Work Text:
Heaven or Hell
Courtney Flores was many things. Dedicated, creative, supportive of her friends. The thing that she wasn’t? Patient. She didn’t forgive easily. She sometimes hated someone on sight. Go with the flow was not in Courtney’s vocabulary. Everything had a place and a time to get done, and there was no need to argue over it.
That’s what made her good at her job as a wedding planner. Nothing was better than controlling someone else’s dream wedding, getting the credit for it, and being paid.
Praised by many as the number one wedding planner in Toronto. She worked with whoever could afford her. But the current wedding she had been working on was a year in the making. It was her best friend Bridgette’s wedding. She was marrying Geoff Moore. He was fine, but he was more of her ex-boyfriend's friend than her own. He was nice enough, and Bridgette liked him. He still would call to see if she wanted to come over for game night, but if she went to game night, Duncan would be there.
But he was there whenever she went anyway. He might have been a shit boyfriend, but he was a good uncle. That pissed her off more.
However, when he was at Bridgette and Geoff's place, she would use that to her advantage. Speaking loudly as she told Bridgette about a date she had been on. Dates that were with people better than Duncan. People who had lucrative careers, such as doctors and surgeons. Did those men usually bore the hell out of her? Yes. But it was nice to rub Duncan’s nose in it.
He always had some weird confidence that intertwined with self-loathing that always made her want to scream.
See how happy I am since we broke up? See how many men that are better than you in every way? She would think when she saw him move his head to them.
She would wait to have him eavesdrop to talk about the sex that she never had. Or the sex that she did have, but she made it to where she actually came. Those stories always made him angry, according to Bridgette. So much so that Courtney had to not talk about it while he was over.
Going on a date with someone was fine, but did he just think her pussy belonged to him still? He got to go fuck all of Toronto, but it was her who had to save her chastity around him?
If she wanted to have sex, she should be able to! No matter how dull it was.
Now, she stood in the elevator of a condo building she wasn’t familiar with. Her lips were almost numb from the alcohol she had been drinking. Her back leaned against the railing as she scrolled on her phone. She just had another night of lackluster sex. She didn’t go to some random guy's place for sex, but lately she’d been lonely. He wasn’t a good conversationalist nor good in bed. He got all pissy when she tried to tell him just what she wanted when he was down there. Duncan would get pissed off over stuff that she didn’t think mattered. That would cause an argument that left her with a headache. But at least he listened the first time they had sex. He seemed to be really into it, too.
She went down her feed more, and she got to a picture of Duncan, something posted by Geoff. She couldn’t focus on the words; all she could see was the tattoos on his bare torso and chest. They were at a pool? She was the one planning the wedding, they should have invited her!
She paused, now that she thought about it, Bridgette did mention something about going to a friend's pool. But the moment Courtney found out that Duncan was going, she decided not to go.
She zoomed in on his happy trail. Thick black hair went down.. The ding on the elevator made her face heat up. Just what was she doing? She shut off her phone and put it in her purse. She stumbled out of the elevator. In her mind, she told herself it was because she was tipsy, not the fact that she had just been wishing she saw his dick.
The breeze hit her face before the heat of the night did. When she broke up with Duncan, she never thought that this would be where she was. Standing outside some building after the tenth failure of a date that year. She thought she would be engaged by now. She would be sporting a nice ring while she planned her own wedding. She was damn near 34, and this was what she had to show in her love life?
She didn’t even want to think about her sex life. That just pissed her off even more. How hard was it to find the clit? How hard was it to listen to her?
Oh god, she realized as she walked down the steps, was Duncan going to be the best sex she’d ever had? That was sad. Not only was that sad, but it also pissed her off.
She fastened her pace towards her apartment. That’s what she got for agreeing to take his car to dinner and then to his condo. How long would it take her to get back to her place? She turned a corner when she noticed that the area looked vaguely familiar. Did she take a wrong turn? Whatever, she would find her way to the apartment complex eventually.
She couldn’t wait to get home and masturbate this frustration out. She wished that some hot guy would magically pop up on the shitty dating app that she was on. He’d be funny and know how to give head. Her tipsy and slightly horny mind could only focus on that part.
A little voice, that she thought she killed four years ago, came up: Why not just text Duncan?
Before she could even rebuke the thought, something on her shoe shifted, a snap feeling as her ankle went to the side. She blinked, and she was in a bush. She struggled to get up, jerking her body out. She almost fell again when she tried to stand back up.
She looked down, and the heel of her shoe had broken off. She was going to cry. She was going to cry right then and there. She saw the steps that went up to a small park. She hopped over to it, catching herself from falling twice.
Drunken and frustrated, tears started to spill out as she pulled out her phone. No one was around, so she could cry as much as she wanted.
“How’d the date go?” Gwen’s voice came out.
Courtney couldn’t help the soft sob that came out. “My shoe broke and I don’t know where I am.”
“What? Where are you? What’s the guy's name? I’ll kill him,” Gwen sounded more pissed than Courtney thought she should be.
She could hear a male voice muffled on the other end of the line. It made Gwen yell at them to shut up.
“I think I already killed his pride when I told him he sucked in bed,” Courtney told her, the palm of her hand going up to wipe her eyes. Another whine came out. “Now I messed up my makeup.”
Gwen let out a heavy sigh, “Damnit, Courtney, you can’t just start a sentence with crap like that. I thought you had gotten assaulted or something.”
“Sorry,” she said as she looked over her smeared mascara and eyeshadow on her hand. “Can you come get me?”
“Is that Courtney?” The voice wasn’t Gwen's; it was Duncan's.
She knew that she could have gone when Bridgette told her about it. Still, she couldn't help the jealous and petty teenage feelings that came up in her stomach. It wasn’t fair. It should be her enjoying a pool; Duncan should be the one with the worst date that month.
“Dude, back up,” Gwen let out a grunt, no doubt shoving Duncan away from her. “Honestly, I don’t know if I can. I came here with Duncan. Hold on,” there was a pause, and her voice was a bit away from the phone. “Give me your keys.”
“Fuck you, no way.”
Courtney leaned her forehead against her palm. Maybe she could get a cab?
“Never mind, I’ll just get a cab,” Courtney said, loud enough that Gwen could hear.
“No, just send me your location,” Gwen told her. “Duncan’s a wuss, I’ll be able to get the keys from him.”
It took Courtney a minute to send the location. She hoped Gwen wouldn’t say anything to Duncan. How pitiful would it be if he found out that she now went over the line from tipsy to slightly drunk? Would he laugh at her, or would he get that look in his eyes that he had before they started dating?
The type of look that showed he was observing her, concerned about what was going to happen. But that look was masked by layers of uncaring sarcasm that made her hate him. How difficult was it to show actual concern?
“Gwen, make sure that-,” there wasn’t noise from the other line. She pulled her phone away from her ear. It died.
Great. She couldn’t even distract herself from her thoughts. She cried more.
She hated the dating life in Toronto. She hated Duncan for wasting eight years of her life. She hated that there was even a notion that she might not be married by 35. She hated that her mother would breathe down her neck, letting her know that she could put her with someone. She hated that she was starting to think that it might be a good idea.
But most of all, she hated that she missed Duncan. With his stupid smirk. His stupid need to mess with her buttons. The way he made her laugh. The way he was the only guy that fought back against her controlling behavior, but still loved her for it.
Should she have broken up with him?
Those doubts surfaced randomly. When she was drunk. When she was alone. When she read romance novels. When she watched a romance movie. If she had held off, would he have proposed? Would he not be such a commitmentphobe? Maybe they would have been married by that point.
No, she put her head against her knees, letting the tears continue to spill. She couldn’t go down that road. That was more depressing than anything.
No. The more depressing part would be if, in a year, Duncan got a serious relationship and proposed. She’d be unmarried, probably single, because the universe couldn’t give her fucking win when it came to romance. It gave her everything already.
A car had stopped in front of the stairs. She didn’t look up, fearing that it wasn’t Gwen. What if it was someone she didn’t even know? She’d just look like a loser, crying on the steps. She was fine with that.
“Are you drunk?”
She knew that voice. It was Duncan.
“Gwen was supposed to come pick me up.” She refused to look up.
“Gwennifer is currently locked in a closet. There was no way I was going to let her drive my car,” he told her.
“She could have taken Geoff’s van.”
“Too bad, but you’re going to be dealing with me.” He sounded closer. She almost looked up but stopped. “I’ve seen you cry before, so I have no idea why you’re acting shy now.”
His hand went to her hair. She hated that she liked the way he straightened it out and away from her face. She felt him grab her ankle. He was taking off her broken heel. In its place was something soft and plush. She lifted her head to look. It was a princess slipper. Literally, purple with white letters spelling princess on each slipper.
Her eyes noticed that he was staring at her. She looked at him, and his eyes gave her that same observant look.
“Just say something. It pisses me off when you do that crap,” she told him.
He just huffed a laugh and went back to taking off her other heel. “Okay, glad you don’t have a black eye.”
“What could you possibly do if I had a black eye?” She asked, stretching her legs now that her feet could move without fear that her other heel might also break.
She got a good look at him. He still wore his swim trunks. No shirt. Did he just run out of the party like that?
“Beat up the guy that gave it to you,” he said, helping her stand up.
She couldn’t help the teasing nature that came out as she gave him a drunken smile. “What, because I’m still your princess?”
He gave her that grin of his, eyes soft as he stared at her. “Something like that.”
Butterflies hit her stomach. Butterflies that she thought had been dead for years. He didn’t seem to notice the blush that Courtney knew was on her cheeks. He helped her get in the car.
She missed his smell. She missed it so much that she thought her heart was going to burst. This whole thing wasn’t fair. Why did he get to come in acting like some jackass in shining armor? It should have been Gwen.
Then Courtney could talk about her crappy date. Talking loudly in the other room about her sexual escapades was one thing, but just saying it face to face with her ex was embarrassing. It was like admitting defeat in a way. Let him know how much of a failure her love life was? No thanks. He’d have some stupid smug satisfaction. They broke up because he couldn’t commit, and now look at her, so much for the final parting words.
“At least now I can be married by 35 with someone who doesn’t act like such a baby the moment I suggest we move in together!”
She started to cry again. Man, when did she become such a loser? This was not what was supposed to happen. She should be freaking married by now!
“Stop it with the drunk crying, jeez,” Duncan said.
When did he get in the car? She looked at him as he put the car in drive. He sat there calmly. Fuck that. Fuck all of that!
“This is all your fault!” She yelled. She drunkenly hit his arm, but her punch wasn’t strong enough to do damage.
He didn’t do anything, and that pissed her off more. He got to provoke her and laugh? He didn’t get to act like the grown-up this time! Not when he spent years not mature enough to have a serious couple relationship conversation.
She hit him again. And again and again until he finally turned into a parking lot of an old gas station.
“Would you,” he took a hand off the wheel and grabbed her fist. “Would you just stop it!”
“No, I will not! You wasted my twenties! You know how shitty it is to date in your thirties? Everyone fucking sucks! Guys you think are funny turn out to be obnoxious! Guys who are serious make the worst conversationalists! And the hot guys aren’t even good at sex!” She jerked her hand away from him, breathing heavy as she glared at him. “And I wanted to go to the pool!”
He dared to stare at her like she was crazy?
“I’m going to walk home.” She told him, fighting the seatbelt to try and get out.
He quickly reached over and kept her seat buckle in place. “Courtney, calm down.”
“No! I want to be pissed!”
“Fine, be pissed, but don’t be fucking stupid,” he told her. He pulled his hand away and ran it through his hair. It was still wet from the pool. “You’re too tipsy to get home by yourself, so just.. Just stay and be pissed here.”
“You didn’t have to come here shirtless. You could have put on a shirt. You look like a jackass.” She said, sniffling as she wiped away tears.
“Are you drunk enough for me to be honest? I’d rather you not remember me being vulnerable.”
She didn’t say anything. She hoped she wasn’t drunk enough. If Duncan could see her crying, she should be able to see him be honest.
“This isn’t a thing where you say something perverted, because if it is, I’m going to punch you again.”
He laughed. It sounded nice.
“Got worried. You’ve been dating all of Toronto, it was only a matter of time before you met someone that sucked more than me,” he told her. A sleazy grin came to him. “Plus, seeing you pathetic makes me happy.”
“Then you must be feeling ecstatic right now,” she grumbled. Her feet came out of the slippers as she moved to hug her knees to her chest. She stared at her feet, she even got a matching shade of paint on her toenails that sparkled just like her dress. She couldn’t see herself going through this type of date again. “Maybe I could be celibate. Nuns can do it without issue.”
That made him cackle. He laughed for longer than he needed to, making her glare. That was supposed to be her secret thoughts, but her mouth was being very honest right now. She should just not say anything.
“What’s so funny?” She demanded, going against what she had just decided.
“I just,” he laughed again, trying to regain composure. “Don’t become celibate, that would be depressing.”
“Wouldn’t you be happy? Bridgette made me stop talking about my sex life because it pissed you off so bad.”
“Yeah, but now I know that you’re a big fat liar, so,” he gave her that look as if he had just figured her out. He spoke over her, “Don’t even deny it. No one has that type of breakdown if they’re getting fucked on the daily.”
Courtney didn’t know what to say. She wished she had never gotten in the car. She wished her date didn’t suck so badly that she had to talk to Duncan. He sat there, happy that she wasn’t getting any. Probably felt all smug because he could slut it up without issue.
“I hate you,” was all she could mumble out as she pressed her forehead against the window. Man, she hoped that she could throw up. Then he’d have to deal with it.
“You know,” she heard the flick of his lighter. Dumbass probably needed something to distract him from having an actual conversation with her. “I could make you fall in love with me again. I mean, you hated my guts in middle school. Tolerated me in high school. It wasn’t until you came back from University that you fell in love with me. That was..” He was silent for a second. “11 years. So I just have to wait until our 40s. Late 30s if you're desperate enough.”
She turned to him. He stared at her in such a way that it made her heart squeeze. She missed that look. The look of him being in love with her.
“You’d wait that long?”
“You might not know this, but I waited seven years to kiss you. And knowing how you taste is reason enough to wait.” He grinned at her.
“I told you not to say something perverted.”
He looked away, blowing the smoke out the car window. He didn’t look at her as he mumbled. “And ‘cause I like hanging out with you and shit.”
She unbuckled and moved her body over the console. Both hands on his right thigh as she tried to get a better look at him. That made him look at her. She forgot how handsome he was when he didn’t look like a jackass.
“If you’re going to pursue me, you have to say stuff like that loud and clear.” She told him, one hand coming up from his thigh to touch his cheek. She smiled. She couldn’t believe she missed the scruff on him. “You’re an adult, so I know you know how to use your words.”
“I love you, let’s date.”
She didn’t stop smiling; her thumb went up to mess with his lips. “You just said you’d wait 10 years for me.”
“I just realized that waiting a decade to date you would suck. So, for the hell of it, let’s just date now.”
“What if I want you to move in?” She asked as he put a hand on her neck.
“That’s fine, but you’ll have to deal with the cigarette smoke.”
“I’m dating for marriage.” She moved her face closer to his. She wanted to kiss him.
“It’ll be fun to steal an engagement ring.” He didn’t wait and kissed her.
“I want kids.” She said, about to pull away, the position was starting to make her arms tired.
Duncan kept her in place with his hand on her neck. “I took Geoff’s best dad mug, so I’m halfway there.”
She put her forehead against his and let out a sigh.
“Don’t tell me you steal things.”
“Don’t worry, if we’re married, you won’t be able to testify against me.” He told her before he pulled her close to him again.
He kissed her, and for the first time in three years, she felt excitement. Her heartbeat was loud and happy against her ribcage.