To be Human

by Fullerjay

Summary:

Oh to be human to be shit on metaphorically and not literally.
Jean Loo is not famous he doesn't have a lot of money He doesn't have groupies or fans but he does have a shitty apartment and a diploma and that's something right? He's not a failure right? He's not some kissless loser who wallows in his own pity

Chapter 1: New beginnings

The dorm was empty, all of the posters, decorations, and small trinkets in his dorm were either thrown away or packed in a box left in a storage container. Jean’s old roommate has already gone, leaving him with a half-assed hug, a slap on the back, and well-wishes. After tapping all the other miscellaneous items into a box, he stuffed it into his dingy used car and headed to the apartment complex. Leaving four years of his life behind he's pretty shocked that he got accepted into the school. He had no prior documentation. No birth certificate, no citizenship, not even a high school diploma. Even still he earned a GPA of 3.7 and a Bachelor of Arts degree in accounting.

*Sigh* “c'est ça”

He entered the seedy building, and just as he expected, it was nothing special. The carpet was sticky, the counters were dusty and the doorman couldn't give a shit even if you paid him to. “The elevators broke. Sorry. You have to take the stairs” After two flights of stairs, he entered his new home. A one-bed, one-bath apartment. A small living space attached to the kitchen that only consisted of two cooking counters, an oven, a dingy refrigerator, and a sink. The ceiling dripped, weird stains were found in every corner of the room, both the walls and the doors were littered with dents and holes and the carpet had a weird smell. Two people were yelling upstairs, a baby crying on his left side and a couple having sex on his right. The apartment was far from nice, but he was being honest, it was a dump but it was his dump.

 

He dropped the boxes on the cheap, stained linoleum floor and kicked the door behind him. “Ma porte d'erreur,” he muttered under his breath. After spending an hour unpacking some of his stuff and eating some pretty decent orange chicken and lo mein he spent the next hour doom scrolling and reading hundreds of Thiscord messages. He posted a picture he took at his graduation wearing his regalia holding his diploma

BBarry💄: congratulations Darling!! !! You've come so far!!

Good’O Jonny: Well look at you moving up in the world

A mirror: I'm quite happy for you Jean you're actually doing something with your life

Rebbie 🖕: 4 years of college and probably still a virgin

Though the compliments were genuine, they still left a bad taste in his mouth. Did they really expect him to crash and burn in the first five years of being a human? They really thought so little of him. Sure, he didn't own makeup brands or regularly star on TV shows like Barry and Amir. But he did something, an education with a plaque with his name, ‘Jean Loo Pissoir’, to prove it. And yes, he hasn't had a relationship physically or romantically, nor has he ever kissed anyone since that humiliating kiss with player. It didn't matter. None of that mattered who gives a shit about them anyway. It's not like he wanted their approval. He tossed his phone and decided to ruminate on the floor for the rest of the night before drifting off to sleep.

 

“Look down, look down Don't look 'em in the eye Look down, look down, You're here until you die”

Jean moaned in annoyance as he grabbed his phone. Due to multiple drops, his phone's sensitivity was not the best. After a couple of minutes of struggling to unlock his phone, he gave up halfway through and tossed it back to its previous spot “ahhh merde let it go to voicemail”

‘PLAYER’ (missed call)

Chapter 2: Self-Care

Summary:

Jean loo enjoys a little bit of self-care

Four vacuums, two upright and two handhelds. Two mops, and a wet vac. Those are just some of the things he's bought over the past 5 years being human. He doesn't have a problem, there's nothing wrong with cleaning twice a week or having a basic routine. Sweep, vacuum, mop, sweep again, and vacuum one last time until he's satisfied.

The sticky brown linoleum floor was now a pleasant beige with some stains still embedded in the grout. It took 5 cycles of vacuuming to finally get the smell out of the carpet. By the time he was done, the water in the tank was pitch black.
It was still grody in appearance, but it was lighter in color.

“Oh mon Dieu. How long has it been since you've been cleaned Mon cher?”

He poured the dirty water down the drain and did a quick scrub down and disinfectant of the kitchen counter and refrigerator. His next stop was the bathroom. The bathroom was once his own personal hellscape and now his own personal escape. Enjoying the monotony of skin routines, flossing, hair dying, manis and pedis, and his favorite soaking in the tub and doing other various self-care activities to pass the time. The room was surprisingly spacious, with a shower and tub combo, sink, and a large counter for all his everyday hygiene products he needs. It also had a decent-sized mirror. It still had the typical ugly pastel wallpaper with clashing tile lining the bottom half.

He started with the tub with some heavy-duty chemicals and a brush. Scrubbing endlessly until the grout was a decent shade and gray. He spent at least 45 minutes wiping away all the hard water stains that littered the glass panels.

“Putain, ont-ils même essayé de nettoyer ?”

The sink and the counter were pretty clean. It was just a quick swipe to get rid of some excess soap scum and toothpaste buildup. The mirror was nothing special, nothing special to Jean personally. It wasn't as pretty or luxurious as it thinks it is. It didn't have any fancy molding to make it more presentable; it was just a sheet of glass plastered to the wall. And even still, with its simplicity, it was still a bitch to clean, wasting precious time trying to get rid of every streak after wiping it down with a paper towel.

“Enfer! Even as a human, you're still a pain in Jean Loo's ass”

Jean rested against the counter deciding to take a small break. Despite his dislike for mirrors he always seems to find himself standing at one. Depending on the day, the mood, and even mental state, he'd always find himself admiring or grimacing at his appearance. Today was an okay day, meaning he can look past his childish freckles, frown lines, and upturned nose. Why people want to get plastic surgery to look like that, he'll never know. Regardless, he was satisfied with how we looked. A nice jawline, natural beauty marks, pretty blue eyes, and perfectly shaped eyebrows. He caressed his face, feeling his warm soft skin and prickly stubble on his chin. His lips had a natural promptness, and his hair was soft but a little too thick for his liking as there was a prominent cowlick on his crown.

He needs to touch up his hair. Eh, starting to look green.”

Freckles and moles were scattered about his body; the majority were clustered near his shoulders, but quickly spread out, reaching his lower back. He had several moles on his chest. One near his collarbone, three on his pecs, and one next to his belly button. He tracked his finger along his top surgery scars. Easier access to surgeries was just one of the medical perks to being friends with Freya and Hank number 3 that and not going into financial ruin after treatment for carpal tunnel. He ran his fingers through the inky black hair on his lower stomach that grew thicker the lower it went. He did have some body hair, by no means was he Freddy Yeti, but he does spend a great amount of time grooming and trimming.

“Ugh! Jean Loo look at you you're starting to look unkept.. like a tramp”

When staring at himself, a certain number of times, a strange sensation always leaves him feeling warm, his chest loose, and his shoulders relaxed. Bathsheba called this feeling euphoria. It's like dipping into a hot bath after a long day, letting that hot water wrap around your body, relieving all of the tension residing in your muscles. All the worry and doubt you've had suddenly doesn't exist and none of it truly mattered at the end of the day.

“I guess the mirror isn't so bad. Maybe I can buy another one. For the bedroom”

Jean took 3 deep breaths like this therapist instructed him to do every day. He lifted himself from the counter turning to face his final project: the toilet. He let out a deep sigh. He filled his bucket with fresh clean water and cleaning solution and got on his knees.

He first started with the body, probably scraping away access and dirt and debris, slowly making his way up to the trapway.

It was quite obvious that the toilet had been neglected, but it wasn't a surprise to him. That's how it usually was when it comes to objects like this, no one truly cared about it. If they did they were usually very rare and looked down upon.

He wiped down the outside of the bowl before starting with the inside scraping, away at each rim hole.

His face twisted into a look of pure disgust as brown bits washed down the bowl with every flush until it ran clear.

That's all he could ever feel when washing this thing, pure disgust. That's what it is and that's how it's supposed to be. While everything else in the bathroom enhanced the beauty of the human form, the toilet's job was to hide some of the less favorable parts of it.

His arm went sore endlessly, scraping away the built-up limescale that covered the bottom of the bowl.

The stink, the smell, the bacteria, the illness, the bile, nothing but pure waste. Some of the ugliest bodily functions and the human experience all happen in the bathroom and mainly on the toilet.

He wiped down the toilet seat. He paid extra attention to the commonly ignored underside, where most of the filth resides.

Eating food past its due date, too much drinking, too much partying, itchy infections, blood and so many other horrors that many other objects couldn't bear to witness. But it shouldn't complain. It's not allowed to complain that's it's job. That's what it's supposed to do, sit down, shut up, and take it. It shouldn't have dreams. It shouldn't have goals or hobbies or any aspirations outside of that.

He cleaned off the dust that was caked onto the toilet tank lid

If it did it would ultimately crash and burn while everyone else laughed at it. Why did it even bother to try to begin with? It had one job and one job alone. It was gross and borderline shameful but it was fucking easy. Easier than getting up at five in the morning. Making quotas, meeting goals, filing taxes, doing audits, and trying to maintain a smile while your co-workers make the same three jokes every fucking day. The worst part, similar to its old job it couldn't complain.

He ripped open a small plastic packet, pulled out a blue pellet, and dropped it into its tank to treat mineral deposits and hard water scale. He gave it two more flushes until the water turned blue before getting up off his knees

It didn't want to complain. It liked its job. It worked hard to earn this job and was proud to get an education for this job. It could be worse but it could have been so much better. It could have been successful, with fans and admirers, maybe even stalkers, but no, that just wasn't its path in life. Did it not try hard enough? Did it not push itself further, or maybe it quit too soon? Or maybe it was just scared. Scared to put itself out there. Scared to let its voice be heard and then ultimately have others perceive it and form opinions about it without having any power over the public's perception.

Jean looked down at the toilet. It probably hasn't seen this type of care in years. Its porcelain shined like it came fresh from the valdivrepairs big box and big deals home improvement store. Still naive and still full of hope not knowing what its true purpose was going to be.

Jean once again rested himself on the counter and stared at the mirror, looking at his frown lines, childish freckles, upturned nose, dark circles, off-White teeth,acne scars, and tired eyes. He wiped away the snot and tears from his face.

“Look down, look down Don't look 'em in the eye. Look down, look down You're here until you die”

*Sniff…..sigh* “fuck”

He pulled at his phone and rejected the call. He didn't have the energy to talk to them anyway, plus phone was 4%.

‘PLAYER’ (missed call)

 

He turned off the light and headed to bed.

Notes:

Anyway Jean loo in trans masc because why the fuck not
Also yeah he wasn't wearing a shirt throughout this.

Let's face it, after being realized, he just stopped wearing shirts unless he has to. He's crazy but he is free

Chapter 3: Four eyed loser

Summary:

Jean struggles with change

“Number one or number two?”

“Number one”

“Okay. Number one or number two?”

“Number two”

“All right, all right, how about this one? Is this one clearer or is it the same”

“It's a little more clearer”

“Okay, okay, good. Can you read the bottom row for me, please?”

When the only access to the world was a two-story home. He never really worried about eyesight. Anything blurry, he could easily walk up closer to observe and read it, no squinting, no straining, and no headaches. That was until he became human, which meant getting up extra early and making sure he got a seat in the front row for class, and even with the accommodation, he still had to lean forward and squint just to read the teacher's handwriting.

At first, he thought it was normal. Just some of the symptoms of being a human. He hasn't been outside for his whole life. So, of course, it will be a little weird the first couple of years. Of course, he will struggle to open his eyes on those extra sunny days. Stop signs were supposed to be that blurry when far away. That's why they made them into a specific shape and color. It was completely normal for lights to be stretched out like that especially at night. That's how it's supposed to be when you're human. Humans naturally have shitty eyesight.

“You have an astigmatism Mr. Pissoir. Also, moderate myopia,”

The ophthalmologist wrote his prescription and handed it to Jean with a sweet smile. “It's no big deal. I recommend picking up some glasses outside in our waiting room. We have a nice variety. Once you're done, you can hand them to Barbara at the front desk with your prescription, and they'll be ready in…let's say 2 weeks or so.”

Jean said nothing, taking the prescription and rereading it over and over again. He only came in here for an exam because he was instructed to after failing his first driving course. He got everything right. Turn signals, stop signs, yielding everything yet somehow he's still failed all because he couldn't read some stupid letters on a board.

“So I need glasses?”

“ Well, yes, if. If you want to drive legally, you are required to wear glasses. So yes you do need them…”

“Ok”

He walked outside with his prescription mowing over the overwhelming varieties in the men's section. Silver frames, turtle shells, gold, white gold, rose gold, titanium, square, round, rectangular, octagonal, aviators. Different shapes. Different varieties, different combinations. Some made his face look fat. Some made his face look too thin. These kept sloping down. These ones irritated the bridge of his nose. Round ones made him look too young, squares made him look too old.

Logically knew something like this was not that big of a deal, but it just wasn't planned. He didn't plan to get fucked up eyesight. He didn't plan to get glasses. He didn't plan on going to college. He didn't plan on pivoting his life goals. Or putting his dream on hold and ultimately just giving it up, or losing his passion for (c)rapping. He didn't plan to lose a significant part of himself, to lose Lil Craper. To realize he was nothing but a front, a persona, a coping mechanism. Just something to get him through the day and distract him from his realities of being a toilet. Even back then he knew. Of course, he fucking knew. Everybody knew. They didn't believe that he was that stupid to think that crapping [note: cool rapping]. And his identity as a toilet didn't correlate.

It just wasn't part of his plan. None of this was. His goal was ultimately to stay as a toilet and to live the rest of his life in delusion until he was dumped on the side of the road somewhere and be picked up to rot in a landfil-

“See anything you like?”

Jean felt his soul jump from his body. How long has she been standing there? “ You've been staring at these for a while. We have something similar on sale around 50% off” she picked up a pair of thick black glasses. The type you see on TV worn by stereotypical nerd characters. It wasn't slick or shiny or fancy. They weren't cool. Not like he imagined he'd be. He picked up the glasses, feeling the cheap plastic before putting them on his face. Just as he expected, they look terrible when wearing them. They were too tight and the frames looked too close together and they just didn't sit right

“Hmm. These are…” he might as well take them. They're inexpensive and effective and looking at himself in the mirror was getting exhausting. “I'll take them.” He hated them, but he had no other choice. It was a feeling that you had to get used to. After taking down some more information and doing some weird adjustments in measurements. It was time to wait.

After the two-week wait, glasses would be another thing, a part of his life. He put them on and turned to his reflection. They looked all right. The frame's thickness is a lot thinner, and the shape is a little more rectangular than he remembered.

“ So the ones you tried were actually the kids' size. My best guess someone put them in the wrong place. So we did find the regular adult ones, same brand, similar style, but we gave you the child's price because that wasn't your fault, that was on us.”

It wasn't so bad; He actually looked pretty good in them. He got some compliments from teachers and staff. One of his nicer-looking classmates noticed and pulled out her own pair. They were much nicer, a more luxurious brand, but they were still glasses. He did feel a little bit better when she proclaimed that they were twins now.

He finally got his license. It only took a second attempt, and he passed with flying colors. He gleamed, staring at his driver's license, wearing his brand new gold frames. The clerk was a little taken aback by his choice to pick something from the women's section. Especially with the choice he picked, most people who wear oval-shaped glasses tend to be over the age of 50. But she quietly saw the vision after he put them on. “Non, non listen, Barb, hear me out. Imaginer these, but with a green gradient tint. Pretty clean no?”

 

Jean always had an intense fashion and became somewhat of a contrarian. Always going against the grain it was never truly latching on to trends or the mainstream. It showed in his attire, his footwear, and even the car he drives. He gained a unique love for the vintage and old. That couldn't be truer with his eyewear. Sorting through bins in the thrift shop to see what gems he could find.

Silver frames, tortoiseshell, gold, white gold, rose gold, titanium, square, round, rectangular, octagonal, aviators. Different shapes. Different varieties, different combinations, and styles to choose from. Round ones made him look youthful, square ones made him look more mature. His best find was at a garage sale at DivaAcres retirement homes. It was a pair of old black Brownline glasses, with silver accents. Everyone in the office calls them grandpa glasses, which they were but he still looks good in them.

 

He had an overwhelming amount to choose from all neatly stored in old shoe boxes. Organized by color, shape, and brand. Separated from those that are prescriptions and those that need to be prescribed. With all the variety he always seems to go back to a single pair. Rimless frames with gold accents and a dark blue tint. The end piece and temple were a little wider than the average glasses with a swirly loop design engraved in the metal.

“These ones are cool. They kind of look like glasses rappers used to wear back in the 2000s.” The desk clerk giggled before taking them to the back to fill the prescription. Jean’s face turns a bright pink, and he hasn't thought about that part of himself in years. If his past self could see him now he'd…. he'd. He'd probably call him a four-eyes loser. Even still lil Crapper couldn't deny the finesse of these particular glasses.

These pairs were special and had sentimental value to him. They were old but timeless. Right now, they aren't in fashion, and they aren't very popular. They could one day make a comeback and leave their mark on the world before slowly fizzling back into obscurity. The influence that it leaves behind will truly stay. That time in the spotlight may be gone, but it's never truly forgotten

“‘People turn heads when I'm on the scene/ all the honeys and the hubbies/love to hear them scream/pretty as a model in a magazine’..... still got it”

Chapter 4: New arrival

Summary:

Jean gets a new roommate pt1

Scrape……. scrape…….. scrape……

 

The scratching noise started around fall. At the same time, morning and noon, it was feeding time. If he didn't get to it right away, the cat ,would start crying.

 

“Merrrrrrrr…….merrrrr…….merrrrrr

 

Jean tried leaving the can outside for her to eat in advance. One in the morning when getting ready for work and another before going to bed. It would be picked at by birds, insects, and squirrels, leaving nothing for her to eat. Forcing him to work around her schedule.

 

She didn't care. When she was hungry she let everyone know. Shit. The only reason he started feeding her is because the neighbor upstairs thought it would be effective to throw a shoe at her, trying to get her off their balcony causing her to fall on his. Making her his responsibility.

 

Scrape……. scrape…….. scrape……

 

Feeding times were 9am, 6pm, and 3am.

 

He has several alarms on his phone. The first one, he has to get up, feed her, go back to bed, and get enough sleep to wake up at 5 am for work. The second one, he spends his 45-minute break driving home, dumping food into her little bowl, and driving back to work, only giving him around 20 minutes to eat his own food.

 

Merrrrrrrr……..merrrrrrrr………merrrrrr

 

The last one wasn't so bad but it was still tedious to take the time out of his day to take care of this lone cat. It would never be at a convenient time either. Usually, when his body relaxes, his mind starts to go blank as the TV lulls him to sleep on his couch. Or when he had a voom meeting with his firm's controller. That is when she decides to make herself known, embarrassing him in front of his coworkers and boss.

 

“Seems like you have a little visitor,” hehe

 

*Sigh* “I am so sorry. She is not really my cat.........ok ok, I'm coming”

 

Despite his annoyance, he gave her the best he could afford. ‘Valdivian delights pet food, tuna, and chicken with gravy’ unintentionally spoiling her. She wouldn't eat anything else. He tried dry food one day, and she refused to eat it. He had to use his own canned tuna and cold rotisserie chicken from his fridge to feed her that day.

 

“You are such a spoiled little lady. Feeding you human food. honteux”

 

The first month, it was pretty easy. He put a small box filled with shredded newspaper for her to sleep in and an old cereal bowl to dump food in and go. And it was like that for a while until he made the first mistake. Hours of overtime work, reading emails, and studying for his first CMA exam, burnout was inevitable; he needed a break. Cigarettes? He was trying to quit. Pot? He didn't have any in his stash, and it was too late at night to call Bobby. Porn? Hmmm….no…he has to be in a mood for that.

 

Scrape…. Scrape… scrape

 

“I guess fresh air wouldn't hurt”

 

Instead of his usual routine of opening the can, dumping it, and going to bed, he sat down with her while she ate. This gave him a chance to really look at the rough shape she was in. She walked with a limp, hurting her hind leg after the fall. Her fur was matted and patchy, with several bald spots showing irritation underneath. He couldn't even tell what color she was with all that filth caked on, and the worst part was that she smelled like a walking litter box.

 

Some of the kinder residents would also leave food out for her. But some would call her rabid, filthy, disgusting, as if any of that was her fault, as if she wanted to smell like that, look like that, and be in the condition that she was in. She couldn't help that; she had no control over the smell or the filth, yet everyone blamed her for that. He knows the feeling a little too well

 

His first attempt to pet her, she swatted it at his hand, hissing before running off, only coming back when he went back inside. His second attempt, he did nothing, simply waited for her to come to him. His hand was firmly placed next to her food bowl waiting for her reaction. Instead of running, she simply hissed as a warning not to go any further. Several nights went on like this until she brushed her head against his knuckles. He let her sniff him and finally gained her trust. He got to pet her for the first time hearing her purrs was like an arrow through a heart.

 

“Aww, aren't you a sweet little lady, huh?”

 

For the next week, he fed her, pampered her, and gave her all the love that she deserved, but he was also preparing for the most painful thing he had to do to her. The limp was getting worse, and she could barely walk up and down the stairs, forcing her to stay near his balcony. Not straying any further like she used to. Her skin looked more agitated by the day he needed to do something. He called his local vet clinic for info and started to plan, It was time. He bought a cage lined with old pillow sheets and her favorite treats. All he needed to do was wait.

 

3am rolled around, and just as he expected

 

*SLAM*

 

She was frantically running around trying to find an escape. Her scared cries were painful to hear, but it had to be done. He put a blanket over the cage and let her settle for a couple of hours before putting her in the back of his car and driving to the vet. The drive was awful. She didn't do well in cars. Crying, screaming, throwing up, with all the stress, she soiled the pillowcase, forcing him to roll the windows down just to breathe.

 

After signing in, she was taken straight back to be examined and treated. Jean's face flushed with embarrassment as she swatted and hissed at the staff. Who were doing nothing but trying to help her. They took it in good spirits, nothing out of the ordinary for cats, but for her and everyone else's safety, they sedated her. They shaved off her fur and put her in the bathing station, giving her a nice scrub down with antifungal.

 

“She does have some skin irritation due to overgrowth of the fur that can be treated. We are going to need to do a blood test and some other exams for her hind leg.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, of course I can pick her back up at what time?”

 

“ Well, we can't give her to you just yet we have to check for a chip and look through our lost and found records if we can't find the owner or they don't show up we will call you and we can see if you're eligible to adopt her”

 

His heart sank. He really thought this was going to be an in-and-out situation, but now he had to wait for 2 weeks just in case her owner showed up. If you can even call them owners, who would neglect a living thing for so long that they end up in such an abysmal state?

 

The vet tech let him see her one last time. He tried to keep a straight face looking at her; her mesmerizing copper eyes were now skewed, and her gaping mouth was clearly zonked out from the sedation. He scooped her into his arms like a baby. She was a baby, she was his baby.

 

“Aww you're a cutie little lady mon chaton”

 

Her body was fully shaved, leaving only her face to be covered in fur. She appears to be an orange and white tabby with orange most likely covering her upper body and tail. He took a glance at her back leg. It looked terrible. At best, it was probably infected; at worst, it was necrotic. From what he could tell, she needed surgery.

 

“What will happen to her leg?”

 

“We will have to see. Our best guess is we might have to amputate”

 

Jean's stomach turned at the thought of his little lady going through major surgery by herself. She'll be disabled, making getting around a lot harder. His apartment was small but still had obstacles. He's going to have to buy some step stools for his bed and the couch. She won't be able to go outside anymore, meaning she's not allowed to be on the balcony unless he gets a baby gate for her. Would she be able to climb a cat tree or play with toys the way she wants, but if she tries to jump and falls, what if she has a scratch, and she can't reach it, and he's not there to do it for her?

 

Thoughts and worries scattered through his mind about what he was going to do when he took her home or if he took her home. Right now, that fate is not determined, it's kind of shitty, but he prays that she's a stray and has no original owner or a home to go back to. With all his complaining about getting up in the middle of the night or the back and forth of going home and back to work just to take care of her, he actually liked it. He would always check his time, looking forward to going to his apartment just to see her, just for a couple of minutes, or sitting down next to her, enjoying the calm atmosphere of an autumn afternoon or night sky, instead of his chronic rumination in his bed.

 

He had someone to go home to, an actual friend. As sad as it sounds, Jean doesn't have that many friends around where he is. After being realized, most of the objects scattered across the country and across the world, really making it difficult for anyone to meet up. He wouldn't consider anyone in his office a close friend even though he was friendly with them. A lot of them were a lot older than him……. Well, he thinks they are… He's not really sure how his age works. Mayor Celia and Dorian are much older than him, but so is the microwave? He was installed during a renovation in 1998, but he was manufactured in 85… doing the math…….He's technically 40, but those 13 years he wasn't in function, and he really wasn't alive???? So he's 27??? Not adding the 5 years of being a human. Would that even count?

 

“Mr pissoir! We need to take the cat now”

 

“Ah! Sorry! I was…. I was umm doing the math. In my head….. of some things I should buy if I do and get her”

 

The vet tech smiled calmly, taking the cat out of Jean's arms. She put her back and her holding cell. She took the plaque with some of her information on it.

 

“Well, if you're fortunate to bring her home, we will provide you with a couple of months' worth of food, a litter box, and some toys to get you started. Do you have a name for her?

 

“moi?.....uh, well, I call her lady sometimes, also chaton.. I guess Lady Chaton.…. yeah, Lady Chaton. Lady for short.”

 

He said his last goodbye to Lady and went back home to no one. No one to talk to, no one to feed or take care of. He never realized how lonely his life really was before he met Lady. The two weeks felt like two years. He spends most of his time distracting himself by scrolling through her information repeatedly, expecting status updates, or sitting outside in his usual spot smoking a cigarette. He said he'd quit, but the stress of not knowing if his lady was ok was getting to him, and it showed. Checking for notifications every hour, snapping at coworkers. Staring at the ceiling every night, being plagued by every negative outcome his mind could come up with.

 

What if the original owners show up? What if they found a chip and he wasn't allowed to take her home? What if someone took her home before he did, and the vet tech didn't call him like they promised? What if there was a complication, what if she got worse, what if she died, and they didn't want to call him? What if she were gone and he'd be alone again with nothing to look forward to? He just needs a phone call, an update, something, anything. That's all he needs just to make these two weeks-

 

‘Look down, look down Don't look 'em in the eye Look down, look down You're here until you die’

 

Jean stared at his phone. Reading that name he felt the same small sense of pressure start to fester in his head, always in the same place on the right side. He pushed that feeling down and cancelled the call.

 

‘PLAYER' (MISSED CALL)

 

“Now is not the time, mon amour. I am in a crisis.”

 

He took three deep breaths and DMed Mateo, the animal expert. A couple of hours of back-and-forth questions and answers. He made a list. Stainless steel litter box with high walls, wide bowl, a walk ramp, a stress blanket and a cat tree with steps. He spent the last week busying himself with online shopping, research and talking on message boards until he got the phone call.

 

"Hello Mr Pissoir."

 

"Is Lady available to adopt?"

 

"......Yes we just need your info-"

 

" It's already in the system under Jean Loo. 'J-e-a-n' not 'J-o-h-n' "

 

"Oh! Ok.... Here it is... well what time would you like to pick her-"

 

" I'll be there in 30 minutes"

 

Jean hopped in his car not giving a single shit about the speed limit. He was finally taking his baby home. He ran up to the counter slightly scaring the lady at the computer.

“I'm here to adopt Lady. I'm taking her home”

“Yes Lady CHA- ton??”

“..........no. it is lady shah-TON. It means Kitty in French”

“Oh how fancy…. Right so Lady Chaton is ready for adoption. We just need you to sign some papers here you go. She has been chipped and is in our system. We did some blood work and we didn't see anything wrong…. And we also did a complimentary spay and vaccination so she has all her shots.”

She led him to the back where she was out cold ready to go home without any of the previous drama. She was still bald but her skin was fully healed showing no signs of irritation. Her scar from amputee surgery was visible, her stitches clean and neat no sign of complication. Even still she was required to wear a donut around your neck for at least five more days to stop her from licking at it.

“her coat should be back within 2 months.”

She handed him her pain medication instructing him to give it to her every week along with some toys and food. He held her once more, cradling her like a baby she is. Still with those funny skewed eyes, sedated for the car trip to her new home. She was placed back into her cage with a fresh new blanket and a catnip pillow. After signing more documents he was off.

He placed the cage in the car. He took a quick picture and sent it to Mateo.

[ Mateo: Is this her? 🧡🤍 🐈

Jean: Yes she's kinda out of it right now I got most of the stuff you told me to get but I can't afford the cat tree :(

Mateo: ok ]

Jean waited a couple minutes expecting another response but it never came. Slightly disappointed he put his phone back in his pocket and hit the road. The car ride was quiet and peaceful. No crying, no throwing up, only the sweet little sounds of her snores filled the car. He made it to his complex. He carried her cage in one arm and struggled to hold her other necessities.
He waddled past the doorman whose eyes didn't leave his game system. Even after Jean dropped her food bowl. Twice.

“The elevator is broken”

“Again?”

“sorry man. These apartments are shit. I don't know what you expect”

“Can you at least help me up the stairs??”

 

The doorman sighed and dropped his game system loudly, wanting jeans to know his annoyance. He took the pets supplies and followed Jean upstairs taking small glances at Lady. She was starting to wake up, her eyes glazed over her body moving slightly with every step Jean took. He set the cage in the living room leaving the door open for her to wander around when she's ready. The doorman leaned down leering at Lady through her cage.

“You know there's a pet fee right?”

“I already talked to the landlord”

“Really what the old man say?”

“Eh…just an extra 100 on the rent…..hm”

“Wow, how generous. You're lucky he likes animals. Well I have to go. Here's all your…. Stuff. I guess see ya”

“Thank you…uhh”

“Devin”

“Thank you, Devin”

Lady stayed in her cage most of the day. Giving Jean enough time to set everything up for her. He placed her cat litter box next to the balcony door hidden behind the couch giving her a little bit of privacy. Her pet bowl was in the kitchen next to the counters along with the container on the treats. He decided to spoil her a little by buying her two pet beds. One pink one next to the couch right in front of the TV and a green one in the bedroom. He placed two ramps one next to the couch and the other right beside his bed. By noon everything was set up. He glanced back at the cage to find Lady had disappeared

Panic ensued as he frantically looked around the apartment wasn't that big so it shouldn't be this difficult to find her. And they're looking into his bed five times and empty couch eight times. He finally found her nestled behind the end table holding the TV. He reached out and quickly drew back after being swatted at.

“merde, on va vraiment recommencer”

He decided to give her some space and went about his day preparing food, chores and studying for his exam. Night rolled around and he was in his usual spot on the couch browsing Valdiviflix and Viewlu. Lady sniffed at Jean’s pajama pants leg gently pawing at it. He didn't react, pretending not to notice her not wanting to scare her. She brushed her head against him letting out little purrs and chirps. Jean slapped at his couch encouraging her to walk up.

“ *kids kiss* Come up Lady use the little ramp”

Instead of using the nice ramp he spent 30 dollars on, she decides it best to simply hop on the couch.

“Really?”

She sniffed around examining her surroundings kneading at the couch cushions before being distracted by a tassel on a throw pillow until she got bored. She hopped off with ease already used to her tripedal state, which makes sense she was already using 3 out of 4 her limbs when first meeting her. She roamed around her new home sniffing and poking at every object she could reach. Jumping on the counter pushing at pots and pans but quickly fleeing when she accidentally opened the microwave door.

His bedroom was next hopping on the dresser and knocking down his jewelry box and several bottles of nail polish. Nothing really sparked her interest in this room but she did enjoy the short rest in his dirty close hamper. The next stop was the bathroom where she conveniently found her new owner using the bathroom. She jumped to the sink and onto the toilet tank and began to brush her head against his ear.

 

After he finished up Jean headed to the kitchen with Lady in tow. dumping some food in her bowl before heading off the bed for the next morning. He expected his day to end peacefully and finally get a good night's rest with no worries or anxieties. Lady was finally home and safe and he had someone to look forward to seeing every morning and everyday.

That is what he expected. He felt a small weight on top of his chest and a little paw poking at his nose. He reached out for her but before he could even touch her, she bolted across the room bouncing off the wall and the closet door and back onto the bed playing with a sock she found. She spent the rest of the night walking across Jean. Biting at his wrist, kneading at his chest and finally deciding to rest up against his head.

The next few days were the same. Becoming more accustomed to the apartment and owner. They both developed the routine when she got up he got up, if he didn't get up on time she'd bite his foot. He couldn't prepare his own food until she got hers and he was required to scratch behind her ear during the first two bites. Bathroom room trips were no longer solo. She'd sit and watch him do him business whether he liked it or not. Her favorite spot was on the toilet tank, but sometimes she resides in his pants looking up at him with the love she could give.

After batting at his hand when tying his tie and fighting with the laces on his loafers, Jean would pick her up, bushing his hand against her still bare but now slightly fuzzy skin and plant small kisses on her face before dropping her and going out the door.

“Au revoir mon amour!! I'll see you later, okay!?”

Notes:

So grammarly decided to implement an AI feature which fucked up most of this chapter, so I'm freeballing it until I find a new grammar program. So if there are mistakes I will be trying to fix it eventually

Chapter 5: New arrival pt2

Summary:

I felt like well last chapter was too long so I just broke it up into two parts

5am to 12pm was a mixed bag. On one hand she didn't have Jean with her to play with or pester but on the other hand she could roam around and do whatever she wanted without being reprimanded and put in “air jail”. Knocking over the same nail polish bottles and playing with shoe laces can only do so much for entertainment. Mostly she just lies and waits for him to return, spending the rest of the day sleeping in his laundry hamper or looking at birds through the window waiting for him to return.

That's how it usually is most of the day until today. She quickly jumped up hearing the door unlocked preparing herself to meet Jean at the door. She quickly hid when she couldn't recognize one of the voices at the door. She recognized one figure, the mean doorman Devin who let his feelings be known that he didn't particularly care for cats.

The other man she'd never seen before. He looked a lot kinder and rounder. His plumb features matched the softness in his eyes and smile. His hair was white and fluffy mirroring the tassels on her blanket she came home with.

“So you know Jean right?”

“Yes we used to live in the same house”

“So you guys were like roommates or……dating??”

“No!…. well…. It's kind of hard to explain the relationship dynamic between all of us in that house…. ….It was sort of a Non-Spoken non monogamy kind of thing.”

“oh that's cool. Didn't know Loo used to be in a commune. Anyway, this is his place. You can just drop all the stuff off and I'll take the key when you're finished”

 

Devin left the man alone along some boxes. He immediately got to work, opening up the largest brown box and pulling out directions. He laid out some poles, flat pieces and a box all colored in bright blue with white accents. Once he started putting the pieces together Lady slowly crept out of her hiding spot wanting to get a better look at him. Mateo gently reached out to her, letting the cat sniff his hand. “Oh you must be Lady Chaton! Hello” his warmness radiated the room, his kindness and gentle nature earned her trust. She bumped her head against his hand, rubbing her body against his leg. He picked her up letting her climb onto his shoulder
“Oh you're so sweet. You can call Mateo”

Lady stayed on his shoulders watching him build her cat tree as she nuzzled against him, boring her head into his shoulder. When he finished the cat tree was taller than him the blue and white complimented the yellow sun pillow and cloud shaped puff balls dangling. He placed it right next to the balcony door, she hopped off with his shoulders and landed on the highest platform playing with the sun pillow.

“Do you like the cat tree? I was going to order the good night Moon cat tree but Jean Loo was always such a morning person. Hehe I could always hear him rapping and getting coffee at kopi's. He always had so much energy so I think he'd like this Sunny side up cat tree instead”

The second box was a lot flatter and wider. He pulled out several wooden panels, legs, some screws and an alen wrench. Despite all the pieces he put it together with ease It clearly wasn't his first time putting something like this together. A small light teal end table with several shelves with a large compartment with a hole on the side with accent golden handles. He pushed it right next to the front door and put her cat box into the compartment.

He added cat shelves one on the window in the bedroom with suction cups and hooked vertical shelves on the bathroom door. To finish he added some toys and other necessities in some of the drawers and plopped down on the couch. Lady let out a small chirp and jumped onto his lap. Mateo brushed his fingers through his soft orange coat.

“Your fur is coming in great amar and your surgery heal perfectly”

He sat back and pulled out his phone

“Hey! Yeah I have everything set up for her. She's doing just fine. Sorry again for not messaging back right away you said you couldn't afford it and I just jumped into action. No! You don't need to pay for the plane tickets. It's okay I insist! Really it's no problem considering you agreed to do my new animal shelter’s bookkeeping and all.”

The conversation shifted to property taxes and tax exempts. Lady trotted over to him lifting herself up onto his leg wanting his attention. He walked around the apartment holding Lady in his arms. Jean's place was nice. It was a little worse for where but the love and care was visible. The noticeable streaks from a vacuum on the carpet, the pine sent coming off of every surface. The bathroom shined like it was a display in one of those kitchen and bath warehouses. The design choice was surprising; he never took Jean as being a Minimalist type of guy but that could just be due to the lack of time and resources to actually decorate.

He set Lady onto her cat tree and headed to his van. Usually he'd give these items away to people who adopt for his shelter but Jean Loo was a special case. He pulled out a soft lush cream colored blanket and wall scratcher with abstract decorative design with shapes and colors of blues of various shades culminating into a paw print shape. He went back to the apartment and placed them neatly on the coffee table.

“Right…..so am I able to send you the 990 digitally or am I able to fax a physical copy of- one sec. Bye Lady! it was so nice to see you”. He put her in the pet bed, gave her a good scratch behind her ear and walked out the door leaving her with a plethora of things to do. No more dirty socks now it was little toy felt rats with bells, string toys and so many surfaces to climb and jump onto. She spent hours running and jumping, rolling and chasing around her toys until she wiped herself out. She was so busy and she didn't even realize Jean was already home in his same old spot on the couch but instead of watching TV he was on his laptop face-timing on Thiscord talking one of his old ‘roommates’

“So comparing the cash flow statement from last year…..before the rebrand and package change to this year after changing to a new color and font there is a positive increase…. Now that being said I would refrain on a formula change for some products right now. I feel like we should wait to see if that number can go up giving you some more disposable income but investing in a new mixer would be a good decision-”

Lady hopped up onto Jean’s computer and sniffed at the camera. Clicking his teeth he took her and gently put her back on the floor only for her to jump right back up again with even more curiosity. Jean huffed and took her once more and instead of placing her down back on the floor he set her on his lap so he could finish his convo.

*Gasp* “is that Lady Chaton Pissoir! Hiiiii Kitty! Awww I finally get to see her, oh she is so cute!” Barry waved to her trying to get her attention. Lady rubbing her head against the laptop delighting Barry even more. The moment didn't last long; both Jean and Lady were startled by a loud squawking noise coming from the microphone.

“Oh I'm sorry, that's just mango.”

“Who is mang?”

Barry got and came back with a small bird with orange, yellow and green feathers perched on his fingers.

“This is mangooooo say hi girly!”

“Girly! Girly! Girly”

Lady stared at the screen, her eyes locked on to the bird. She jumped off Jean's lap launching herself at the screen chirping and clicking.

“Oh she's trying to eat Mango! Hahah How cute you want to eat my bird aww”

Barry put the bird on his desk letting her hang out for a while he continued his conversation about his finances with Jean. He threw a little toy across the room successfully distracting Lady enough to get back to his work. She ran across the room bouncing and jumping off the walls as usual not caring if she's embarrassing Jean with all the noise. By the time she was tuckered out it was night and Jean was in bed scrolling through his phone. She climbed up and cuddled up and needed him drifting off to sleep

Chapter 6: TMI?? never heard of her? (Nsfw)

Summary:

It's NSFW. I don't know how to put it into words. It's not explicit but it also kind of is. Their is a sex and masturbation
Explicit in a way where you kind of leave it up to the reader's imaginations. I wouldn't call it smut even though this chapter is mainly focused on sex and some of it is steamy it's mostly about you know experiencing first times. The trials and errors that can come with having sex or having a sex life I don't know. Just read it. Inform your own opinion (I don't even know why I'm putting a warning when this game has a personification of a sex toy)

Standing on stage being screamed at with adoring fans All yelling and crying doing their best to get his attention until he sees one. One fan in particular that sparks his interest looking dead at them. Smiling, winking, flirting, letting them know that they've been noticed by the infamous Lil crapper. After his show and several encores he takes that fan backstage and gives them the night they'd never forget. That's how he always imagined leaving his virginity.

It was never supposed to be in a cramped, overheated dorm room with his back sticking to the plastic cover of a cheap foam mattress. Being loomed over by an old roommate he didn't particularly like whose only experience with sex was through porn videos and henti. What should have been an experience he'd remember fondly was spent staring at the ceiling wincing whenever he thrusted a little too hard or his fingernails scraping against his more sensitive plumbing.

He had to fake an orgasm just for him to stop and decide to let him finish on his stomach instead. It was humiliating, to say the least. Opting out of aftercare not like the roommate knew what that was anyway, he went straight to the showers. Maybe try to finish what he started.

The bathrooms were some of the very few luxuries his dorm had; the floors were always clean and stalls didn't have that awkward gap between the hinges and floor. His personal favorite were the showers with its frosted glass doors and handheld shower head with 5 different settings. The water was warm, the perfect temperature to lax his muscles and relieve any excess tension. He let the water wash over him, getting rid of the built up sweat and the remnants of his roommate off his body.

He took the shower head changing the dial from spa spray to power massage and went straight to work. He ran it over his chest and abdomen before reaching areas that needed the most attention. A tremor traveled down his body and quickly became relaxed, welcoming a warm pleasurable sensation. He leaned back against the wall letting his head rest against the cold tail letting out the occasional gasp and moan.

The dorms were empty, almost everyone gone for the winter break leaving him, 3 or 4 students and a faculty member left on the entire college campus. He had no worries about anyone hearing or walking in on him. He had all the time in the world so he could stay here and enjoy himself all long as he wanted.

He wishes he could say the same about the laughable sex he just had If you can call whatever that was sex to begin with. The foreplay was laughable, biting at his neck leaving red skin irritation instead of a hickey. He didn't even know proper communication, saying harder didn't mean going faster and saying faster didn't mean thrust for dear life.

“God this sucks”

Jean lifted his foot resting it against the wall shelf hooking his arm underneath. The position was awkward but it gave him a much better angle.

He stared forward mindlessly counting droplets sliding down the tile walls. He let his mind start to wander trying to find a fantasy to get him off a little bit faster. This really was a disappointing experience; this wasn't his first sexual encounter. He had plenty with Jonny, Ben-wha, Rebel, etc but this was supposed to be different; this was supposed to be special. He got over his broken dream of sleeping in the back of a limousine and being surrounded by adorning groupies…..it doesn't even sound all that appealing like it used to.

He wasn't asking for rose petals or a luxury flat. Maybe something nice like a party or a club, maybe with a complete stranger. They start dancing and making out the sneak out the back door. The kissing becomes more rough and messy with teeth and biting of lips and he is pinned against the dumpster…ugh…and they drop…to.. their knees next to trash bags……and…garbage…..his pants are pulled down and……no.

His face crumpled. Is that really how he wanted to lose his virginity behind a dumpster in a back alley?…tho that one night behind the breaker box with Cam wasn't so bad… He was kind of hot…..in a greasy kinda way….. that rugged smile…raspy laugh…..he was funny…he came up with that stupid rhyme….he can't remember it was……something something something/baby don't spoil it/something something something I'm having sex with a toilet…. god it was terrible…but it worked…….he was great kisser… tongue piercing…oh that tongue the things it could do…

He changed the dial once more to jet stream. He let out a guttural moan as a strong wave of pleasure rippled through him

... He didn't think he'd be into the licking part……when he started gnawing at his ear lobe..…fuck! what he did with his fingers and thumb…

He rocked his hips forward into the shower head finding a steady rhythm. His light gasp turned into heavy panting with every movement.
“juste là. oui oui juste comme ça oui”
His back arched, lifting himself slightly off the shower wall. A familiar tightness started to build.

...they might have gone all the way if…..if….if wasn't for Beverly’s drunk ass. If she didn't show up and ruin it by throwing up next to them. “Ugh” his body shuttered….. it still mortifies him to this day….he can still remember the stain it left on his shoes ... .and Cam. He wanted to continue after that.

*Huff* “ Damm…ruined it..”. losing all his built up momentum the shower head dropped from his hands, thrashing on the shower floor. He leaned back sliding down sitting against the wall.

Maybe that horrible sex is part of the slew of horrible experiences he’s going to have. Maybe that's just his fate as a toilet and person, maybe he's just better off alone instead of being in a relationship he knows will never last or to be used for weird rumors or a source of blackmail and god forbid a fetish.

He stared at his reflection in the water…God he's such a loser. Was it really that hard for someone to admit that they liked him or wanted him in a way that wasn't platonic? Is every relationship just going to be one night stands and short flings. Is even worth the effort.

Jean stood up, washed himself off and went back to his dorm room. His classmate was still in his bed scrolling through this phone presumably looking at porn.

“Hey. You really for anozher round hon hon?”

Jean felt his soul crumble. He really let this guy have his way with him. His presence already pissed him off but the mocking of his accent was his breaking point.

“Get the fuck out of my dorm!”

He slammed the door behind him and scanned the room trying to remember what he was doing before that asshole came in. He noticed his bed was still bare with his dirty sheets, crumbled and stuffed in a pillow case. That's what he was doing today. He was changing his sheets. He was supposed to go to the laundromat today.
“j'ai gâché ma journée…….. fuck it. I'll do it tomorrow”
He collapsed onto his bed and went to sleep putting this horrible experience behind him.

 

The next day wasn't any better either, waking up with a UTI. It didn't matter, he needed to do his laundry. He stuffed in some of his old clothes with his sheets and headed out the door trenching through the snow to the Laundromat.

“Oh Putain”

He loaded his things into the wash and leaned against one of the inactive dryers and texted the bathroom group chat specifically to Freya. Out of all the numbers he collected during realization he's grateful he kept hers. Even more grateful that she's his primary care doctor

[Freya: What are your symptoms?

Jean loo: it burns when I pee. My side aches and I've already gone to the bathroom 5 times there's also a smell. : /

Rebel: sounds like a yeasty

Amir: it's probably those hideous nylon briefs you always wear you're messing up your pH balance

Jean loo: 🖕🏻

Tyrell: cotton is the way to go ☺️ Nice, soft and breathable

Freya: any itching or thick discharge?

Jean loo: no

Freya: is your urine cloudy or red

Jean: it's cloudy and it's more like a dark orange

Freya: that sounds like a UTI. But to make sure I would suggest going to the store and getting a test kit.

Bathsheba: cranberry juice I had a UTI last year saved my life

One of the upsides of being a toilet and being a part of the bathroom crew TMI isn't a thing. No shame in talking about the more intimate parts of being a human. They were more prepared with the human experience than most of the other objects. They've seen and experienced what the human body can do……him more than anyone else in the bathroom but the point still stands. Nudity, talks about food poisoning, the runs, periods. They weren't as awkward or embarrassing as it would be with anyone else in the house. It was kind of comforting.

Fryer sent him several links of testing strips and medications. He put another quarter in the washing machine on his to extend the cycle.

Entering the convenience store, he went straight to the pharmaceuticals and picked up his medication and other necessities. He ignored the side eye from the cashier and paid for his test strips, medication, cranberry juice, and plan B.

He beelined it straight to the bathroom and plopped himself onto the toilet…… It always felt weird sitting on a toilet but he had no time to spiral into one of his ruminations.

Jean loo: when is the deadline when when taking plan b?

[Several people typing……. ]

Freya: within 72 hours so 3 day.

Jean loo: ok

Freya: also it's best to urinate after sex to prevent UTIs

Jean loo: ok

Freya: cotton underwear is advised for breathability, hygiene and comfort and will lower your chances for these type of infections

Jean loo: ok

Freya: Drinking water often is also a good way 8 cups of water a day is the standard More water, less energy drinks

Jean loo: ok

Freya: could also be because of hormone changes. I know you don't want to hear this, but your health matters. We can schedule appointment with your endo-

He placed his phone on top of the toilet paper dispenser. He ripped open the test kit and read over the directions.

‘Look down, look down Don't look 'em in the eye Look down, look down You're here until you die’

He ignored his notifications and answered the call.

“ What is Rebei?”

He didn't have to look at the name. He knew exactly who it was, his ex, Rebel. He can already hear them trying to conceal their snickering through the phone

“ What are you doing?”

“Peeing on a stick..shhhh ahh.. shit… What are you doing?”

“ Nothing……so plan b huh?”

“ I don't want to talk about it”

“So you finally got your cherry popped. How was it? Was it hot”

“no it was more embarrassing than anything”

“that sucks”

“ yeah it fucking sucked it felt like he was punching me in the crotch…fucking manhandled my left boob the whole time”

Rebel cackled

“Did you fake it”

“yeah…I screamed did the fucking O face they do in porn…. He couldn't tell”

“It was that bad?!”

“Yes…… what does purple mean”

“you have a UTI”

They stayed on the phone with Jean now on face time as he went on his way back to the laundromat to finish up his laundry. They shared a laugh shit talking to his roommate.

“ So you had bad sex and you didn't cum. I guess that means you're still virgin”

“Hmm?”

“You're still a virgin”

He took his meds and plan b and dowed it with a swig of cranberry juice and loaded his things in the dryer.

“I'm not tho. It was sex. Terrible sex but sex. It sucks but no takes back”

“ Nope, you didn't finish so he didn't take virginity.”

“Rebie”

“ shut the duck up Virgin! Virginity is a social construct with many definitions; some say anal sex doesn't count, some say vaginal sex only counts, oral, fingers whatever! You know what should count”

“What?”

“Cuming!... If he didn't finish the job meaning he didn't finish taking your virginity thus meaning…”

“I'm still a virgin”

“Exactly. Virgin”

As much as he wanted to argue with them, he couldn't find a good reason to. It did make him feel a little bit better. They always found a way to make him feel better. that one encounter didn't count, he's still a virgin he has a second chance to lose it how he wants to lose it. Who cares about virginity anyway? It's a social construct. Maybe he's putting too much pressure on himself for something that didn't matter all that much at the end of the day.

“I guess you're right. I'm still a virgin”

“Didn't you use the gift ben-wah sent?”

“you know… The gift they sent for everyone on Christmas. You didn't even use it? They said they sent it to like your mailbox on campus”

After unloading and folding all of his things, he went back to campus with rebels still on the phone. He shuffled through his keys finding the one to his school p.o box. He pulled out some letters and several packages. He didn't really think about the other objects celebrating. The only one who really celebrated was Holly. He made several mental notes of the names so he can send something back next year.

“Ok let's see what this freak got me”

Jean's face turned a bright red. He pulled out a magic wand personal massager attached with a note and written by Ben-wha.

‘to my favorite leaking toilet.
May your next escapade have you seeing stars Happy holidays Jean loo from me to yoo ’

“ 8 speeds 6 patterns water proof and everything….wow they put some thought into this”

“Right! you know Ben-wha”

“Oh I know them. We both know them. Know them very well”

He put his present back in the box and placed it in his nightstand. The conversation switched over to talking about their day work, school and shit talking. He put on warm sheets on his bed and fresh warm pajamas and lied back against the bed listening to Rebel rant about some prick on the bus. Hours past conversations changed, they soon found themselves sitting in comfortable silence. Rebel cooking dinner and Jean booking an appointment with Freya.

Rebel was the first to let out a yawn signaling their departure.

“I'm going to head out…night”

“good night…. Rebie”

“Hey, when you actually do lose your virginity call me I want all the details…. Unless it's me”

“ Go to sleep Rebel”

He hung up the phone, took another pill to finish the rest of his cranberry juice and watched TV for a while. There was nothing really on and he had nothing else to do. He opened up his nightstand, pulled out his gift and went straight back to the showers. He flickered through every setting and speed until they found the perfect one. Ben-wha was right. He did see stars.

 

Phil was one of the controllers for Valdivian taxes and accounting firms. He was strict, no nonsense and by the books. Many call them boring, up tight and too strict but he did what he needed to do and he always got the job done. He ran that office like the military. Nothing could get past him and nothing will get over him. Everyone stuck to the rules. That is until he met the new transfer. Blue that was the first thing you noticed. Blue hair. Bright blue hair with nails to match, golden frames and piercings. So many piercings. ears, nose, lips, eyebrows. It was uncouth, rebellious and downright unprofessional. Why did he get this job? How did he get this job and how the hell did he get promoted to senior accountant.

He is nothing like any of the other employees here. Most of them held their heads down and did their work and did what they were told but he would argue. He would fight and he would talk back. Who does he think he is? The worst part is he did his job and he did it well.

His Diploma hangs in his office next to several rap records with vulgar titles. He received praises from his clients, many of them owning active growing businesses. Going through his IMA files, he found his score for his first CMA exam. Passing it with flying colors on his way to take a second test. He was perfect. He had no complaints. He had no misdemeanors, no write-ups. No dirt on him at all. Jean Loo Pissoir was clean and he wanted him.

The office was dark and empty. The only thing illuminating was the light in the hallway as a janitor cleaned up. Everyone has gone home for the day. They could get in trouble and they could both be fired, especially since there was a camera looming over them.

“Don't worry, the security guard is a huge pervert”

Jean wasn't sure that was supposed to make him feel better but he didn't care. He was in heaven. Lips locked in heated frenzy, practically pinned against the desk. One hand entangled in his freshly dyed hair and the other grouping and squeezing at his body traveling further south into his pants. Moving in slow up and down motion gently stroking him through his cotton briefs.

A film of sweat covered his body. His shirt unbuttoned and belt unfastened. Phil's face was buried in the crook of his neck licking and sucking at his skin. By Jean's request, his ear nibbled and pulled at his lobe.
“You like that?”
He whispered, tugging at his piercing with his teeth. Every sound Jean let out was a reward, this went on to what felt like hours biting, groping and all forms of heavy petting before getting impatient. Phil made the first move. He turned Jean around, lifting his leg on the desk ignoring all the paperwork and documents scattered across the floor.

“You ready?”

“Oui. Yes yes I'm so-”

“Sh!”

The door was unlocked; they both froze, neither of them daring to make a sound. They could hear the janitor slowly make their way across the room humming a tune they couldn't make out. The only thing hiding them was a small cubicle and an office chair. Jean could feel the heartbeat race as if it was attempting to straight out of his chest. The thought of this maintenance worker catching them with their pants around their ankles, sprawled across the desk practically naked was humiliating but also very exciting. After placing all his maintenance materials back into the utility closet the janitor was gone.

They still stayed in place, bodies tense and unmoving, only to relax when they could hear the start of a car coming from outside and the headlights shining through the windows as an indicator that the janitor had gone home. Jean was the first to laugh and Phil followed with him. They pulled each other into another heated kiss.

The room was quiet once more. The only sounds that could be heard were the expletives moans spilling from their mouths, the creaking of the desk and the wet sounds of friction. Jean engulfed in ecstasy rolling his hips into Phil's thrusts at a steady pace.

“Faster, harder, oui oui oui!”

“Like this?”

“Yes! can you move your hand to- Yes like that yes”

“Like this?”

“Yes!....No.. The other way….Counterclockwise”

“This?”

“yes yes yeah like that oh! oui!”

His legs started to shake, his breath started to shorten and that familiar tightness starting the form he was close and judging from Phil's uneven and erratic thrusts he was closed as well. Phil placed his hand firmly against Jean's back, pushing him down and gripping his hip. Low moans fell out of Jean with every trust alone with drool and tears. This is far from the disaster he had in college

‘Look down, look down Don't look 'em in the eye Look down, look down You're here until you -CRACK

Phil slowed his pace to an abrupt stop attempting to reach down to pick up Jean's broken phone.

“Non non non please please don't stop! Please!”

“But your phone-”

“I don't care! Don't stop, I'm close!...oui oui Yes yes just like that. I’M-”

‘PLAYER’ (MISSED CALL)

Jean's body tensed waves of pleasure washed over him. He let out one last jagged moan before going limp on his stomach. He felt his Superior twitch spilling inside him before pulling out. They stayed there in silence trying to catch their breath. Phil leaned in to him kissing his ear one last time and handing him his tie. “We will never talk about this to anyone. Got it?” He said in a soft yet firm voice. Jean hiked his pants up lazily buttoning his top before straggling to the bathroom “yeah yeah I won't”

“Allo” he greeted the toilet before plopping himself down to use it common courtesy and all. After peeing and cleaning himself off he pulled down his phone to inspect the damage. A large crack across his screen was barely responsive. It was broken beyond repair. He could repair it though but he has enough money to buy a new one.
“Good thing I got a promotion”

He did feel kind of bad though. This was his first phone. He's had it for 6 years ever since he became a human. Instead of throwing it away, maybe mail it to Phoenicia. She's been begging everyone to not throw them away and just give them to her to repair, repurpose and give them to new owners.

“C'est comme ça”

Washed his hands, fixed himself, put on his jacket and headed outside meeting Phil waiting out for him. He stared at him with confusion and slight offense as he was handed money.

“What is this for?”

“It's for uh…. it's….for contraceptive we weren't really all that safe”

A small smile spread across his face. He was so courteous. He leaned up and kissed him on the cheek

“It is fine I have an implant”

“Oh. ok”

Jean made it home still giddy as ever. He dropped his things on the floor, scooped Lady attacking her with kisses and headed off to bed. The next day he picked out a new phone and decided to treat himself and pick up the latest model. After spending countless hours transferring passwords, contacts, accounts and other information to his new phone, he called Rebel, still riding the high from last night. And just like he promised he gave them all the details