Dinner and Mosche

With your big conversation out of the way, the three of you started thinking about what you were going to do for dinner. After three long days at the courthouse, you didn’t necessarily want to order in, but you were also keenly aware that the supplies in the apartment were starting to run low. In the end, the three of you decided to head out and do some groceries. The girls both went and changed into something slightly more presentable and then you headed out and walked a couple of blocks over to a grocery store that would still be open.

Doing something so much more normal than what a lot of your life had been even in the last few days was a major boon to your own morale. Not that you’d been down, but you hadn’t realised how much pressure you were carrying in your shoulders. Getting to just walk the aisles with both Sabrina and Gemma was wonderfully relaxing as you talked and joked. You ended up buying a little more than planned since you found a few things that Gemma hadn’t tried but had been part of your or Sabrina’s childhoods. Multiple cereal boxes were included in that list.

Sabrina paid, not letting you even utter a whisper of a complaint with her look, and then the three of you walked back to the apartment each carrying a big brown bag of food. When you arrived back home you went to open the door and it stopped about six inches open, wedged on a shoe.

“God damn it,” you grunted, setting down your bag and reaching in to move the shoe. It was Mosche’s, so he was obviously home. You tossed the shoe aside and got the door open fully. “Hey,” you called. “I’m home, the girls are here.”

You were half-finished unpacking the food when Mosche wandered out from his room. “Hey,” he said. “Are you guys interested in coming to my open mic night tonight?”

“Um, I’m not sure,” you said, glancing at the girls. “We were planning on making dinner and then probably crashing. We’ve had a long week already.”

“Oh, alright,” Mosche said with a sigh.

“Something wrong?” Sabrina asked.

“Kind of,” Mosche said. “Things are awkward down at the club now.”

“You mean because you’re avoiding Tasha, or because some of the guys there had sex with her?” Gemma asked bluntly.

Mosche flushed with embarrassment. “Um, yeah,” he mumbled. “Both I guess.”

“How come you haven’t talked to her, Mosche?” Sabrina asked. “Are you breaking up with her? Or going to tell her the truth about talking to someone else?”

“I don’t know,” Mosche said, retreating back a bit towards his room. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“You do realise that the longer you wait, the worse it gets, right?” you suggested gently. Based on both Gemma and Sabrina’s personalities, you knew there was no way they weren’t going to go at him a bit here and you didn’t want to pile on too much even if he deserved it. Giving him an out was the best you could do under the circumstances.

Mosche screwed up his face a little like a kid who was caught in his own lies… or just a logical puzzle. Either way, he was stuck.

“Have you seen that other girl?” Gemma asked.

“No,” Mosche said, but his tone was telling.

“But you’ve been texting with her,” Sabrina guessed, and Mosche nodded. “And playing video games?” Mosche hesitated but nodded again.

“Have you talked to her about Tasha?” Gemma asked bluntly.

“No,” Mosche said. “Even I know that’s a bad idea.”

“Cool,” Gemma said. “So you’re a Cheater. I really hoped that wasn’t the kind of person you were, Mosche, but I guess I was wrong.”

“I’m not a cheater,” Mosche said, getting defensive. “I haven’t kissed her or slept with her or anything. We haven’t even gone on a date.”

“How many hours have you spent talking or playing games with her this week, and how many hours with Tasha?” Sabrina asked. “Or, better yet, how many texts have you sent her and Tasha?”

“I need to go,” Mosche mumbled, turning and heading for his room.

“You’re being a dirtbag, Mosche,” Gemma called after him. “I know what it’s like to be cheated on, Mosche. Tasha deserves better, and you deserve to feel guilty until you make it right.”

Mosche’s door shut loudly.

“I know why you said it, love, but that last one might have been a little hard even if it was right,” you said.

“He’s being a coward,” Gemma grunted.

The three of you got the food put away, and sometime while you were cooking dinner Mosche slunk his way past and out the door. You only realised he was leaving when the front door of the apartment shut heavily.

The three of you sat down to eat, but the conversation revolved around Tasha and Mosche and mostly went in circles until you were finally done eating and you took the plates to the kitchen. When you came back, your girlfriends were still talking about when would be best to talk to Tasha.

“Why don’t you just go see her now?” you suggested. “Not that I wouldn’t rather spend the evening with both of you in an empty apartment, but you’re clearly set on this happening and she’s been through more than enough.”

“You’d be OK with us abandoning you, baby?” Sabrina asked.

You chuckled. “You’re not abandoning me, you’re going to help someone else.” Then you grinned. “Plus, I can always just spend the night jerking off to porn.”

Both Gemma and Sabrina were offended at the implication that they wouldn’t be the source of your orgasms, and you had to fend them off as you were all laughing. “OK, OK,” you said. “I’ll spend the night working on the mock trial? I promise not to jerk off.”

“Good,” Gemma grinned. “Because those loads belong to us, love.”

“They also belong on us. And in us,” Sabrina said, scrunching up her nose playfully.

The girls ended up texting Tasha to make sure she was home and not out, and then left together after some goodnight kisses with you, promising to text you when they got home safe. Then you were alone in the apartment, and all you had to occupy your time with was either porn or work.

For some reason, you had a feeling they would know if you jerked off, so you got to work on the Mock Trial documents.

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