Chapter Text
Back in the day, you were the kind of girl that could be found dancing on tabletops and out drinking every meathead in whatever grimy establishment you'd stumbled into for the night.
That version of you would probably be horrified to see the way you spend your Saturday nights now.
Truth is, you don't care at all. You love the little weekend ritual you'd created for yourself in the year since the abrupt end to your engagement. At thirty two years old, you're choosing to embrace the freedom that comes with having no kids, husband, or mortgage.
So that means you like to smoke a joint on your front porch as the sun is setting on your quiet street that's tucked away from the busier parts of the city. It also means that pants are optional while you sprawl out on the couch and load Animal Crossing: New Horizons on your TV to work on your astrology themed island. And most importantly: it means you can do all of this without some sad excuse of a fiance whining in your ear that your hobbies are childish.
Because while you like to get high and play video games, at least you can say you've never fucked your best friend's girlfriend while still engaged to someone else.
The only being on this planet that you'll tolerate judging you now is Mazzy, the sassy little grey cat currently curled up in the arm chair in the corner of your living room. And she always is, but she does so silently.
You hum along to the golden hour music of the game as you plant some glowing moss in your virtual garden, momentarily dazed by the graphics when your stomach growls.
"Oh shit." You giggle and sit up, realization piercing through your THC induced euphoria. "Mazzy, I forgot I ordered Wingstop!"
Your cat narrows her green eyes at you and yawns, completely uninterested in your latest case of the munchies. You dig around the couch for your phone and curse when you see there was a ring notification from twenty minutes ago when your Doordash driver dropped off your order.
"Fuck!"
After scanning the room and finding your sleep shorts, you quickly yank them on and run down your private stairwell, praying to the fast food gods that your order is still outside. You open the door to the small hallway that connects your apartment to the first floor unit and peer out onto the porch, relieved to see a green and white bag waiting there for you.
"Oh thank god!" You push open the front door and step into the warm, spring air.
When you pick up the bag, the unfamiliar scent of something sweet and tangy hits your nose. Frowning, you scan the receipt stuck to the front of the bag and see this order has hot honey and mango habenero tenders with voodoo fries, a.k.a nothing that you ordered. In fact, whoever did order this happened to pick out the flavors you wouldn't eat even in your compromised state.
A more thorough scan of the receipt tells you that this order belongs to your neighbor downstairs based on the address and there's just the initial 'T' being used as the customer name. You have no idea who this person is since they moved in while you were at work last week and you're not really the type to go out of your way to be social. But you're definitely going to make your presence known now.
You step back into the hallway and bang on the front door of the downstairs apartment, ready to chew out whoever is on the other side of that door. To your horror, out walks the third-to-last person you ever wanted to see, right behind your ex and the girl he replaced you with. The man before you with frizzy, bleach blonde hair is shirtless with his gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips as he holds a half-eaten Louisianna Rub tender. The smell of weed and your favorite wing flavor pours out of the apartment.
"Oh for fuck's sake…" Your jaw drops when it registers who your new neighbor is. "Teacake?"
"Hm?" His curls bounce as he shakes his head and his bloodshot eyes zero in on you. "Oh shit…it's you."
"Yeah." A million questions go through your head: What the hell are you doing living in the apartment below mine? Has your best friend, the same guy who ripped my heart out of my chest, died a slow and painful death yet? What have you been up to in the last year since our exes ruined our fucking lives? But you opt to stay on topic. "Did you take my Wingstop order?"
"What?" He chuckles, as if that's the most ridiculous thing he's been accused of. Which you find ironic considering this man's been to prison for unknowingly being some other idiot's getaway driver after robbing a convenience store. "No, 'course I didn't."
"Really?" You tilt your head to the side and lift the bag you're holding. "Because this one doesn't have anything I ordered and last I checked I live in unit two, not one."
He stares at the bag and looks back at the tender he's eating. "Fuck…I thought these tasted a little different."
"Are you kidding me?" you yell, though part of you wants to ask what he's smoking that gets him that out of it. "Who the hell does that!"
"Fuck, I'm really sorry." He holds up his hands, still grasping the god forsaken tender that taunts you. "It's been a long day buildin' furniture, unpackin', and shit."
"Whatever." You shake the bag. "Can we just switch so I can get on with my night?"
"Er…" He swallows and winces. "This is the last one. Already ate the others. And the fries."
You scoff. "You ate five tenders and a large side of fries in twenty minutes?"
"Technically, four and a half." He waves the last remains of your order in your face, holding back a laugh. "You can keep my order."
"I don't like the flavors you picked!" You shove the bag at him and you swear you see him smirk, making you even more annoyed. "I'd rather chew on glass than eat hot honey tenders."
He shakes his head. "Now that's just crazy talk. What'd hot honey ever do to you?"
"Be the stupid flavor that you chose to order tonight." You cross your arms and turn toward the door to your apartment. "Welcome to the neighborhood, I guess."
"Hey, wait," Teacake calls out your name and leans back on his door frame, grinning when you turn around. "You're looking pretty good by the way. Haven't see you since—"
"No!" You hold up a hand, your palm facing him. "Let me make one thing clear: we are not going to talk about James and Amber. Ever. In fact, let's just not talk at all."
"Come on, babydoll." His hazel eyes twinkle, and you hate how you're staring enough to notice the flecks of green under the hallway light. "We're neighbors now. If you wanna come in and get comfortable, I'll order you some more food."
You roll your eyes. "Pass."
Before that big mouth of his can say anything else, you push through your door and trudge up the stairs to return to your sanctuary. You pull out your phone and call your sister, not wanting to wait to tell her which ghost from your humiliating past just moved in downstairs.
After a Wingstop-less evening, you wake up trying to wrap your head around the fact that James' best friend and Amber's ex-boyfriend now lives in the apartment under yours.
You'd worked so hard to build your new normal totally separate from that group that had taken up so much real estate in your life. Truth be told, you didn't even like hanging out with James' friends on the best of days. Teacake wasn't the worst of them; in fact despite being spacey and impulsive, you might dare to say he's a nice guy. But you found him completely untrustworthy due to his awful taste in women, exhibit A being Amber, the wannabe wellness influencer that never ran out of condescending things to say to you.
Not to mention, Teacake had always been the doormat of the group. At least, you thought he'd been way too forgiving of all the shitty things his friends always did. You have no idea what his relationship with them all is like now since all you'd heard after the implosion of your engagement was that he'd gone off the grid on some sort of retreat to nurse his broken heart. You wouldn't be surprised though if he'd found it in his wanderlust, bohemian heart to forgive James and Amber. That terrifies you, because if either of those two ever set foot on your porch, you're not confident in your ability to keep your cool. You definitely don't need to give James and Amber another reason to see you as some bitter, hysterical ex.
The whole thing is absolutely fucked. You pad around your kitchen to make your morning coffee and think about how Teacake would respond to a mysterious, threatening letter asking him to move out immediately.
Seriously. The whole city of Boston and he just had to move into the vacant unit below you?
You spend the morning sprawled out on the couch with Mazzy, watching TV and scrolling through Tiktok at the same time with the hope that the screen overload will get your mind off of things. Then, at around one in the afternoon, someone rings your doorbell. You get up and swipe the touchscreen in your living room, groaning when you see Teacake, still shirtless, standing on the porch in front of your Ring camera.
"Go away," you yell into the speaker.
"Can we talk, please?" Teacake holds up a Wingstop bag to the camera. "I brought a peace offering."
You lean against the wall and consider your options. Unfortunately, you are pretty hungry and still craving the chicken tenders you were denied last night. So you open the front door and go downstairs to meet Teacake in your shared hallway.
He offers a lopsided smile when you open the door and offers the bag to you. "Five Louisianna Rub tenders and a large side of lemon pepper fries."
You take bag and narrow your eyes. "Did you get them well done?"
Teacake scoffs. "Obviously."
"Hm." You drum your fingers on the door frame. "And did you get extra ranch?"
"I'm no amateur, honey." He puts his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. "Gotta say, I've always loved a woman that knows how to eat."
That definitely doesn't track, considering Amber once tried to convince you that dates covered in almond butter taste the same as a snickers bar. "What are you even doing here in Boston? I thought you were moving back to Atchison after the breakup."
He shrugs. "Didn't wanna have to leave my job at the studio. Weren't a lot of openings as a yoga teacher in Kansas."
"Well…payment accepted." You hug the bag to your chest. "That bought you five more minutes of conversation."
"Alright." Teacake huffs out a laugh. "It occurred to me that you might be worried about if any, well…familiar characters are gonna be comin' round here."
"The thought crossed my mind." You reach into the bag and take a bite of a fry.
"Trust me, that ain't happenin'." He slices the air with his hand to emphasize his point. "I really don't talk much to those guys anymore, but especially not James and Amber."
You raise your eyebrows. "That's somewhat reassuring."
"Yeah." Teacake scratches the back of his neck. "So, if you…I don't know, you don't have to avoid me. Because of that."
The kind, vulnerable expression on his face reminds you that this guy was hurt too, more so than you thought if he's actually cut his best friend out of his life. Maybe he deserves a bit of grace for his takeout mishap. You already didn't have a ton of friends before James, so you can only imagine how lonely he must feel. Under different circumstances, maybe you could've help with that.
"Listen, thanks for the food," You gesture to the bag. "I don't mean to be bitchy, but as much as I'd like to say I've moved past the break up…it still hurts a lot. Looking at you just reminds me of a time in my life that I'm actively trying to forget."
Teacake flinches. "I was just as blindsided as you, ya know."
"I know you were," you say honestly. The image of him showing up at the doorstep of your old apartment (the one you shared with James) with tear stained cheeks and a wild, desperate stare is burned into your memory forever. "I'm not saying it's your fault, the reminder part I mean. I just spent so much time tied up in your friend group's drama and then ultimately became a casualty so…that's why I'm not really looking to hang out anytime soon."
He gives you a strange expression that you can't quite name. Like you've caught him off guard. "I'm real sorry about all that."
"No need to be." You shrug. "Already told you it's not your fault. Just don't crowd my car in the driveway or take my food when I have the munchies again and we'll be good."
"Munchies?" Teacake puts his hands on his hips and tilts his head. "You smoke pot?"
He looks at you with renewed interest, his adorable, wide eyes reminding you of a golden retriever desperate to play. You force yourself to ignore the warmth that blooms low in your gut and turn back into your stairwell. "Goodbye, Teacake."
You manage to go a whole three days without another reminder of Teacake's presence. You settle back into your routine and throw yourself into work on Monday while Mazzy supervises your efforts from the daybed in your home office.
By Wednesday night, you're in need of a reset from the corporate grind, so you pour yourself a glass of wine and settle into bed early to watch a movie. While you're scrolling through options on Netflix, a faint thumping noise travels up from below.
You think nothing of it at first since it sounds just like the dryer you always used to hear when your old neighbors lived downstairs. Then you hear the moaning.
"Fuck!" A distinctly female voice yells. "Just like that…"
"Oh. You gotta be kidding me." You lean back against the headboard and put on whatever your remote had been hovering over, cranking the volume all the way up.
"That's right," Teacake grunts, loud enough to still be audible above the movie. "Takin' me so well."
You grab a pillow next to you and scream into it, even though you know this anger is not rational at all. Teacake is a grown man and is allowed to fuck whoever he wants, you just really wish you didn't have to be made aware of it. Not just because you like to forget his world currently exists right below your feet, but also that there was a part of you kind of now somewhat interested in what sex with Teacake would be like.
Hell, this random girl seems to be having a good time. Better than any of your previous experiences, as sad as that is to admit. Your cheeks burn as you dig through your nighstand for your wireless headphones and connect them to your TV so you can block out the noise.
Two days later on Friday night, you're reading on your back porch when you hear Teacake's door open below. Soft voices carry up to you, and you realize that he's got a woman with him again. Judging by the fact her voice is noticeably different from last time, it's someone new too. You roll your eyes and return to your book, considering you were here first and it sounds like they're just sharing a joint anyway.
"What is this?" The girl giggles. "I feel so…I don't know, like, amazing."
Wonder if it's the same strain that makes him take Wingstop orders that aren't his…You huff and sink further into your chair.
"Yeah?" Teacake chuckles. "I'd love to add onto that feeling if you're up for it."
They continue to giggle and shift on the cushions of his patio couch. You hear a zipper pulled down and fabric sliding off of someone's legs. Your head snaps up, thinking that surely he's not going to…
The unmistakable sounds of wet, open mouth kisses on that girl's pussy fill the air, followed by her cries of pleasure. You sit up and plan on going inside when Teacake's muffled groans make you freeze.
You thought enthusiastic eaters like this only existed in legend (and the romance novels you read). But right now you're experiencing second hand exposure to a real life man that's lapping at some girl's cunt like it's his last meal. You should go back inside, as it now feels weird to listen in on them. But it's not like you set out to do this, you were minding your own business on your porch. Plus, there were other duplexes not even six feet away from yours…anyone could see them.
The thought caused heat to pool low in your belly. You drag a hand down your face and quickly go back inside, not hesitating to grab your vibrator once you're safely back in your room. You'd never admit this to anyone else, but you get off that night at the image of a bleach blonde stoner enthusiastically going down on you.
Once you've wrung every last drop of pleasure from yourself, you march into your office and start typing up a spreadsheet.
You stomp down the steps to Teacake's apartment first thing the next day, not even thinking about your bed head and morning breath before banging on his door. He opens it while holding a breakfast burrito, not wearing a shirt (you're starting to think he never does when he's home). You force yourself not to stare at his chest hair or how firm his pecs feel when you slap the piece of paper you have on them.
His brow furrows as he scans the paper, still chewing on his burrito. "What's this?"
You cross your arms. "My weekly schedule."
He stares at it and raises an eyebrow, laughing when he looks back up at you. "You plan your TV time?"
"It's not locked in stone, it's just my average routine." You poke the page with your pointer figure. "I'm giving it to you for reference so that you can plan your booty calls at times that are more convenient for me."
"Oh?" His eyes twinkle as he sighs. "Listen, I know you're territorial of this house—"
"Excuse me? I am not."
"Babydoll, you've been growling and snapping like a rabid dog. Think I can't hear you slammin' doors and shit up there? It's kinda cute actually, not gonna lie." He winks, making you scowl. "Anyway, those intimate moments of mine aren't planned so I don't need this."
He holds the paper out and you shove his hand back towards him. "Well, maybe you can start planning them because I'm sick of listening to it when I'm trying to relax."
Teacake stares at you for a moment, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. "You know…you're always welcome to join if ya want."
Your face burns as your mouth falls open. Amber must've really done a number on him, because you don't remember him ever being this forward. "Ha. Fuck you."
A stupidly smug smile spreads on his lips, which he then licks as he drinks you in with his eyes. "That's what I'm offering."
If you didn't know he's just messing with you, due to the fact that you know you're not someone he'd ever been interested in, you might be tempted to jump into his arms and take him up on said offer.
"UGH! You're disgusting!" You march back upstairs, but not before flipping him off.
From that day on, you decide that Teacake is at the top of your shit list, shared trauma be damned.