Adult-FanFiction.org : Cartoons

The Long Weekend 2	By : TimedWatcher Category: +S through Z > Weekenders, The Views: 1798 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Weekenders, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
AN: Chapter 7 is the real finale, but unlike the other non-canon epilogue, this was not part of a much larger concepted ending. I just wanted to write something new with the setting. And I don't normally do this, but I want to shout out phil-tyler-.42, who is a big fan of the story and partially inspired me to do this.

7am was starting to look like 4am.
This was not good.
Worse than that, he looked on to the wide expanse of white fields, as the grass had started to frost over - not freezing fully, just yet - but he knew he didn't have much time.
He threw on his jacket, getting ready for take off. "Gord! Gordon! Stop! Stop!"
He tried to blow her off. "Lor, I've got shit to do."
The mass of Lor checked into his back, before wrapping around his middle. He normally would have liked this, but he really was busy. "Please don't fight me on this. Please."
He thought about taking off anyway, just with her attached - but he thought better of it, putting his rattling fists down. As he stepped back inside with Lor, he noticed that the wood of the porch had begun to expand from the moisture.
================================
It was another small town convenience store in another state he had never been to. The only difference was a nearly visible set of foggy looking mountains in the distance. No cameras or monitors in sight because they trusted their neighbors.
God he hated doing this.
The eyes of the clerk didn't even bother him at this point - mainly because he wasn't staring his way, busy putting away things. Even with the doorbell's ring, he didn't care. Part of him thought it was a good thing he was ripping off the bandaid like this. He poured over the aisles, ignoring the brass colored stacks of beers, making mental notes of things they could use.
Passing more of the wood panelling and rows of fridges, he wandered over to the magazine racks - but his neck snapped, and he scrambled to pick up a newspaper sitting in its own tray. Crinkled up, he let it breathe in the middle again as he relaxed his hands. 'Bahia Bay Metropolis Falls to Supervillain Siege'
He had considered bringing it home for something Lor and him could read - but he decided to snatch the Archie digests instead.
================================
He had so many responsibilities now, it was crazy.
Non-perishables had been something they had been stockpiling. He wouldn't admit to how many convenience store jerky stands he knocked over. They were light and he could carry a ton of them, or the amount of canned beans and ravioli he was "totally going to buy". He had a few close calls with being caught, but it was hard to catch somebody who could fly. And if he wasn't flying out to get food, he was using a wheelbarrow to bring back some wood after a long day of chopping.
It wasn't so much the swinging that was the problem - though that had its issues, like getting something he was sure was tennis elbow - it was having to go out to the spot that had the trees in the first place, bringing along his wheelbarrow and equipment, then having to haul it all back. As he chopped and wheeled the firewood needed for the upcoming winter, he always dreaded the idea of doing this on a dryly cold January day.
As for Lor, she didn't know the first thing about farm work, but she took to it with keen interest. At least the animal part, as they had to rear live chickens, or at least just feed them. Though that seemed to be more Lor's field, and he left her to it, watching her sometimes as she would lead them back into the chicken coup at night. He watched Lor pick up a bucket, looking heavy to her even though there wasn't much in it besides feed. That was the thing about working with women; he wanted to drop everything to help her, but held himself back as he still had his chores to do.
God... chores. The very idea back then annoyed him, but now it was just his reality. His life. He finally understood his father's work ethic. In and out, a kiss on an understanding Lor's face, and he was gone again. When he first started, he worried about Lor being alone - but those thoughts faded - she was a big girl and there were more important things to worry about.
Lor had tied up her hair in a ponytail, which oddly framed her face, but he still liked how she looked. He wondered what she thought of him and his mountain man exterior these days -- though that might have been just giving himself too much credit, as he could also see himself as being a deranged homeless man. There was hardly anytime to be presentable to one another, or... sexually appealing. As for sex itself... it was hard to explain. It was something they both wanted, but she gave to him. With him being so busy, he couldn't actively seek it out, and it felt like Lor could read him like a book whenever she delivered.
Mounting her pale ass on a pile of cut logs was one of the best moments in his life.
================================
A month and a half later.
It was another cold January day. Fire crackled as they huddled underneath two blankets for warmth they did need on a mattress Gordon moved in front of the fire place several months ago for those brisk fall days.
Lor and Gordon exchanged closed mouth kisses, not wanting to deal with eachothers breath, as they were out of their last bottle of mouth wash. Unfortunately, he came to find out he couldn't fly during winter months, his face totally icing over except on the very few sunny days. "Want to-" He nodded, as she turned herself to him, while slipping down her pants. He did likewise, as she spat into her hand before reaching back behind herself. The wetness in her hand lukewarm and gross as she spread it along her asshole. He waited for his turn, his dick pressing betwixt her toasted buns; their pushback as soft as his spongey head.
He searched for her entry, as Lor's mouth pursed, as she anticipated him and the feeling to come. He stared over her shoulder, trying to see her face, before making a lunge into her. "Agh-" She quietly moaned, as he laid careful kisses along the nape of her neck, their bodies intertwined like many times before. Hands on her hips, his thrusts were clinical, as Lor accepted the pain she was bestowed like a gift, her face cradling into her limpening wrist as their bed was jostled.
He came without an announcement, Lor feeling all of it, as she craned her neck back in search of another kiss. He offered it, and this time, both of them uncaring for the smell of eachother's breaths, a longer open mouthed one shared between them. Lor never felt like she needed to orgasm when she had moments like this.
His penis fled her butt, softening. He laid back, his focus on the kettle they'd use to boil snow for water over the fire. He hated having to drink, because it would mean having to go outside to piss. He turned back to Lor, seeing her nearly fall off the bed trying to grab a dirty towel off the floor. As she wiped herself down, his teeth chattered out a request. "Lor, tell me another story about you and your friends back then."
"Okay, so... me and Carver were invited to the cool kids party, and Tino and Tish were too, but they really weren't -- and on top of that, they were told it was a costume party, when it wasn't..." Lor smiled briefly remembering that detail. As he listened to Lor's story, he watched the burn carefully, knowing he'd have to replenish it soon.
As he shivered coming back inside, he tossed the wood down, watching the older ones crumple to ash underneath them. Crawling into bed, he landed on his side. Lor's warmth and the fire pleasing, as he watched it dance and lick her orange hair into shades of red. Gordon pushed away some of her hair that had fallen over her soft lips. So many things she didn't have anymore. Yet Lor... didn't stress. She was always there for him, and she slept so peacefully... he was glad the outside world couldn't get to her, and she didn't know about some of the stuff going on. He sighed, knowing he could have never done this without her.
As he pulled up his side of the sheet over himself, she stirred.
Lor saw her friends on a funeral pyre, as they all looked defeated, as a hooded man with a large sword and a burning fist stood above them, unaffected by the flames. Tish had the back of her hand on her forehead, eyes shut, screaming out. Carver was flat on his face, with blood as his drool. Tino was sat, legs open, arms on his thighs, hands as if that of a beggar - she couldn't see his eyes, darkened by shadows, his neck slack and resting on his shoulder.
It ran on repeat in her mind for the past few months, with her only break from the vision being replaced by seeing her lover being blown away or arrested outside convenience stores.
A tear ran down her face.
- 7
- 8
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Long Weekend 2