A Lewd Cultivator in Brockton Bay 4: Unexpected (Patreon)

A Lewd Cultivator in Brockton Bay
Chapter 4: Unexpected 

-VB-

I knew that something was wrong with Amy when she came into the house from her stormy and downcast face, but she didn’t say anything. I would have said something but I was kind of busy and a little strained.

Because, as usual, I was working out in the free time I had.

One of the fundamental basics of martial arts was endurance, but endurance itself was the average of many aspects of the body rather than an aspect in and of itself. For example, one could be a wonderful swimmer capable of marathoning miles and miles of water yet they wouldn’t last as long on a bicycle. A runner wouldn’t do well as a climber nor would a climber run as long. 

The holistic level of endurance was only as strong as the weakest part of the body. 

To that end, I was doing something different. Instead of running, weight-lifting, and similar normal exercises, I took a very fucking uncomfortable pose that used muscles I didn’t even know I had … and held it.

I ignored many drops of sweat running down my face in a slow cascade as I continued to hold my hand-stand-into-”flying striking” kicking pose that had my butt horizontal to my head and legs kicking above that line.

And I’ve been doing this for two hours now.

Everything hurts.

And yet, I kept it up. 

Amy stared at me for the seventh time today. “Are you sure it’s doing something for you? All I see is you sweating.” I didn’t know why but she looked a little sad. 

“Why not just stare at my biology?”

“Nah. I’m not touching a smelly sweaty old man unless it’s work related.”

I grunted instead of replying to her bait. 

My body strained to keep myself in place. 

I could almost see her smirk as she spoke up again. “Come on, it’s been over two hours. You can relax.”

“Three hours. Amy, I will tickle you so hard that you will cry,” I growled as the strain became worse with her goading. My arms trembled from the exertion and -.

“Boo.”

I tipped over. 

“That’s it-!” I growled as I got back up but Amy was already running for it. It took me all of two seconds to reach her, but she tripped over something on the floor. And then I tripped over her. “Oh sh-!”

“KYAAH!” 

We tumbled and ended up tangled with each other. 

“Ugh, now I’m going to be smelly.”

I snorted. “You get what you deserve.” I untangled myself from Amy, and helped her up. “Anyways, what are you here for today? I thought you were pulling a long shift.”

She frowned. “ I was supposed to be, but after the thirty critical patients and one hundred non-critical care patients, I decided I am done with shifts today.”

I snorted. “Lucky of you to be able to choose your own shift and no one can do anything about it.”

“And you? You’re a software engineer.”

“That takes a lot of time, Amy. Like a fuck ton of time. If I don’t keep a good schedule in how I move through that shit, then I will not be able to present, deliver, or whatever I need to do with that program in time. And if I don’t complete it in time, then I don’t get paid.”

“Hmm,” she narrowed her eyes at me skeptically. “Whatever.” I looked over her. “Not gonna wash?”

She blinked and sniffed. “Ugh, men odors,” she grumbled before walking upstairs to use my bathroom. “I’m grabbing some of your shirt and pants!”

I grumbled. She used my home as her second home. I wasn’t against it, because she always seemed more relaxed here than anywhere else (I stalked her twice, okay?), but damn, does she have to be blunt about it. 

-VB-

“Hey, Alan.”

I looked up from my big serving cooking. Big muscles needed more nutrients, ya know?!

Amy frowned while standing at the second to last step on the staircase and wearing my long sleeve button-up shirt and pair of nylon pants. But why did she keep the front of her shirt open?

“Alan, am I ugly?”

Startled, I stood up and hurried to her. I was a little drunk, but not as drunk as I should have been after a quarter of a vodka bottle. Thankfully, I did not stumble as I walked up to her and held her by her shoulders.

“Amy, did something happen?” I asked.

“Am I ugly, Alan?” she asked again.

I knew that this was an issue I had to take care of carefully, because there were a lot of things going in on her life right now (being an emotionally unstable superpowered teenager in an uncomfortable home life). I didn’t want to push her towards… anything in particular. 

“Amy, you’re pretty,” I replied slowly. “But insecurities about your appearance shouldn’t be why you come out of the bathroom without buttoning the shirt close,” I said as I slowly reached for the buttons and cl-

She pushed my arms aside almost carelessly before wrapping her arms around me.

And then she started crying.

Oh boy.

-VB-

“So Vicky didn’t ‘want’ you,” I sighed as I held Amy on the couch. She sat on my lap with her hands clutching my shirt. She didn’t respond to my words, but I knew that she was listening so far. “I still don’t see why that would get you to come to me half undressed.”

“Because you’re a guy, idiot.”

“Hmm?”

“You’re a guy. You can see if a girl is pretty or not.”

“I thought girls were the ones who were better at that kind of stuff.”

“Sexist.”

“Just uninformed.”

“... So am I really pretty?”

“Yes, you are,” I said without a hint of sarcasm or ass kissing. “You are certainly not the model beauty that people think of, but you are a cute freckled healer. You are very certainly pretty on your own right.”

She didn’t say anything but judging by the fact that she was touching my skin, she was trying to discern if I was lying or not. Considering that she was able to see less and less of my biology as time went on, I considered it to be a vain attempt, but if it gave her relief, then I wouldn’t stop her or mention that I can see her attempting to discern the truth of my words.

Because she was pretty. She wasn’t the long legged, S-curved, bombastic, blonde hair, and blue eyed models that so many people thought of as northern European beauty. No, she was closer to the smaller, lean, sarcastic, and appreciative cutie that I liked. 

“Besides, you aren’t causing collateral damage all of the time,” I added. “Pretty or not, Victoria is not the type of girl I want as my girlfriend. She’s too much like her mother.”

Amy giggled a little wetly. She quieted again before she looked up. “I want a kiss.”

I blinked and felt my heart jump a little at the doe-eyed Amy asking me for a kiss.

This was a direction I liked to see… but I didn’t want to use her. No, I wanted her to be better, not for me to get into her pants.

“Is it because you want to see if you are pretty enough for your friend to kiss you?”

She blushed, having been caught.

“Yes,” she mumbled as she looked down.

“Amy, if I kiss you, then it’ll be because I am your boyfriend or husband.” The latter, I wanted to be. 

She fiddled with her fingers. “I mean, I’m not exactly… you know.”

“Straight as a ruler?”

“Rulers bend.”

“Pencil, then.”

“Yeah.”

“You and I both know that your sexuality have been influenced significantly by Victoria’s power, not any of your internal decisions and wants.”

“You mean that’s our current theory.”

“Yes.”

“Then kiss me. I want to know if I like a boy kissing me.”

“I’m a boy?”

“Man. Boy. Whatever.”

“Then, for the sake of your experimentation, I shall acquiesce, your highness.”

“You and your-mmm!”

I tilted her head up and kissed her. Her eyes widened for a second before she squeezed her eyes close. I took a step further than just a chaste lip-to-lip kiss. I opened my mouth and slipped my tongue out, pushing between her lips. She let out a muffled squeal before she opened her lips and mouth slowly with a little tremble in her body. 

My tongue moved in slowly to not surprise her, and touched her tongue. Amy’s grip on my shirt grew tighter as our tongues touched, recoiled, touched again, rolled around, and began a private wet dance.

And just as it started, I stopped it. I broke the kiss and leaned away from her, and it was to Amy’s surprise when she reached for more. A thin bridge of saliva connected us for a single moment before it broke.

“I take it that you liked it,” I grinned.

“...Yeah,” she replied as she looked back down with a heavy blush. “I liked it.”

“So you’re bisexual then, not a straight lesbian as you confessed yourself to be.”

“I guess…”

“Then will you go out with me?”

She looked up sharply with wide eyes before they narrowed. “Don’t patri-”

Whatever she intended to say was cut off when I kissed her again. This time, I shifted her from a side saddle on my lap into a proper saddle. Amy squeaked and then whimpered with shut eyes as I held and kissed her at the same time.

I broke the kiss again.

“Yes or no?”

“You’re a decade older than me-!”

I kissed her again, and she leaned into it. Again, I broke it before she could fully enjoy it. Amy growled at me when I did so, and I decided that I liked this kind of teasing.

“Yes or no, Amy?”

“Yes, just kiss me more, damn it,” she growled.

I obliged.

I will continue to help Amy, but I would do it as her boyfriend now.