"Carter," A sultry voice called out from the shadowy confines of the bedroom at the end of the hall. "come back to bed. The sheets are so much colder without your body pressed against mine." 

"Maybe in a bit, babe." 

How about... 

Not.

Carter had been able to overlook it while the two participated in a frisky tumble in the hay, but now that they weren't shamelessly fúcking he couldn't overlook the fact tat the once sultry sounding voice sounded more like a decade-long smoker imitating Morgan Freeman than sexy. And because of that, Carter felt no pull to return to the slender, leggy brunette hogging his mattress.

"Caaarter." Oh great, now she was whining. "For Christ's sake, give me a minute." He grumbled irritably, slinking exhaustively into his guest bathroom to straighten up, so that he wouldn't look like hell (with a handsome torso) when he dealt with the clingy female.

Dark brown hair twirled with light, curlier strands in a messy, evening romp, quiff. Sterling grey eyes glared back at Carter in blatant disapproval for allowing his late night escaped to hang around past sunrise. Jackson would be 'round pretty soon for their morning jog and coffee and he most definitely did not want Miss Morgan Freeman impersonator to still be hanging around when he came.
Carter Wenshall was not in the mood to sit through one of his best friend's lengthy spiels of how it wasn't healthy to "screw every decent looking woman with a nice rack and áss", nor was it morally okay that the only way he got the many females, from past escapades, into his bed was by lying to them.

But who was Mr (I believe in waiting for the right girl and not having to pretend to be something I am not to steal her heart) Steal to talk when he was a 21 year old, unpicked cherry?

"Carter, where did you go?" The whining voice was back, and that was the moment Carter knew he couldn't push it off any longer. It was time to ditch miss needy and have Casey wash his sheets again. Carter never mentioned it openly, but although Jackson Steal was his best friend, Casey was his go-to-friend when he needed a shoulder to lean on or a confidant.

"Oh, finally," 

Miss Freeman— Wait, what was her name, actually? Wasn't it like Vaness— Or like... Vivian? Vanity? No that's not— Oh who cares?

Carter mentally shook of the thought when he found that he could not remember and did not care. "I'm so glad you're back, baby. I was worried you'd been swallowed by the toilet, or something." Cue mental eye roll here. "Is it really your place to be worried about where I wander off to in my apartment?" Miss Freeman was taken aback by Carter's brash attitude, and scrambled over her tongue to reply as he sipped lightly from his cup of coffee he'd made before returning to the inconveniently (still) occupied master bedroom.

"W- well. I- I just thought— "You thought what?" Carter asked bluntly; and a little irritably. "That'd I'd be like some cliche book character and after having some kind of "Mind-blowing and Life-changing" séx, that'd I'd change my mind and instead of allowing you to become another one-night-stand, I'd confess my undying love to you?"

The brunette sat stalk still in his bed, her mouth gaping wide in shock. "I- I..."

"God," He laughed humorously. "Grow up, will you?"

That seemed to be the cue for Miss Brunette to take initiative against this verbal abuse and gain her voice back. "W-wow... I should have known." She laughed shakily, shamelessly stepping out of the covers and gathering her clothes; not caring less if Carter was checking out her nude figure or not. "They all said you were an asshole, but I thought just maybe... "Hey, maybe what everyone's saying is a little far-fetched" He couldn't be that bad." The sentence was spat with oozing venom towards the infuriating male as she snatched up her bra.

"Well, maybe you should have listened and heeded their warnings, Vanessa. I'm not going to change for someone who's so easy that they took their underwear off in a club after a little make-out sesh."

"The name's Valerie you jackáss. And I must say, you're reputation precedes you 120%, Carter Wenshall."  "Good, maybe that means the others won't get ideas and fina-fúcking-lly figure out that I'm not in the moody for sappy romance. I just want one emotions-free sexual encounter. Is that so hard for the female species to comply with?"

"You're a complete díck, Carter. Why in the hell did I sleep with you?" She snarled hastily putting on her undergarments, so that she could get away from the bastard as quickly as possible. "I don't know, you tell me—" 

A light knock sounded from the apartment door and Vanessa froze like a deer in headlights. "Ooh a visitor." Carter crooned in mock excitement, to scare the young woman further at the thought of potential embarrassment, that was plain to see in the features of her face. "I'm going to go answer the door, and you should take this time to get dressed, Vanity." Vivian said nothing as she shoved her legs fully through her skimpy thong and began working on squeezing herself into her dress.

Carter smirked and strolled towards the door, flinging it open intimidatingly. "What do you want—" "Now do you really want to talk to the person who cleans your house and does your laundry like that? Not to mention, she does it for free." Casey sassily replied, efficiently cutting her man-whore of a friend off.

"Hey Case, it's 12 already?" "Indeed it is."

Casey  Sherwood was 18, 2 years younger than her 20 year old pal Carter. Her eyes were wide and bright hazel, she gazed upon the world as if there was never enough things in the world for her to take in. Which was partially true because Casey was color-blind and had been diagnosed with Tritanomaly when she was 5. Casey had never seen the world in it's true colored wonder. Instead only seeing it in Reds, Blacks, Greys, Blues, and Browns. Her mother had bought her Enchroma glasses when she was 16, but Casey refused, saying she liked her world the way it was.

Her hair was a deep, dark, auburn. People almost always confused the color for black until they saw it shine in the light. She was short in comparison to Carter's height at 5'5, although he was only 5'11. He had 6 inches on her and never let her forget it.

The two had met at the laundry mat two years ago after Jackson's had finally gotten tired of washing his friends clothes, and decided to dump them and Carter their so he could was his own stuff. Carter, being the clueless and helpless college boy he was, overfilled every last one of his washes with too clothes and liquid detergent. Casey, who had finally gotten tired of watching the employees being forced to clean up Carter's mess, stormed over and fixed and washed each one of his loads before giving him her number just in case he ever decided to make the foolish mistake of returning alone.

They'd been good friends ever since, and Casey had taken it upon herself last year to teach Carter how to properly wash clothes.

"You  better have your basket already loaded, or I'm not doing it and you have to wait until the next 2 weeks pass." Carter rolled his eyes, unconcerned, and stretched his taut muscles, alerting his friend to the fact that he was not wearing a shirt. Casey stared pointedly at his chest, making no signs of looking away. A smirk graced Carter's as he did a not so subtle cough, and Casey's cheeks flamed as she quickly ceased her gawking.

"Checking me out already, Case? It's not even 1:30 yet." "I was not checking you out, you jerk!" She exclaimed slapping his arm in outrage. "Sure you weren't—" Carter stopped his retort short as Velma scurried by with her dress haphazardly put on; the hem of her dress up above her bottom in the rear. Casey watched as the woman ran out looking flustered and turned to her friend disapprovingly. "Carter Julian Robin Wenshall!" 

"What?" He tried to put on his best innocent face to avoid Casey's rage, but failed miserably.

"Another one?"

"Maybe?"

Casey shook her head scolding, marching into his apartment as if it her own, and plopping down on his couch gesturing for him to join her. Carter sat down next to her and prepared himself for the rant (that was surely to come) as she took a deep intake of breath.

"I cannot believe how disappointed I am of you right now." 

Silence.

Wait, was that it?

"Yes, that is it. I'm done wasting lectures on a grown man who is obviously not listening to a word I'm saying." "Huh?" "Carter!" Carter fended of Casey's abusive hands with a laugh. "I'm just kidding, Case!"

"Look, I'm sorry." He apologized ruffling her hair. "But this is just the way I am." "I know."

The two leaned back onto the couch in sync letting out tired sighs. 

Soon enough, the companionable silence between the was broken as Casey let out a loud groan. "What?"

"I swear, you'd think you'd learn after the whole STD scare..." "But I didn't have an STD. It was just as rash." Carter stated like a proud child telling his mom that he hadn't gotten poison ivy from running through the bushes, but just a spider bite.

"You are nothing but a sexually attractive dork." Carter opened his mouth to make an equally sexual comment about his attractiveness, but Casey quickly cut him off. "No— Wait... You're just like the CDC!" "What why?" Carter furrowed his eyebrows in confusion at her excited expression.

"Because, you have to go and try and catch all the diseases."

"I do not." He shouted indignantly.

"You do so. I swear, it's like a game to you to try and she how many girls you can fuck before getting some kind of fatal, sexually transmitted disease -because you're obviously too much of a player to stop for anything that's not fatal."

Oh, it was certain that these two were friends.

"Anyways, besides to clean your clothes as part of our deal," Carter sighed at her expectant gaze, pulling a twenty from his boxers and placing it in her small palm. "I came to give you your mail. Since the mail girl feels the need to purposely put your mail in my box so that she doesn't have to go your door after you had your fun with her and ditched her like an "accidentally" broken toy in a Walmart Bathroom."

Carter ignored her blatant jab at him and opened the envelope to read the letter inside.

"What's it say?"

"Some bullcrap about a competition and winning 1.2 million from SSIC." He tossed the paper and it's envelope to the side, but Casey quickly snatched it up as he flicked on the television.

"Bullcrap!? Are you freaking kidding me!?" 

"No?"

Casey grabbed Carter's arm and she shoved the paper in his face and pointing to a circle at the right corner of the page. "SSIC is one of the leading companies in Seattle! Look! This was written by Lyle Massacrade's personal assistant, and even has his seal of approval!"

Casey was shaking with joy. Carter, on the other hand, looked as if he couldn't give any less shits than he already did.

"You have GOT to do this! It's a great opportunity— I mean, you could win 1.2 million buckaroonies, babe!"

By this point Carter had broken down into a fit of laughter. "Buckaroonies? Who even says shit like that?" Casey pouted as he continued to make fun of her. "I do. I say buckaroonies."

"Okay, I just might do this, because I'd be a dumbáss to pass up a chance of 1.2 million. But are you sure that you don't just want me to do this because you've had a longtime crush on Lyle Massacrade, and because the letter says I can bring a guest if I'd like to, and you want to come along so you can envision the CEO of SSIC in his birthday suit doing naughty things to you?"

Casey's face inflamed like a grease fire as Carter broke into another fit of hyena laughter, and she pushed him the couch; huffing in embarrassment as he continued to laugh.

"Shut up you ásshole..."