite an easy going person so it does take quite a bit to annoy me. Erm.................... Republicans! Can’t stand the republicans! So that’s six, famine I must say is a big one, I can’t stand the thought that in this day and age people are still dying of hunger and thirst, makes me really angry. Hmmmm, I think that’s about it really, can’t think of another three really. Well, not one’s I want to divulge to you that you can use against me at a later date just to be annoying!’ I exclaim, passing him a cigarette he mouths ‘thanks’ in response to before lighting it and unbuttoning the cuffs on his shirt and rolling them up over his elbows.
‘I think that’s a good plan, I’m not the kind of man that can be trusted with knowing other people’s weaknesses that can be taken advantage of. Oh the fun I had with trapping spiders for an ex of mine to find and then scream her lungs out at. She hated me for that’ he confesses, resting his hand on my leg.
‘So c’mon then big guy, it’s only fair to reciprocate’ I say, gesturing he should answer the same question now.
‘Alright then. Happy things; making my sister lives a misery at every chance I get to get them back for endless embarrassment inflicted upon me by them when we were kids, sleeping in all day, books about history, The Black Crows, Japan, my old college friends, saunas, the beach, quietness and girls named Alice, who have blue eyes and lots of tattoos’ he says, leaning in for a kiss right at the end.
‘Well that was definitely on purpose Mr Smooth’ I tease before kissing him, neither of us wanting to come up for air for a few moments.
‘I know, but it’s true’ he says, pulling away slightly before kissing me again, his hand stroking my cheek.
‘And the things you hate?’ I ask, this time being the one to pull away.
‘I don’t want to go into those just yet, kissing you is much more important’ he says, putting his beer down on the table and putting both arms around me while we continue to kiss. I think I just died and went to heaven. It might be our first date, but just a week and three days since our first kiss and I really, really like him.
‘Okay I think I’m ready now’ he says ten minutes of kissing later, sinking a mouthful of beer before letting the breaks off on what pisses him off.
‘Much the same as you, ignorance, stupidity and small mindedness all bother me, as does racism as I’m mixed race myself. Even though I look like a white guy I’m not, my dads of African American and Jamaican descent. The fact I love animals but can’t go near any of them because I’m fiercely allergic to their fur, so I’d never be able to sit in the same room as your cats sadly. Also the fact I can’t eat anything with the word berry in it or I’ll come out in a huge rash and my throat will close up. I’m also not fond of overt arrogance, bad manners, people who drive like they’ve been taught by Stevie Wonder and poor personal hygiene. Yep, that makes ten’ he replies while I sit and chuckle at the Stevie Wonder comment.
‘Oh you’d be fine with my cats by the way, they’re both hairless’ I then reassure him, hoping the time will come when I’ll be able to take him home to Hollywood and introduce him to my babies.
‘Hairless cats? I’ve heard of them before and seen pictures but never actually met one. They look a little...................freaky I have to admit’ he says honestly, lighting a cigarette and passing it to me before resting his arm back around my shoulders and lighting another for himself.
‘You know I thought that too before I met their mom when she was expecting their litter, a neighbour of mine breeds them so I had them off her, they’ve such lovely temperaments, and when I’m away they keep my mom company too. She lives in a nice big house, and right at the back of the garden is a one level pool house where I live. They’re always round there hanging out with Homer anyway’ I reply, reaching for my wine glass and having him pour the rest of the bottle in there with a smile.
‘Okay so I have to pick apart what you just said and ask two questions. One, who pray tell is Homer? And number two, well I guess number two is more of a statement, and that’s when you moved out you didn’t exactly move very far did you?’ he says, both of us laughing.
‘Homer is her huge blue and yellow macaw parrot, she called him that because she got him from a rescue home and they didn’t know his name and decided not to give him one, let the person who adopted him give him it instead. And so one day she’s sitting there with him, still nameless and she’s watching The Simpsons and the parrot starts shouting ‘D’oh!’ So hence forth his name was Homer. And the cats love him for some bizarre reason, they’d rather groom him than kill him’ I start, answering the first question put to me as he chuckles softly, more of a deep rasp than anything that sounds so sexy it makes the hairs on the back of my neck and my arms stand up.
‘And the thing about living next door to mom’ I continue. ‘Well when she and dad divorced she only had enough money to get herself a small place, and after she qualified as a Pharmacologist her salary went upwards by a considerable amount of zeros she brought a really nice home for herself and Jack, Alex lived with her then boyfriend at the time, and she let me pay her rent on the pool house while I was working part time and going to college. She only told me when I qualified she’d saved all the rent I’d given her and gave it me back to buy myself all the stuff I needed to start working full time with Alex, she’s such a great mom for doing that for me. But as soon as I started to make really good money a few years ago I saved up a lot of money and brought her a 1979 Mercedes SLK a few months back as a thank you for letting me call the place home. She could have rented it to someone else for a whole lot, it’s gorgeous’ I finish, watching him nod.
‘She sounds like a remarkable lady, and smart too. You obviously get your brains from her’ he says, not knowing how profound his words actually are.
‘This is very true. My dad, well my dad ain’t smart, he used to be though. Like I told you before he smokes weed and he’s fine when he does, but he alternates between that and drinking. A lot; and he’s awful when he drinks, I can’t stand him and I know exactly why my mom left him when he’s hammered. He just got steadily worse after the divorce; he never really got over it. But besides that I love him very much, as long as he’s in Willie Nelson mode and not some Irish-American version of Oliver Reed’ I sigh, smiling through the sad feeling I suddenly get about my father.
‘That’s too bad about your dad. I think it’s quite a common thing though what you just explained about him not getting over it. And as for him being an Irish-American, that’d make you Italian-Irish-American then?’ he said, his fingers trailing underneath the strap of my (well, Robin’s) dress.
‘In heritage yes, but I’m actually South African. I was born in Johannesburg when my parents lived there. My dad did used to be a teacher and got offered a job out there so they moved when Alex was one and I was on the way. I even have a South African passport, but sadly I don’t speak much Afrikaans. It’s one of those things I always say I’ll do but never get round to’ I tell him after taking another big gulp of red wine. How the hell I’m going to get through the other bottle is beyond me, whereas with him I’ve seen him drink eight beers so far and he’s absolutely fine. I however feel a bit ‘giddy’ as my grandma would put it.
‘You’re still nowhere near as mixed up as me. I’m British born with African American, Jamaican, Lebanese, French, German, Syrian and Russian blood’ he says, raising an eyebrow.
‘Mongrel’ I tease, receiving a swift tickle in the side that makes me shriek.
‘Ahhhhh she’s ticklish, I’m taking note of that’ he says as he laughs.
‘Damn you, this advantage isn’t fair!’ I exclaim, exclaiming in a loud squeaky scream again as he tickles the other side of my ribs.
‘Stop fucking screaming or they’ll think I’m raping you back here’ he says, frowning at me. God he’s hot when he frowns.
‘Well stop taking liberties with the fact I’m ticklish then. And don’t worry I’ll find out your weaknesses in time’ I reply, poking a finger against his neck and watching him frown further and bat my hand away.
‘I have none’ he says after finishing the rest of the bottle of beer and grabbing another one off the table.
‘Lies’ I say, shaking my head and finishing my glass of red wine and putting it down on the table.
‘Shut up and start your next bottle duchess’ he says, kissing me on the cheek and then reaching out to refill my glass perhaps a little too much.
‘Hey! You’re not Rob you’re not allowed to call me that!’ I say, comically whiny.
‘Everyone calls you that Alice; you’re a cruel mistress of the war paint’ he assures me, waving a finger in my direction as beer number nine slides down his throat.
‘Yeah yeah, I’m the acid tongued makeup lady but you all love me’ I say sweetly, putting on a big Cheshire cat grin.
‘You terrified Lane today’ he says, referring to our new boy playing the character David ‘Tweener’ Apolskis.
‘I just warned him to stop picking at the zit on his face he kept insisting scratching the cover up off of!’ I say, taking another sip of wine and doing my best to look innocent.
‘Yeah, warned him by threatening to kick him in the ass while wearing six inch spiked heel shoes, that’d be really fucking painful and for a few moments he really did think you meant it! He turned around to Rob and I and he was like ‘is she serious? Man, she’s scary!’ he laughed, obviously remembering it and falling into hysterics again.
‘I wondered what you were all killing yourselves over when I’d gone down the stairs’ I reply. That’s the last thing we mention about work, both becoming lost in conversation so deeply that neither of us noticed how many hours had passed and before I knew it the time was three am. And surprisingly it was still mild outside, mild enough for us to walk slowly (I was a tiny bit unsteady on my feet, a little dangerous in shoes this high if I hadn’t have had Went to hang on to) through the streets until we managed to hail a cab, deciding to go back to mine.
‘You even have clothes at my place. You left those ones behind in the dryer the first night you nearly stayed over. They stank of dry rain when they came out so I washed them again, I’ve forgot to bring them to work ever since though’ I say to him as we speed down the main road which the road my apartment borders turns off at a big junction we’re rapidly approaching. Kamikaze taxi driver it would seem.
‘It’s just as well you did forget then’ he replies, smiling and resting a hand on my leg before looking out of the window for the duration of the journey. We pull up and Went pays the driver, getting out of the cab and walking around the other side to help me out in case I break and ankle, and then just picks me up and carries me into the house and up the stairs after I’ve paused to lock the front door, putting me on my feet when we reach my room where I pull my shoes off and put them straight back in the closest, removing a hanger for the dress too while I’m there. I then grab a pair of my white pyjama pants and a small black vest top and head for the bathroom, unpinning my hair and tying it back in a band before washing my makeup off (he’s seen me without it on before, I’m over the whole thing about him seeing my face bare now) and cleaning my teeth, unzipping and sliding out of the dress and my underwear, one to go on the hanger and two to go in the washing basket.
I get dressed into my nightclothes and wobble slightly, giggling to myself and steering my way carefully out of the bathroom, getting back into my room without causing excess noise that may wake my sister and into bed with Went. I’m really glad he’s here, and I think this pattern of us sleeping together without us actually sleeping together in that sense is quite nice, even though the sexual attraction between us is very strong the restraint we have is good thing too. And so I curl up and feel him wrap his arms around me and kiss my back a few times, his fingers lightly stroking my stomach before the amount we’ve both drunk dictates to us it’s time for unconsciousness.
The next morning I open my eyes to see an empty space next to me, and feel an immediate pounding in my head. Sitting up I spy a fully dressed Wentworth sat on my couch reading the morning paper and drinking a mug of coffee.
‘Morning sleepy, even though it is technically afternoon now’ he says to me, winking and waving at me as I rub my eyes and notice firstly how sunny it is outside, and then the time. 12.25pm.
‘What time did you get up?’ I ask, opening my nightstand draw and reaching for the Advil. Taking two from the pack I pick up the bottle of mineral water I always keep by my bed and swallow them back while he answers.
‘About ten, I walked down to the newsstand with Alex and got this and then witnessed her shell out $800 on shoes on her way back’ he replies, putting the paper down and coming over to give me a kiss.
‘Oh she made you detour to the vintage store huh? She’s obsessed with that place, I swear she’s spent about a grand in there since we’ve been here’ I say, sitting up and resting my throbbing head on his shoulder. ‘I need to go and stand in the shower for a little while, I’ll be back’ I tell him, watching him nod and kiss my cheek before I get up and head out to the bathroom. And much to my delight the rest of the day is spent being lazy, eating greasy takeout food and watching movies with Alex too for most of the afternoon, lying in Went’s arms at the bottom of my bed as we watch the zany Pauly Shore comedy Son in Law, Alex sitting on the pillows at the top of the bed painting her toenails bright red to match the streaks in her mostly black hair.And as we watch the film I find myself looking out of the corner of my eye and having to pinch myself, I can’t believe this is happening, that I have such a gorgeous, kind, intelligent and funny guy interested in me. I just......................guys like him don’t go for me. I mean the way we look and dress is worlds apart; I’d never usually mix with guys like him unless it was through work like it is. Heavily tattooed girls who hang out in tattoo shops and biker bars back home don’t usually date well educated Calvin Klein model types. But underneath, we are both very similar, and the fact we are so different on the outside isn’t even significant; it was the intensely heavy attraction to one another that brought us to this point in the first place.
And with our first date over and many more to come in the following weeks I still feel as if I’m up on cloud nine, but, I do confess I have a bit of a problem. And that is thus- is he my friend who kisses me or my boyfriend type person? The way he acts kinda makes me have to wonder sometimes, and the things he says. Or am I just being paranoid because things seem to be going so well so far? Throwing obstacles in the way because I’m not used to it being this easy and effortless with someone? I’ll let you decide based on a few of my observations over the past six weeks, six weeks since our first date-
‘I 100% agree with you there, if she was standing in front of me right now, well, let’s just put it this way; she wouldn’t be on her feet for very long!’ Wentworth’s slightly drunken comment to Rob about Evangeline Lily as we sit drinking beers with Alex and Dominic. Friend?
‘Just shut up and kiss me. I missed you’. After he’d arrived back at the prison from a location shoot, and locked me in his trailer with him to spend twenty minute kissing me. Boyfriend?
‘When AJ’s drunk she adds an H to every word that begins and I, it’s hilarious. Hey, drunken fool, at least look at me while I’m embarrassing the crap out of you’. Wentworth teasing me in front of Robin, Rob, Alex and Peter in makeup one morning. Friend?
‘You crashed out on the couch about an hour ago so I brought you to bed with me. Go back to sleep beautiful’. Went’s words to me when I stir in his bed at 2am. He’s taken my jeans off for me but left my top intact, which I take off before curling back up with my head rested against his chest, my leg slung over his lower stomach. Boyfriend?
But also there’s another thing. I haven’t had sex with him yet. I usually wait a month when I’m dating, I think that’s long enough but I just feel to shy around him sometimes and so don’t instigate anything. And neither does he. Thus my friend/boyfriend dilemma. But before week six is out, I start to realize us being just friends is the last thing on his mind.
‘Your legs look great in that dress’ he says to me, pushing his chest against my body so I’m pinned to the wall he’s walked me back into, hands wandering up the sides of my thighs before his fingertips begin to circle my ass cheeks as we kiss. He’s pulled me beneath a dark stairwell on set while everyone is on the other side of the set filming scene, and his touch has got me so hot that if he initiated sex right now I’d be powerless to refuse him. He’s so sexy it makes my knees weak. And as if that isn’t enough to convince me, week number seven leaves no shadow of a doubt of exactly who and what he is to me.
- 8
- 9
- 10
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Opposites Collide