The story of a lonesome ol'Jerome

*Gwyn’s POV*

Toiletries, CPAP, meds, makeup, jewelry, cell phone charger, alarm if I needed it, everything else was packed with a couple suggestions except… clothes. I looked at Andy, anguished. He looked confused. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know what clothes to bring.” I knew I was being dumb. I looked in my closet, scowling.

Andy was already dressed and looked so adorable. I thought it was amusing that he had been disappointed I hated cream-style makeup and didn’t have any. He had been even more horrified at my relative lack of hair products. I had threatened him with my one bottle of Paul Mitchell’s ‘skinny hair’ and almost sent him running naked out of the bathroom after our shower.

Andy looked at me for a second. “You know, Doc, with most people, I’d just say, ‘Oh, well, it’s November, so bring a jacket. I checked the schedule, and in two weeks we’ll be in Pennsylvania for a while, it gets pretty chilly there.' However, this is you.”

Andy smiled at me, put down his phone, and got up off the bed. He gave me a hug. “I think you are indirectly asking for assistance, am I correct?” He looked down at me, grinning.

“I just don’t have, um, fancy, like…” I was embarrassed. I felt my face get hot. Andy squeezed my hand.

“Oh, please! I love the way you look, if you started dressing like some kind of bondage model it would be weird and not you. Just start with picking out underwear you like, ok?” I nodded, feeling better, and headed towards my dresser.

“Though don’t think I didn’t notice your huge collection of bondage magazines!” I heard Andy coming towards me and felt him pinch my butt. I turned, a touch startled and embarrassed, but he was already sitting placidly on the bed. He looked up from his phone. “Secret’s safe with me, Doc.” He winked, and I felt all warm and fuzzy as I started to sort through my undies.

I picked out the bottoms in the best shape. Then bras- thank goodness I had still kept some underwire bras around! I generally didn’t wear underwires anymore, but I felt like I needed to foist up my saggy, old tits for Andy, poor bastard. Predictably, when I asked his opinion, he suggested I go braless. I snorted. If I were to do that, I’d have a set of mailbags warming my ankles in a few months. To buy time, I picked out socks.

I looked, irritated, at my stupid pants. None would disguise my hideous ass. None would make it look like the girl Andy had tweeted had a reasonable body. I scowled furiously at them, picking through them, and felt a big hand on my back. “How about some warmer pants? And, let me guess, you like black? I see a lot of it!” Andy grinned, and it was so cute, my scowl went away. “I like it when you smile, it’s pretty. Not that you’re not a fox when you’re giving me those evil death-glares, that’s hot too. I’m just also running for my life, and I feel like the odds of being able to successfully cop a feel are higher when you’re smiling and happy with me. Am I right?” I felt Andy's hand creeping down my back and around my butt, and started laughing.

“Thicker, black pants it is, then, Hot-shot!” After that I just relaxed and picked out whatever I felt like. I took one nice-ish outfit, just in case, hoping I wouldn’t need it, a couple skirts, some pants, a variety of tops, and a bunch of shit for layering. I was no fucking fool, I wasn’t going to mess around with the Northeast in buttfucking November. Taking after my mother, I managed to get it all, CPAP and a backpack aside, in a pretty fucking small case- after all, it was only two weeks.

Andy was totally transfixed by a pair of big leggings I was trying to pack. They were wool and kept your legs warm if you were wearing a skirt, but he liked the sparse bits of glitter sewn in them. Eventually he convinced me to wear them. I usually didn’t put a lot of thought into what I wore, but then I remembered I was going to meet BVB! Well, the rest of them, and their crew, and maybe Falling in Reverse too, or Drama Club, or Set it Off. Holy fuck…

I looked down at my old t-shirt. It only had a couple holes, it was another Metallica t-shirt, for ‘The Unforgiven,’ I hadn’t even thought about it. Would Andy think I was obsessed with Metallica? I mean, I was a big fan, but he probably knew them... I had just picked it out because I liked it. I had a plain, black, long-sleeved shirt on underneath it. I felt the floodgates of self-hatred and doubt start to open…

“Nice try!” I looked up at Andy, holding my suitcase. “If you wallow in misery one second more, I’ll start smoking in your apartment and your crested geckos will all die horrible deaths! What kind of veterinarian are you?!? What kind of mother are you, Doc?!” Andy made a shocked face and reached for his pack.

I smiled, despite being appalled, and grabbed at him, but he easily snared me, with his ridiculously long man-arms, into a hug. “That’s better. See? You’re a sexy bitch. My sexy bitch.” Andy bent down to kiss me, and it made me so weak in the knees I dropped the CPAP and nearly collapsed.

Notes

aw shucks! last call for questions, dudes. see previous chappy's notes section, don't feel like posting it again.

on a side note, if you are a fan of:

vampire love dolls, the murderdolls, trashlight vision, acey slade & the dark party, joan jett & the blackhearts, or dope

you should check out acey slade's new album, because it is fucking awesome. it's called valentines for sick minds, and it's fucking amazing. to be honest, i'm not even sure where you can buy it- but find a way. i'm sure if you ask him on twitter or something, he could steer you in the right direction. though right now he's in russia, i think, doing a dope reunion.

Acey's twitter

I FOUND IT HERE'S WHERE YOU CAN BUY IT!!!!,