Steak Tips for Three
Probably the strangest but utterly entertaining story you will read. Promise. HVR approved.
It was 7pm when Fiona waddled out of her room. I was in the kitchen making dinner —steak tips from Trader Joe’s and rice. The kitchen smelled garlicky and smokey. Fiona inhaled deeply.
“Oh, that smells good,” she said, easing herself onto a stool at the kitchen island.
“I hope it tastes good,” I joked, stirring the pot of rice before covering it with a layer of tin foil and the lid. “Why do you sound depressed?” I added, glancing at her over my shoulder.
She rubbed her face with both her hands, exhaustion lining her features.
“I’ve been at this fucking computer all day; I’m so tired dude.”
“What, you’ve been writing this whole time?” Fiona had been locked in her room since I got home. She came out maybe once to get a bottle of water and then scurried back inside.
“Yes,” she said flatly, “And I’m sick of it. I’ve hit a roadblock and it’s killing me.”
“Anything I can help with?” I said, placing a cover on the food and turning towards her, leaning against the quartz island countertop.
She sighed heavily, “I don’t know, it’s supposed to be a spicy story, but I’m not feeling…” she paused, gesturing at the air like she was searching for the right word.
“Are we not feeling spicy?” I finished, and she responded with another sigh.
“Unfortunately not,” her face fell into her hands again.
“Then maybe you need a break,” I added, turning towards the fridge and grabbing myself a bottle of water. “Besides, Hawtorn is supposed to be here in a bit.”
“Ohh, nice. Why is he coming again?”
“We are going over the interview questions for the live broadcast we are doing next week.”
“Oh yeah! The book review for “How to Start a Cult.” Fiona stood up from the stool, restless. “Well, you two have fun with that. Maybe I can take a shower. That always seems to help. Maybe I will feel better after I eat your meat”.
“Hey, my meat is always good,” I said. We stared at each other for a brief second before bursting into laughter.
She walked over and gave me a hug.
“Thank you for being such an amazing cook and roommate. I might have to thank you later.” She winked as she and then gave my ass a little innocent squeeze. We both laughed again as she more confidently waddled back towards her bedroom and closed the door behind her. I turned to check on the steak in the oven. She smelled the Montreal seasoning.
The hot water felt good. I stood in the shower letting the water rain down onto my back. The water pressure was delightful in this old house. I was letting the conditioner sit in my hair a moment before rinsing it out.
The hum of the shower and bathroom fan was loud and comforting. It helped to clear my mind, but I was still not feeling any inspiration for my story.
I grabbed the soft black towel hanging next to my shower and dried off before stepping out. I dried my hair and wrapped it up tight with a t-shirt and wrapped the towel around me. I washed and rubbed lotion on my face and then unwrapped my hair from the t-shirt.
I reached for my leave-in. It was gone. I realized that Kiwi must have borrowed it again without asking and I hurriedly made my way out of the bathroom and back towards the living area to confront her. I stopped dead in my tracks. Hawtorn and Kiwi were both sitting on the couch. Her back was to me but Hawtorn saw me the moment I walked out. I froze. I must not have heard the knock while I was in the shower. The towel covered all of the important parts but was pretty short. I had to be careful or Hawtorn would be getting an unsolicited view of my Alabama bits.
I tried to tiptoe.
“Hi, Fiona,” he said. He didn’t look away.
FUCK ME.
I couldn’t move. This was so embarrassing. This is not how I wanted to end up in his next book.
“Uh..hehe…uh Hi, Hawtorn.” I choked out nervously. By that time Kiwi had turned around and had also witnessed me in my toweled glory. “Uh…Kiwi, um…I need the um…leave-in treatment. Can you…uh…bring it to the bathroom?” I gulped back the cry that wanted to escape my throat and backed slowly into the safety of the bathroom.
I turned back to Hawtorn after Fiona dipped back into the bathroom. He was trying his best to put on a stoic face, and failing badly. I choked out a chuckle.
“To be fair, she knew you were coming,” I laughed, putting my laptop to the side and standing. “Feel free to grab some more wine, I’m gonna grab her thingy,” I said quickly running into my bedroom to search for the conditioner.
“I’ll be here,” he called out mid chuckle.
I grabbed it from my bed, where I’d tossed it after showering earlier in the evening, and ran back out, knocking lightly on the bathroom door. Fiona cracked it open a bit and grabbed my wrist holding out the bottle, pulling me in.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” she whisper-yelled under the hum of the bathroom fan.
“What?” I responded through a laugh. “I said he was coming.”
“You said LATER,” she snatched the bottle from my hand and began applying it to her hair.
“Okay, well I doubt he cares, it’s okay,” I said, grabbing her brush from the sink and handing it to her. I watch her work the conditioner into her hair, her skin still glistening from the steam of the bathroom. “Besides, when you look like that, why would he care?” Her gaze met mine through the mirror and she tried, and failed, to hide her smile. I winked playfully, turning toward the door. “When you’re done, just come on out,” I said over my shoulder and duck out of the bathroom.
Back in the living room, Hawtorn was typing away on his phone, freshly poured wine glass in the other hand.
“Oh, finished so soon?” He joked.
“You know, we would’ve taken our time but I didn’t want to be rude.” I shot back, laughing. “I don’t think she was expecting you so soon, she’ll be okay.” I poured myself a glass of wine and took my spot on the couch with my laptop.
Later, Fiona emerged from the bathroom, the towel replaced with a heavy robe.
“Welcome, Fiona,” Hawtorn said without missing a beat.
“Please shut up,” she said, walking past the couch and into her room.
“Where are you going?” He called after her. After only a minute, she reemerged with an oversized worn jersey and shorts.
“To put clothes on,” she said pointedly to him. “This is my Adam Sandler look”.
“Aw man.”
“Okay, ya’ll can stop,” I chimed in, grabbing another glass of wine and filling it for Fiona. I hold it out to her, “drink this and sit.” She takes the glass and sinks into the couch between Hawtorn and me. The couch was big enough that there was still a decent amount of space between us.
Hawtorn made conversation with Fiona about her recent posts and when she would be planning to release her next piece, and when they can do another live collab. She poured another glass, mentioning her current writer’s block with her piece.
“What’s so bad about it?” He asked, finally putting his phone down and leaning back onto the couch. “You just fake it ‘till you make it.”
“Yeah, that’s not helpful,” she groaned with another loud sigh, sinking further into the thick couch cushions. “I mean, I have written about threesomes before, but I never feel like they are authentic. I have never had one before.”
Hawtorn took another sip of his wine. “I bet you could ask a few of your smutty friends a thing or two about it.” He put his arm wide around Fiona and tapped me on the back.
Without taking my eyes away from my laptop screen, I said, “I bet you’d like to pick a few brains too, wouldn’t you Hawtorn?” He chuckled.
Fiona sighed heavily. “Fuck! I am in a room full of writers, all useless.” She placed a couch pillow in her lap and dropped her head into it.
“Okay, well,” Hawtorn started, taking another sip of his wine before sitting his wine glass on the table in front of us. He continued as he sat up and grabbed his phone. “Maybe to really be able to write about how it feels to be in a threesome, you will have to actually be in one.” He looked back down and started typing something else on his phone, unaware of the look exchanged between Fiona and me. A mischievous smile graced her delicate features, and I know our minds just synced.
“You know, he’s right Fiona,” I chimed in, saving my current work on my laptop and closing my tabs. “Maybe you should have a threesome.” I leaned back, crossing my legs. She stood from her spot on the couch, walking around the back of the couch and stopping behind me.
“He is right,” she said, standing and walking around to me. Hawtown’s gaze met ours just before Fiona gently pulled my head back. I smirked. We held eye contact. We winked, looked at Hawtorn, winked, and looked back, She kissed me deeply, hands resting on my jaw.
At that moment, Kiwi hit the deck. Hard. I laughed. Whose mans?
“Kiwi, you’re a little early,” Fiona said. She laughed at me.
“Right? I’m not one to judge, but Kiwi, that’s weird,” I snorted. I looked up at Fiona. “So, inspiration much?”
We held eye contact. Suddenly, Kiwi made hissing sounds and grunts. “Don’t be an asshole, Kiwi,” Fiona groaned. Kiwi coughed and gargled.
“The fuck?” I jumped up. “Do you know first aid, Fiona?”
Fiona held her breath. “No.”
I got down on my knees next to Kiwi. She was on her back with her eyes closed. Her face was losing color. I put my ear to hear chest and my hand next to her mouth. I could hear some crackling and noises in her chest. The airflow was erratic. “Kiwi, do you hear me?!” She didn’t respond. “Fiona, call 911!” Fiona glanced back and began to sweat. Tears came down her face. “Fuck! Fine. I’ll do it all!”
I felt around her chest to feel for changes in her breathing patterns. I produced a rubber glove from my pocket (don’t ask) and put it into her mouth. I did the sweeping motion and felt nothing. I jumped up and scanned the kitchen. At the dinner she prepped. I opened the drawers, feeling for something, ANYTHING.
“Fiona, does Kiwi have a condition?”
“Yeah, being fucking awesome!” Fiona cried.
I saw the medicine cabinet and opened it up. An inhaler, Viagra (don’t ask), bullshit herbs, and a needle. I held the needle by my eye. Adrenaline RX for Kiwi. She had an allergy! “Fiona, does Kiwi avoid any foods?”
Fiona was on the ground. “She never eats shellfish or nuts.”
Wait a minute. I looked at twenty cardboard boxes of shrimp I had piled on the table. The local fisher’s market was running a deal on my way over, so I grabbed twenty. I looked at the other twenty cardboard boxes of nuts I brought. It actually took me five trips to bring all my boxes. Why did she let me bring them in? Ohhhhh. That’s right. She said she was cooking and to let myself in.
I ran to the cardboard boxes, took five trips outside, doused them in lighter fluid, and burned the fuckers. I smiled over the blaze. “You fuckers did this to Kiwi!” I yelled. Wait. Kiwi. I ran back inside. Fiona was sobbing. I got on my knees parallel to Kiwi. I put my ear to her chest and mouth. Everything was slowing. Stupid shrimp and peanut butter. I turned to Fiona. “Can you do the shot in her chest?” I made the slashing motion from the movie.
Fiona looked back through tears. “Next time I cause the bitch to have an allergy, I’ll do the shot!”
I snickered. Well played, Tarantino. Kiwi’s chest was sinking. I tore open her shirt, grabbed a wipe, and cleaned the surface of her skin. I held the needle like I was Michael Fucking Myers and did a full slash onto her breast bone.
“Ahhhhhhhhh!” Kiwi shot up like Undertaker in the ring. She wheezed, gasped, and had a mess on her mouth. She saw her chest. “What the fuck!?” She scowled at Fiona who was in a puddle of her own tears.
“Kiwi, do you have an allergy to shellfish or peanut butter?” I asked.
She tightened her brows in disgust. “Fuck you Hawtorn! It’s not a secret. It’s in the fucking kitchen and on my bracelet!” She showed me her wrist. It did say that. I looked closer, and she popped me in the nose. “You stupid fuck! Did you stab me with a needle?”
My eyes went side to side. “Noooooo… that was Fiona. Fiona, you need prayer, guuuuurl. Fiona looked back with tears almost of crimson. That wasn’t going to work. “There were great deals…”
Kiwi grabbed me by the collar and pulled me in. “Dude, I seen some shit. Don’t think I haven’t. You’re going to fix this, or I’ll make you see more shit, too!” She landed a left hook. My head rocked. I guess I deserved that?
“Okay, how is your chest?” I asked, trying to change the subject.
Kiwi felt at her chest and saw the needle hanging out. “Oh my God!”
I came close. “I’ll never forget when I thought you were a dude from New Zealand.”
Kiwi stared in anger. She opened her mouth and began to yell, “Is this REALLY the time –” I pulled out the needle, laid her on her back again, and held another wipe on her chest. I reached into my back pocket and pulled out clean gauze. I grabbed medical tape from my pant leg and taped it down.
“What did you do?!” she asked.
“I kept you from thinking about it,” I responded. “Take a few minutes to rest.” I put a pillow under her head. Fiona was dazed. I made some tea and got two warm compresses. I placed one on Fiona’s neck and one on Kiwi’s forehead.
I handed Fiona some tea. She drank. I went back to the kitchen and found a Pedialyte and poured it into two water bottles. I came back. “Ladies, please drink.” I sat on the floor.
“Okay, how do you know all of that?” Fiona asked.
“Teacher.”
“Do we take Kiwi to the hospital?” Fiona asked?
Kiwi looked up. “Fuck no! Those copays are monsters!”
I saw both. “Here’s a compromise. Kiwi, we treat you like you are on suicide watch. You’re fine, but we keep eyes on you all night.”
Fiona stretched her neck. “I guess that works. What if we get tired?”
I thought for a minute. “We work on our next live episodes or posts while we’re awake.”
Kiwi stood up. “Hawtorn! You ruined a perfectly good night!”
I bowed my head. “How can I fix it?”
“Get your ass in the kitchen and finish it!” I did. She went to the shower. So did Fiona.
We ate dinner in silence. “I’m so angry with you,” Kiwi growled.
“Fuck you so much!” Fiona added.
“Yeah, um. Sorry?”
Kiwi got up. Fiona asked me about my plans for my next live. “Well, I might be changing masks and AHHHHHHHH!” I fell over. Kiwi came from behind. She had a taser.
“So you think you can knock me out and needle me and it’s all cool?”
I tried to respond, but I lost control of my body. “Fiona, get me that needle.” Fiona did. “Don’t worry, Hawtorn, I’ll take the medicine out and clean the needle. I’m not a sick fuck.”
Fiona laughed. She got beside me, tore off my shirt, and used one of my wipes to clean my chest. Kiwi used my wipes to clean her needle. “You tased me, bro?” I shuddered.
“What the fuck did you call what you did? A fiction?” Kiwi looked to Fiona.
“Pulp Fiction. Look at the clip.” Fiona handed Kiwi the scene. Kiwi gasped.
“You thought that was an appropriate response to an allergy!?”
I looked nervously. “Yes?”
Kiwi let out a scream. “I have no words, but if I miss, I can’t promise I will care enough to bring you back!” She Michael Myersed me in the chest with the needle. I tried to let out a scream, but my muscles in all my body were still weak from the taser.
“Kelly Clarkson!” I let out.
“What the fuck?!” Kiwi roared. Fiona gently touched her shoulder and rubbed her back.
“It’s millennial humor, Kiwi.”
I was dazed on the floor. “How long are we leaving this in?” Kiwi smirked. Nodded to Fiona. Fiona made a move and went to my pants. She started unbuckling them and slid them down. That took a turn. She made a face. So did Kiwi. “Wait, this is happening?” They kissed again. Kiwi began to slide my pants down.
“Ouch, FUCK!” Fiona pulled out the needle.
“I’m no sick bastard, Hawtorn; I made sure you weren’t thinking about it!” She pulled out my wipes and gauze. Cleaned and cared for my chest.
We all sat down on the couch. All shook up. “We were going to practice for Fiona.” I shook my head. Fiona looked at Kiwi, and Kiwi looked at Fiona.
“I think we need to get out of these dirty clothes,” Kiwi nodded.
“Right” Fiona smirked.
They did.
“I’m so gross.” I sounded sad. “I need a shower.”
Fiona took off my top and then Fiona my bottom. “Then let’s go clean up.” Winks came from both.
Ohhhhhh. We walked to the shower. The steam turned on. I followed.
Fiona would write her story, alright. After some practice.
Thirty minutes later, the fire alarm interrupted us.
“Shit!” I groaned. Was this the shellfish and nuts blaze?
I panicked as we exited. I looked around outside. My fire had burnt out. The fire alarm was JUST a gas leak. Not my fault. I put my arms around both. “So, are we all calling in sick tomorrow?”
I hope you enjoyed! Didn’t I say it would be entertaining? That’s what happens when you let Hawtorn decide an ending. Does anyone know pulp fiction? Any who, if you enjoyed his ending here, you should check out his book!
And if you enjoyed the beginning, you should subscribe to Fiona as well - things get a lot more heated on her sexystack. ;)
As for me - you can subscribe if you want to. I am a mix of depressing feelings, hot stories and “wtf did I just read” moments.
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This was so entertaining.
Omg lovely read! I felt trapped in a corner, watching and listening to this beautiful interaction. The description is genuine and sarcastic at the same time! Well done!