Two-Body Problem: Assignment 4


                                            Two-Body Problem

                                            By IceMan


                                            Assignment 4: Two-Body Problem with Fluid Dynamics


                                            Chapter Theme: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T0n0XBR8hcw


                                            >Winter soon turned into spring, and gentle snows into a torrent of rainshowers.

                                            >The fat droplets banged on the bronze rain drum outside in the garden, the staccato clanging making the beat for the whistling of the tea kettle on the stove.

                                            >Clear beads run in tiny rivulets down the fogged windows and a tin can of marbles was currently being dumped on the roof.

                                            “We’ve got black, green, or earl grey,” you say to Twilight as you set the kettle, a pair of mugs, a few tins of dried leaves, and some empty tea satchels on the nightstand. “What would you - Oh.”

                                            >Twilight has shimmied herself beneath the blue-striped sheets of your bed, her laptop resting on her knees above the covers.

                                            “You were cold?” you say semi-rhetorically.

                                            >She smiles and nods.

                                            >“I think black for now,” she says, taking one of the mugs.

                                            >You fill her satchel with a few spoonfuls of tea, set it in her mug, and carefully fill it with water, then repeat the process for yourself.

                                            >Handing her the mug, you snuggle in beside her and give her a kiss on the cheek.

                                            “Mountains, pine trees, a lake?” you ask. “What are you looking at?”

                                            >“CHS is offering some program over the summer at some goofy camp,” Twilight says. “Both the principal and vice principal went there as kids. Some sort of tradition about spreading it to the next generation. They always go the first week it opens.”

                                            “Curious,” you say, taking a sip of tea. “Aren’t you a little old for summer camp?”

                                            >“I don’t know. Maybe this one’s geared towards people our age. Not so restrictive as a summer camp for middle schoolers or freshmen or whatever. Do you want to go? I’m sure that Principal Celestia would -”

                                            “No. I’m not interested.”

                                            >“C’mon. It’d be fun. We get cooped up in the lab far too often.”

                                            “I think it’s the same week my research advisor wanted me to come to a conference with him.”

                                            >“No, that was the third week of June. You told me that.”

                                            “Then maybe it was the same week as Everton’s acceptance day….”

                                            >“You told me you weren’t going to that because you already visited.”

                                            “Well, then - uh - I’m sure that I -”

                                            >“Do we need to talk?”

                                            >Twilight cocks her head to one side.

                                            “Can’t we just enjoy a pleasant day indoors?” you ask.

                                            >Twilight wraps her arm around you and looks you in the eye.

                                            >“Anonymous…. What’s wrong? You can tell me,” she says.

                                            >You lean back against the pillows and sigh, twin pools of ultraviolet locked laser-like on you.

                                            “I don’t want to talk about it.”

                                            >“Not taking that, mister. This isn’t some cheesy romantic comedy. We’re going to work this out before it drives a wedge between us,” she says. “So, tell me. Whenever I bring up my friends or CHS you get all up in arms. What is it?”

                                            >Your lips remained pinned shut for a moment while Twilight’s gaze spears you like a hunted boar.

                                            “I’m not happy about your decision to transfer,” you say. “I supported it, but I’m not happy about it.”

                                            >“I know.”

                                            “I’m worried that you’re giving up on your scientific side.”

                                            >“Oh, wow. Who are you? My dad? Friendship and science aren’t mutually exclusive.”

                                            “I know it’s just… I love you because you’re a scientist. Among other things, I mean, but - I’m sorry, I just mean that -”

                                            >“No, I get it. There’s a particular type of person that is attracted to science, and that part of their personality in turns attracts you.”

                                            “Yes. Precisely.”

                                            >“And I can tell you with full honesty that I am not giving up being a scientist for this.”

                                            “Are you sure? You gave up on early enrollment to the Everton Institute of Technology.”

                                            >“Where I would have been alone all the time.”

                                            “You would have had me.”

                                            >“I have you now.”

                                            >She gives you a peck on the cheek.

                                            “Good timing,” you say with a small smile. “But what about your research into the phenomena at CHS? Your friends convinced you to give up on that. Why?”

                                            >“Because magic is incredibly dangerous. It’s a force completely beyond our control.”

                                            “And that’s precisely why we need to study it! So we can learn to control it.”

                                            >“I don’t want to have anything to do with magic anymore. Never again.”

                                            >All you can do is frown.

                                            “Okay,” you relent.

                                            >“That’s not all of it, is there?”

                                            “No.”

                                            >“Say it. Let it out. If we bottle these things up, then it’ll only get worse.”

                                            >You sigh.

                                            “Fine. When we were at Crystal Prep, we never bothered with anyone else. What changed?”

                                            >“No one at Crystal Prep was worth being friends with. They were all stuck up jerks.”

                                            “Jerks, fools, and bullies. And these people aren’t?”

                                            >“No. Ever since I’ve met them, even when I was competing against them, all they’ve ever been is… well, nice. They’ve been dying to meet you, you know. If you’d give them a chance, I think they’d really like you.”

                                            >You look down at the bedspread.

                                            “I’m scared, Twilight,” you say. “I’ve never been good with other people. I’ve never been good with anyone, except you. I was always too concerned with how I looked and what they thought of me. Reputation, my father taught me, was the most important thing a man could have. I always wanted to make sure that I wasn’t making a fool of myself.”

                                            >“You’re worried you’d look bad in front of my friends? Anonymous, that’s ridiculous. They’d like you whoever you are. I turned into a literal demon of darkness and hatred, and they still like me. Actually, two of us have done that….”

                                            “What?” you say, your eyes perking up.

                                            >Twilight jerks away from you.

                                            >“Nevermind, it’s not important. I - I don’t want to talk about it.”

                                            >You cock your head to one side.

                                            “Do we need to talk?”

                                            >Twilight hits you with a pillow, and you can’t help but laugh.

                                            >“It’s not funny, Anon!”

                                            “I’m sorry,” you say, choking back a few chuckles. “I didn’t mean -”

                                            >“You didn’t mean what? Mr. ‘I’m so afraid to meet new people’ trying to compare his problems with… with….”

                                            “Turning into a literal demon of darkness and hatred? And being haunted by that?” you ask, clasping Twilight’s hand. “That’s not you, and never will be.”

                                            >“That’s what they all say,” she replies, wriggling her hand out of your grasp and turning her back to you.

                                            “Then I don’t know what to tell you.”

                                            >“Everyday, Anon. I can feel the echo of that rush of power. It feels terrifying.”

                                            “Everyday I can feel the shame of being the worst in sports, the worst at friends, the worst at life. Nobody ever wanted to be friends with little bookworm Anon.”

                                            >“You think that’s something unique to you? What do you think my life was before we met? And now my problems are so much bigger than a little social anxiety. I can’t understand why anyone would still want to be friends with someone as dangerous as me.”

                                            “You’re right,” you say. “Maybe problems seem small. But they are still my problems. We both think we can solve each other’s problems so easily. I need to be more confident. You need to reject something that’s not you. On the surface that seems so easy. But it’s not.”

                                            >Twilight nods.

                                            >The downpour intensifies, a box of ball bearings ripped open in the heavens and tumbling down onto the roof.

                                            “Well, if you’re so dangerous, and I’m so inept, why do we stay together?” you say, pulling her close, the warmth of her soft skin against your chest, her lightly citrus-scented hair brushing against your face.

                                            >“Because that’s what broken things do. They end up at the bottom together.”

                                            >Your lips intertwine.

                                            >She wriggles out of her sweatshirt, and you relax around her to let her throw the garment onto the floor.

                                            “Not so cold anymore?” you ask as she smooches you again.

                                            >Your manhood swells in your pants.

                                            >“I’m never cold when I’m with you.”

                                            “Perfect. Pure cheesy goodness,” you say with a chuckle.

                                            >“We’re scientists, not poets,” Twilight says, running a finger down your chest.

                                            “Whatever you say, my orchid, the bloom of my soul, my eternal flame -”

                                            >“Oh, stop it, and get your shirt off.”

                                            “Fine, fine.”

                                            >You slowly remove the offending clothing, while Twilight does hers.

                                            “Ah, the majesty of the human form, its supple curves and -”

                                            >“Stop it. I know you’re going to keep doing it just to bother me but -” she says, starting to slip her sweatpants off.

                                            “But what? What’s a little bit of the mind to go with matters of the heart?” you ask, undoing your belt buckle and getting your jeans off.

                                            >“Smooth. Keep it up and you’ll have all the girls.”

                                            “I already have all the girls I could ever need.”

                                            >“Eh….”

                                            “Not as good?”

                                            >“We’ll work on it.”

                                            “Guess so.”

                                            >“Good. Now, help me get this thing off.”

                                            >Gingerly, you reach over Twilight’s shoulders to undo the clasp of her bra, quickly giving her a peck on the cheek as you do.

                                            >Near simultaneously, the two of you remove the last of your undergarments.

                                            >For a few moments, you stare, stark naked, at one another.

                                            >Then, you shower the other in sloppy kisses.

                                            >Your mouth runs like a sewing machine along Twilight’s neck until your lips once again meet.

                                            >Entangling your bodies together like a pair of snakes, you roll around beneath the light and airy covers, smooth, soft skin against skin.

                                            >Reaching up, you grab hold of Twilight’s firm breasts and give them a gentle squeeze, feeling the flesh yield against your grasp.

                                            “Top or bottom?” you ask.

                                            >“Bottom,” she says quietly, moaning faintly.

                                            “Very well,” you say, setting her down lightly.

                                            >You pull open the drawer on your nightstand.

                                            “Whoops. Looks like I dropped my monster condom for my magnum dong.”

                                            >Twilight bursts out laughing, and, though you hold your straight face for a second, you can’t help but join in.

                                            “You ready?” you ask, once your giggles begin to fade. “Because I’m about to rock your world.”

                                            >“Christ, stop it,” Twilight says, “You’re an embarrassment.”

                                            “Well, you know what they say. I use lazy attempts at humor to hide my crippling social anxiety and lack of any real friends. But anyways.”

                                            >Slowly, at first, you drive your length into Twilight’s depths, eliciting a muted squeal of pleasure.

                                            >At least, you hope.

                                            >Not having much experience in these matters is really not helping your composure right now.

                                            >Your muscles were wound-up springs, held back by an unseen force.

                                            >“You’re tense,” Twilight says. “Relax. I think we’re supposed to enjoy this. Or do you want me to lie back and think of England?”

                                            >Taking a deep breath, you calm your nerves, racing with the electricity of a 10000 volt power cable.

                                            >Gradually, you develop a rhythm to your thrusting, a metronomic in-out-in-out, not too forceful, not too light.

                                            >Twilight locks her legs around yours, then pulls herself up to plant a nice wet one on your mouth.

                                            >Reaching down, you take a quick handful of her firm, pert buttocks.

                                            >She hums lustfully, the vibrations filling your mouth like a baritone choir in a cathedral.

                                            >The high-toned slapping of flesh on flesh made a nice accompaniment.

                                            >Her thighs were thin and lithe, but with just a bit of velvet pliancy, like green saplings wrapped in deer fur.

                                            >Her stomach was malleable, but not gelatinous, neither well-toned by exercise nor turned pillow-like with sloth, but a happy medium.

                                            >Her bosom was… well, to be frank, it was unimpressive, but that was of little matter to you.

                                            >What mattered most was the piercing intelligence that hid behind her brilliant gaze.

                                            >There were flames within them, the fire of Prometheus, an inferno turning the chill of the dreary weather into the nuclear core of a star.

                                            >Thoughts escaped you, rationality replaced with raw emotion and desire.

                                            >For those moments, logic and analysis didn’t matter.

                                            >Nothing mattered but an inseparable bond, the cruel illogic of lust and love.

                                            >A shiver ran up your spine.

                                            >Gradually, you could feel a bit of fluid dripping around your nethers.

                                            “Are you close?” you ask, more of a grunt of exertion than an interrogative.

                                            >Twilight could only nod.

                                            “Good. Per aspera…”

                                            >“Ad astra,” Twilight finishes.

                                            >And, with that, you release inside of her, flopping on top of her like the act had robbed you of the last of your lifeforce, a last burst of pleasure running through your veins.

                                            >Both of you exhaling like a pair of heaving steam locomotives, you share one more dynamic kiss.

                                            >Bodies still entwined, you gradually drift to rest.