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differenteagletragedy · 6 months

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Two times you almost slept with Baxter and one time you did (hey-o)

Takes place during Step 3. As a Very Normal Person who thinks about this game in a normal way, I have been torn about how intimate MC and Baxter get if you do the romance route with him. Because our guy is such a flirt, but then no follow through? Suspicious.

So here's a possible scenario for all of that. Definitely not smut, but it's a little spicy!

The first time it almost happened was in Baxter's condo on a random Wednesday afternoon. You didn't have to work, Cove did and Baxter was, as he always liked to remind you, flexible, so you were sitting together on his couch, watching a movie.

The thing was that you'd never watched a movie with Baxter before, so you didn't know how bad he was at it. He was more concerned with making a cute little commentary than following the plot, and while it was cute -- it was Baxter, after all -- at a certain point you didn't know what was going on.

So you chose to pass the time in a different way.

Right after he cracked another lame joke and turned to give you a smirk, you met his lips with a kiss instead. It took him a moment to react as it usually did when you kissed him, but he got the hang of it before too long.

It started out a little slow and awkward -- you hadn't had had too many long kisses at this point, mostly more chaste pecks here and there -- but soon it was a full blown makeout session. You slipped your fingers through his hair and you felt a little sigh against your mouth. He was having fun.

Things got more intense, and you suddenly found his hand on the back of your thigh. Before you could say anything, he gripped it firmly and pulled you up so you were straddling his lap.

"This is new," you said, looking down at him nervously.

"It is," he agreed, the normal bravado in his voice replaced by a sort of excited uncertainty. "Is this all right?"

In response, you kissed him again and settled into the position. This way, you could feel just how much fun he was having. It was exciting.

Feeling a wave of boldness, you leaned back and took your shirt off. He gazed at your body openly, and with a tenderness you weren't expecting, his raised his hands off your hips to stroke your back.

You let out a low moan, and there it was -- that smirk that had been missing. Still with the same gentleness as before, he started placing soft kisses along your collarbone, moving lower down your chest.

While his mouth and hands were occupied elsewhere, you made quick work of the buttons of his shirt, and soon you slipped it off his shoulders and threw it behind you, then went in for another kiss, pressing your skin together.

After a nice little while of this, he leaned back again and found your eyes.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yes," you told him plainly, not leaving anything up for interpretation.

You kissed for a while longer, then you felt his hand on your stomach. He held it there for just a moment, then started moving it lower. You felt his fingers move between the waistband of your shorts and your skin, and they worked their way lower and lower ...

All at once, you felt his body tense under yours, and he snatched his hand back like he'd been burnt. He gripped your shoulders and guided you off of him so you were sitting by his side again.

"Perhaps we should slow it down a bit, don't you agree?" he asked, an unmistakable shakiness to his voice.

"Sure, if that's what you want."

You both silently found the clothing you'd lost then started watching the movie again. He didn't have any cute comments this time around.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The second time was in your room. Your moms and Liz were out for the day, so you had the place to yourself. You'd been texting Baxter, spending a lazy day in your room, before finally just asking him to come over and hang out.

He'd only been in your room once or twice before, and he treated it like a museum exhibit. He was studying you.

"What's this?" he asked, pointing to a shelf.

He'd spotted your seashell collection, and you told him as much.

"I used to know all the scientific names and everything," you said, moving to stand beside him so you could look at your little display.

"Used to?" he questioned, cocking an eyebrow.

"Used to and still can," you corrected yourself, laughing.

"Tell me about them?"

You laughed more, then snuck a glance at him. He was smiling too, but it was a sincere request. So you did.

You told him not only the scientific facts you knew about your shells, but the memories you had of when you'd found them. You showed him the big orange one you'd found with Liz when you were little, and the pretty little pink one you and Cove had come across after he'd moved to town.

Maybe it was your impressive show of knowledge, or maybe the fondness in your voice as you spoke about all these people and places and things that were important to you, or maybe it was just that you cared enough to share any of it with him, but when you were done he wrapped his arms around you tightly and buried his face in the crook between your neck and shoulder.

You held him back, and then his lips found yours.

Usually you were the one who took the initiative for any sort of physical affection, but this time he led you to your bed, and you felt almost a sort of neediness in how he moved against you. After the back of your knees bumped against your mattress, he laid you down and climbed on top of you, situating his body between your legs and lowering himself to kiss you again.

This time, he let himself explore your body with his hands, and you gladly let him. Your shirts ended up tossed aside again, but this time he took your shorts off, too. Whether it was on your mouth, your neck, your chest or, for a few tantalizing moments, even lower, his never let his lips leave you for long.

It felt like he was desperate to be as close to you as he possibly could. Which was fine -- you were desperate too.

He looped his thumbs under the sides of your underwear, bunching them up in his hands and landing a kiss on your hip. You shuddered and moaned, saying his name, and that seemed to break whatever spell he'd let himself fall under.

Baxter sat up on his knees and looked off to the side, a mix of emotions clear on his face. You couldn't pick them all out, but you could tell he was cutting your encounter short again.

"What's wrong?" you asked.

"Nothing," he said quickly. "It just seems like maybe this isn't the best venue for ... this," he gestured to your partially unclothed bodies.

"Nobody's going to be home for a while," you assured him. You grabbed his hands and tried to guide him back down to you, but he kissed yours and let them go. He climbed gracefully over your leg and sat beside you on your bed.

"Perhaps we --" he began, but you cut him off.

"Perhaps you can tell me why you're doing this again."

He finally met your eyes. He looked confused.

"This time and before, at your place," you told him. "We started fooling around and you stopped it both times. I thought you just weren't ready the first time, but this time you started it and then ... I don't get it. Is it something I'm doing?"

"No, not at all," he said, moving closer to you. You were upset, and he didn't like that it was because of something he'd done. "You're doing everything perfectly. Don't worry about that, please."

"Then what?"

He considered things for a moment, then looked at you again. Before he began speaking, he laid down beside you and placed a careful arm around you.

"It's just that I so deeply don't want you to regret this," Baxter said softly, absentmindedly making shapes with his fingers on your side. "Any of this. We haven't known each other for very long, and it won't be very much longer before I'm gone. I don't want you to move too quickly and then look back on our summer together and wish you'd done things differently. I'm afraid that would break my heart."

He didn't look at you through any of this, but when he was done he glanced up and gave you a tight smile.

"I wouldn't," you said firmly. "i won't. I promise."

You could tell that he wasn't convinced, but at least he let himself stay there with you like that for a while. He kept stroking idly along your stomach, moving his head to rest on your shoulder. Eventually you both fell asleep.

It wasn't the sort of intimacy you'd thought you'd get, but it certainly wasn't unwelcome.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The third time ... well, as they say, the third time's the charm.

It was nearly the end of summer, about a week after Miranda's birthday party and your impromptu Summer Soiree. You hadn't been able to stop thinking about how sweet Baxter's reaction to the whole thing was or how much he'd loved being able to have a proper dance, so you'd decided to set up another little party for him.

This time, the guest list was even smaller.

You'd asked Baxter if he could hang out that night, and he agreed -- he always put you above any and all other plans, and you knew it. So you gathered some supplies from your house and headed down to the beach.

As the sun set, you laid out a blanket on the sand, then pulled out your phone and set up a little speaker that went with it. You had a few candles you'd swiped from around the house that you lit, hoping the wind wouldn't blow them out at least until Baxter got the full effect. You'd also brought some snacks that you placed on the blanket as well, but you were pretty sure you knew what he would want to do when he got there.

And you were right.

You sent a text, asking Baxter to meet you at the beach, and he promptly let you know he was on his way. Then you pulled up a playlist you'd compiled -- some more traditional ballroom dancing tunes and some slow songs you just liked -- and began playing it. The sound quality wasn't great, but you didn't think it would matter. You smoothed out your clothes, a little fancier than what you'd normally wear here, and waited.

When you saw him approaching, you smiled at him. He paused, taking it all in, then gave you what may have been the most tender look you'd ever seen a person make.

"What's all this?" he asked when he got to you.

"Summer Soiree, Part Two, The Reckoning," you answered, gesturing to your little spread. His face was filled with wonder at the scene, and when you held your hand up in a wordless invitation to dance, he positively beamed.

You danced together as the moon appeared over the water. He held you close, your hand in his clasped firmly to his chest. You stayed like that for a while, swaying back and forth in a cozy little silence, before Baxter spoke.

"I'm not quite sure what I did to deserve such a marvelous dance partner this summer, but sincerely, thank you for this. It means a great deal, more than I can say," he said.

"You're worth it," you told him. You moved your hand off his shoulder to ruffle his hair, and he nearly purred.

"I won't forget a moment of this, any of this," he went on. "When I'm old and grey -- properly grey -- I'll look back on the summer I spent in Sunset Bird with the utmost fondness." He paused, looking at you deeply, and added, "I won't forget you. Not ever."

You rolled your eyes affectionately at the monochrome joke, then said, "Of course you won't forget me. How could you?"

You shared a smile, then you leaned in for a kiss.

By that point in the summer, you knew that you liked Baxter, so much, and that you wanted him. It didn't matter that this was essentially a fling and that he would be leaving soon -- he was here now, and after all you'd shared with each other over the past few months, you wanted him to know that someone cared for him, that he could be appreciated and doted on and even loved. You wanted to show him.

"Can we go back to your place?" you asked, willing him to understand what you meant and to trust that you knew what was best for yourself.

He searched your eyes for a moment, and you didn't look away. He swallowed, then nodded.

You packed up your things together and he carried your bag as you walked back to the neighborhood hand in hand. When you made it through the doorway of his condo, he put your things down carefully, then turned to you.

Personally, you were done with being careful.

You crashed into him, pulling him around you, and after just a short moment of hesitation, he met your intensity. He kissed you hard, your teeth almost clanking together, but you didn't mind -- you wanted him to finally let loose.

And he did.

Both of you were down to your underwear by the time he'd led you to his bedroom, and before you got in bed, he'd removed the final layers. You were naked together for the first time, but you couldn't stop kissing each other to get a proper look.

"You're absolutely sure?" he asked breathlessly, forcing his hands to stop roaming you body until he could get your answer.

"Absolutely," you answered.

This time, that was enough for him.

You spent the night together, wrapped up in each other. Baxter was sometimes sweet and gentle, sometimes a bit rougher, but for once, all his hesitation was gone. He wanted you just as badly as you'd wanted him, and he finally let himself have you.

The next morning, you woke up before him -- no surprise there. He had firmly attached himself to you in his sleep, and you felt a bit of dampness by your head that you thought may have been drool, but you didn't care. Not when he looked so cute.

When he finally opened his eyes and saw you beside him, he grinned and snuggled up closer.

"Morning," he said, nearly slurring.

"Good morning. Did you sleep well?"

"Mmm," he hummed happily. He didn't want to greet the day just yet, and that was fine by you.

For the next little while, Baxter dozed next to you, sometimes waking up enough to have a bit of conversation before it fell off again. In the times when you heard a light snoring, you let your mind wander.

You knew he'd made it clear that this relationship was temporary -- that had been established time and time again. You didn't think last night had changed that, you had never lied when you told him that you understood, but as he slept naked beside you, you let yourself think that maybe whatever this was that you'd built this summer was strong enough to last.

Maybe not now, but that was ok. Maybe later, when you'd both solidly found your footing in the adult world. Maybe you could build a closer friendship while he was across the country in college, then you could come back together.

You resolved to talk to him about it when he woke up, but for now, you shut your eyes too and cuddled closer to him, content to laze away the morning in his arms.

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differenteagletragedy · 6 months

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Cove isn't the stepdad, he's the dad who stepped up, Part 3

A third part (lol) to a story in which Baxter gets you pregnant during his summer in Sunset Bird and then ghosts you. You eventually get together with Cove and fall in love and you're getting maaarried, but Baxter is the wedding planner and isn't that awkward?

Here, you get into the planning process and wouldn't you know it, there are some hiccups with this massively uncomfortable plan.

Part 1 here aaaaaand Part 2 here

When it came to you, Cove was accommodating to a fault -- to the point where you're pretty sure you could murder somebody and he'd say, "Well, I'm sure you had your reasons."

That's why it wasn't a surprise to you that when you had a heart-to-heart on what to do about Baxter, he was comfortable leaving everything entirely up to you.

"I trust you," he said simply. "I'm with you with whatever you want to do."

And then, after you'd called the main office where Baxter worked and they'd told you that it was wedding season, they didn't have anyone else available and you wouldn't get your deposit back if you broke your contract now, he was just as understanding.

"Look," he told you quietly, keeping an eye on Dylan playing with his soccer ball as he stroked your back. "We can make it work. We always do. He can be our wedding planner ... or if you want, he can be more."

"What do you mean?"

Cove paused, scrunching up his mouth a bit, then said, "Like if you want him to meet Dylan. If you want him to know him. That's ok if you want that."

You groaned, but when your son looked up at you curiously, you put on a smile for him.

"I'll just see if he'll still be our planner, I guess?" you said. "Not really loving the idea of losing the deposit."

He laughed and squeezed your shoulder.

"It'll be fine, I'm sure of it."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A couple of days later, the two of you were back at Baxter's office, waiting for him to show up for your appointment. You'd texted him, all business, and he agreed to go forward with the planning without another word about Dylan.

You were starting to think that this may actually work out as you sat by Cove on the couch, giddily whispering about your wedding, but when Baxter came in the room, it was almost like all the air left when he closed the door behind him.

"Hello again," he said curtly, sitting in his desk chair without meeting your eyes. "Are we ready to get things underway?"

"Yeah," Cove answered, then glanced over to you. You nodded.

"Very well," Baxter said, then leaned over to his desk to grab a notepad and a pen. "I have a series of questions to ask you about your plans for the ceremony, we can take care of that today, when we'll go from there if that sounds agreeable."

He was definitely holding you at arm's length, which was fine. But every now and then, you could tell how much that pained him.

Like when he brought up the topic of surnames, and Cove explained that he wanted to take yours so he could share a last name with you and Dylan, that earned a barely perceptible bristle.

Or when your soon-to-be husband described proposing to you on the beach in your old neighborhood -- you caught his hand shaking slightly when he took a quick break from taking notes to smooth out his jacket.

"One of the services I offer for my clients is dance lessons leading up to the reception," Baxter explained at one point. "It's a bit of an edge I offer over competitors, if I'm being honest, but I do understand if you'd rather not --"

"We'll think about it," you told him, cutting him off before he could actually say how awkward things were, and he nodded.

"About the dance though," Cove began, looking at you pointedly.

"Hmm?" Baxter asked.

Knowing where Cove was going, you put your hand on his leg and spoke up for him.

"We want to have our son come in for the first dance, towards the end," you said. "And we want him to stand with us during the ceremony too."

Baxter did look at you then, really looked for the first time that day. Again you were taken aback by how much of Dylan you saw in his face, how your little boy's eyes were a perfect match for the ones staring at you now.

"Charming," he said shortly, looking back down at his notes. "I would advise then bringing him to a rehearsal so you all can get a feel of what that would look like."

"He'll do great," Cove said, almost defensively.

"I'm sure he will."

When Baxter got all the information he needed -- or when the room got too stifling to bear, you weren't really sure what came first -- he stood, bringing an end to the meeting. He offered his hand to Cove, who looked at it for a moment before accepting the handshake. He then held the same hand up to you.

He had a tiny little mole low on this wrist, you saw. You couldn't remember if you'd noticed it back then, but Dylan had one in the same spot.

You shook his hand, not expecting it to be as hot as it was.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

And that's how the next few planning sessions with Baxter went. They were never exactly comfortable, but they got a little less weird, and you always found a sitter for Dylan. Whenever you had to speak with Baxter over text messages, you both kept things strictly business. Beyond that first day, there was no mention of the little boy that bonded you together.

The wedding kept creeping closer and closer, and one day, about a week before the big day, Cove brought up a difficult subject while you were washing dishes together after dinner. Your son was off for a sleepover in Sunset Bird -- a preliminary sort of thing to get him ready for the few days you and Cove would be gone for your honeymoon -- and you had to admit, the whole thing felt a little orchestrated.

"So, I've been thinking," he began, then trailed off.

"Is that the whole story?" you teased.

He gave you a playful glare, then cut right to the chase.

"I think it would be a good idea to have dance lessons. With Baxter."

"Huh?" was all you could manage.

He rinsed the last dish and set it in the drainer, then wiped his hands on his pants and turned to lean against the counter and look at you.

"It'll probably be awkward, I know that," he said. "But ... it's our wedding. I can handle an awkward dance lesson so I don't look dumb when we dance together."

"You wouldn't look dumb," you said quickly -- you were fast to defend you darling soon-to-be husband against anyone, even himself.

"I really would."

You took a moment to gather your own thoughts, drying your hands on a dish towel. You wanted Cove to have the dance lessons if he wanted them, of course, but you couldn't figure out a good way to explain how it made you feel to think about either of you spending extra time with Baxter.

"It's not just that it would be awkward," you said finally. "It's just such a complicated kind of dynamic, you know? What if he wants to know about Dylan? What if he asks to meet him?"

Instead of answering, Cove surprised you again with "I think you should take a dance lesson too."

This time, a "huh" wouldn't even come out of your gaping mouth.

"You don't have to if you don't want to, obviously," he said, moving to take you in his arms. He pulled you close to his chest and rested his chin on top of your head. "I won't either if you don't want me to."

"Where's this coming from?" you asked.

"I just think ... we're about to be married. Forever. And I don't think it's a good idea to leave anything unfinished."

You pulled back to look at him, bewildered and a little bit mad, if you were being honest.

"Cove, things between me and Baxter have been finished for a long time," you said. "You know that, right?"

"Yeah, I know, I don't mean like that," he told you, cool and confident enough that you didn't have trouble believing him. "I just mean for Dylan. I know it's hard, but you need to talk to Baxter about him. What if when I try to adopt him he fights it? What if he tries to go to court or something?"

You hadn't thought about all of that.

"We should just get it out of the way, I think," he continued. "So we can move on without having to worry about it."

As much as the idea bothered you, he had a point.

Later that evening, Cove held your hand, and you texted Baxter that you'd be taking him up on those dance lessons after all.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Baxter had planned it so that both you and Cove could have individual lessons with him the same day -- he'd work with Cove in the afternoon for a few hours, then you'd come in in the evening.

When the day came, you dropped Cove off at Baxter's office building, then you and Dylan were off to run errands. Later, while you were taking your lesson (and maybe having a heart-to-heart with your ex-boyfriend days before you got married), they were planning on a visit with Derek.

"Mommy, is it almost time for the big cake?" Dylan asked as you pushed him in a cart through the grocery store, stocking up on a few snacks you needed for home.

"Almost, baby," you told him -- the concept of a wedding wasn't very interesting to the four-year-old, but the big cake? Yeah, that was worth a countdown.

"Is Daddy gonna sneak me a big piece?" he asked next, obviously not very concerned about the concept of sneaking, either.

"Probably, yeah."

Your son smirked proudly at that, and you felt a little tug on your heart.

Baxter disappearing at the end of your summer together was hard, having his child while he wouldn't even answer your calls was harder. But having this precious little boy that you loved more than life itself sporting that smug smirk that his biological father probably could have patented?

Well, that was a special kind of difficult.

When you drove back to Baxter's office building to switch off with Cove, you found felt anxiety begin to really gnaw at you. You tried to put it aside as he hopped in the passenger seat for a moment and turned around to greet Dylan, but Cove knew you better than anyone.

"It'll be all right," he told you softly. "We'll be back before you know it."

You looked at the clock. Time to go.

After telling Dylan goodbye, you got out of the car to switch places with Cove. He hugged you and gave you a kiss on the forehead and told you he loved you, almost like you were going off to war.

It wasn't that dramatic, but it did sort of feel like it.

You made your way to the room where Baxter had told you to go -- he'd given you directions and they weren't difficult to follow. You came to a set of doors, pushed them open and saw him standing by himself in a large room, looking over some papers.

"Hey," you greeted softly, your anxiety only growing.

"Hello," he replied. He gave you a small smile you could tell was genuine, if not a little nervous -- a good sign, at least.

Without further discussion, he pulled a remote out of his pocket and turned on a stereo system somewhere in the room. A slow song started playing, and he wordlessly offered you his hand.

All at once, it was like you were transported five years back in time. You were 18, didn't have a care in the world, and a weird but adorable boy had moved in across the street for the summer and stole your heart in the process.

It wasn't that you wanted to be with Baxter -- Cove was the love of your life, you'd never been as sure about anything as you were with that. And you wouldn't take back the little family you'd created together for anything.

You just wished that parts of it -- like this part right now, reconnecting with Baxter -- weren't so hard.

You took his hand, and he pulled you closer, placing his other hand on your back. You put your free hand on his shoulder, and away you went.

After a few moments of not-so-comfortable silence, you asked, "So how did Cove do?"

"Splendidly," he answered, looking up from your feet to look you in the eyes. "You're very lucky. Both you and your son."

And there it was.

"Why did you have to leave like that?" you asked, the question out of your mouth before you really had a chance to fully process what you'd said.

He took in a shaky breath and you felt his body tense, but he answered. It was more of the self-flagellating insecurities you remembered him being filled with back then -- he didn't want to be important in your life, he didn't think he was. He thought that he could have a nice fun summer with you and that it wouldn't matter to you if he left without a trace.

You'd hated it then, and you hated it now, but this time there was an extra layer to it.

"I honestly don't know what I would have done if I'd known ... about him," he said, moving you around the room as a bit of an afterthought. "I've been thinking about it, and I'm not sure. Part of me likes to believe I would have stepped up as Cove did, but Cove is a far better man than I am. So if it's any consolation at all, I do believe I would have failed you both either way."

"It's really not," was all you could think to say.

"Yes, I didn't suppose it would be. Still, I'm left wondering, as I'm sure you are, where do we go from here?"

You looked at him deeply. It was a good question.

"You're going to meet him, I guess," you said. "At the rehearsal at least, or at the ceremony."

"I've thought about that," Baxter admitted. "I won't do anything you're uncomfortable with, of course. I do find myself interacting with children when they're involved with the ceremony, but ... if you don't want me to speak with him, I will respect that."

Tears sprung to your eyes at the thought -- you knew that since Dylan was going to be in the ceremony, he'd at least come into contact with the wedding planner. But seeing everything come together like this, being faced with the reality of it all, was even harder than you'd anticipated.

"He doesn't know anything about you," you told him. "He doesn't know that Cove isn't ... he's his dad, that's not ... he doesn't know that there's anything to know, I guess is what I'm trying to say."

You'd meant to clear the air with Baxter -- to actually talk about things, really talk about them, and settle them once and for all. But instead, you found yourself dancing around an empty room with him, crying while he held your hand a little too tightly.

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