Cheaters = Losers

When I made my way downstairs the next morning at a respectable 10am I found myself greeted by the back of a head of messy dark hair and a pair of shoulders stretching a t-shirt in a way that was so attractive it should be illegal.
"Moooorning," I let the word slide lazily off my tongue, but apart from looking up for a fraction of a second and grunting a noise at me, Billie Joe made very little in the form of response. As I made my way in search of some form of food for myself I noticed that Billie had the cutest look of concentration on his face, glasses perched on the wrinkles on his nose from where his brow was furrowed and he was furiously scribbling on a scrap of paper. I found myself some cereal a lot quicker than the day before and seated myself opposite him.
"Whatcha doin'?" I asked, dragging my words playfully.
"Idea," he mumbled, hand barely pausing. When he offered no form of further response I decided to leave him alone and busy myself. There was a lot of things that I could have done. I could have gone out and seen Jimmy, or I could have been productive and get my bearings in the city, or I could have been really proactive and gotten myself a job. I ended up just pulling on an oversized hoodie and curling up in front of the TV.

It felt like Billie wasn't in the house, and it wasn't until I'd finished Four Weddings And A Funeral and was half way through Notting Hill that he surfaced, eyes shining and beaming like a Cheshire Cat. He padded over silently and pounced, tackling me into a hug and wrestling me down onto the settee. I could hear his chuckles and it wasn't long before my laughter joined in at the stupidity of whatever was going on in his head as he pinned me down with ease.
"What?" I managed to ask once we had stilled, my fingers twisting lazily in loose strands of hair by his temple.
"That idea," he just couldn't stop smiling. "It was only a few lines, y'know? Maybe a beat. I thought of it last night, I was up most of it writing, but, y'know, I think I'm onto something here! I really do, Lils, I think I've got our next album. I've gotta go to the studio! I've gotta call Mike and Tré!" And he dashed off into his room, leaving me blinking and putting on Bridget Jones' Diary as a Billie-shaped hurricane tore through the house.

Billie wasn't very present over the next few months. He spent nearly all of his time at the studio with Mike and Tré and producers and whatnot. I was expecting to have a lot of downtime, but I very quickly learnt that downtime was not an option when Jimmy decided to basically move herself in. Every time I woke up she would be in the house and I'd be sleeping before she left if she left at all. It was a good time, though. We watched a silly amount of classic British movies, Jimmy seemed very taken with The Full Monty because every other word was "fuck". Unfortunately, Jimmy was one of those organised assholes and did, in fact, have a job, so I was alone a lot during the daytime, which prompted me to get out of the house after a few weeks of watching the same reruns of three programmes. You know it's bad when you can rattle off a whole episode of Judge Judy word for word and know the schedule for ABC and TruTV by heart. I spent a lot of time in the pool, or lounging by it trying to tan my vampire skin to match the others at least a little while blasting Green Day very loudly into the neighbourhood. When Jimmy came over lazy afternoons in the pool turned into late nights drinking in the jacuzzi, not that I minded at all. We went out to bars quite regularly too, although never to get smashed. Jimmy had a game where she would let the smarmy, rapist douchbags to hit on her and then coldly cut them out by casually mentioning that her boyfriend was in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and she had three personal bodyguards. It was pretty hilarious to watch their faces drop as they couldn't get away fast enough. We also spent a lot of time shopping around, Jimmy had a bit of a thing for fashion and she was determined to properly bulk out my wardrobe and get me some more personal decorations for my room. I tended to just go along with whatever she wanted to do, because whatever we were doing with Jimmy it was always a laugh.

I got my bearings within a few days of taking myself out and like in LA, everything I needed was within walking distance. I had secured myself a part-time job at a small coffee shop five minutes from Billie's house, but I was still spending most of my day free and alone. Jimmy had suggested that I put my English degree to good use and so the sketchy outlines of a novel were beginning to appear on my laptop. When Billie was around he was different, he was still affectionate with me, but he seemed distant as if he was in another world and his body was simply passing through this one. I'd asked Jimmy about it, but all I got out of her was that Tré's just more hyper than ever when they're recording (and very affectionate) and "It's a Billie thing, don't sweat it,"

After three or four months Billie came home one day around 1am and found me watching the third season of The Middle for the second time in the den. He announced that they had the majority of an album written and recorded. With that, he plonked himself beside me and promptly fell asleep.

The next morning, I woke up (still on the settee) to the smell of food, and so assumed that Jimmy had yet again invaded and decided to 'treat' me to more of her atrocious cooking (it was a miracle she and Tré survived). Grinning to myself at the thought of another day causing mayhem with my new best friend I made my way downstairs to receive a bit of a shock. There, stood in the middle of the kitchen, wearing a frilly apron and swaying around as he sang badly to Elvis with flour in his hair was Billie Joe Armstrong. He twirled around and saw me, darting over and sweeping me up in his arms.
"Hi there," I laughed when he put me down.
"Good morning, Sunshine," he grinned crookedly at me and wiped a smudge of flour on my nose, guiding me into one of the two bar stools. He then continued prancing around as he served me with a crystal glass of champagne and orange juice and returned to the stove where he was busy at something. I took a sip of the champagne, and Jesus Christ it was the really good, expensive kind.
"Smells good, Bill, whatcha doing?" I cocked my head to the side, but was only greeted with a knowing smile and ten minutes later a plate of pancakes with strawberries and whipped cream. "Oh my god, Billie, you didn't have to," I said quietly, awed at the sweet gesture.
"No, but I want to," his smile and the adorable flour puffs in his hair made my heart melt. I found myself grinning in thanks as I touched my glass to his and we drank. We ate mainly in silence, making the occasional comment and not much more. Once we'd finished, Billie piled the plates up in the sink and turned to me.
"Well, I can safely say you are a far better chef than dearest Jimmy," I commented once we'd both finished, to which Billie just laughed, but agreed.

"I want to do something today," he stated, hazel green eyes trained intently on me.
"What about a movie marathon?" I suggested, feeling incredibly lazy.
"No, not like that. That's all you've done for like a month! And I mean, like, y'know, something," I shrugged at him.
"Whatever you do, I'm happy." Billie closed his eyes in mock frustration.
"Lily, you're not getting this are you? I want to do something with you, something important and something special that you'll enjoy, and not just because I'm there, but because, y'know, you want to. So what do you want to do?" He asked me. I could feel a panic setting in. Clearly, Billie was hinting at going outside together. Outside meant people, and with Billie, people meant press, more so than with Josh.
"You mean, like, outside. Where people can see you and me?" I managed to stutter
"Yes, Lils, in bright, broad daylight. Today."
"And you're okay with people seeing you with me?"
"Yes. So will you please pick something to do?"
"I don't know!" I whined and Billie barked a laugh, making a comment about how useless I was. Something triggered in my head, a similar comment that Jimmy had made, surprise, surprise, and I remembered something I'd (she'd) bought at the mall. "What's your beach like?" The second the words left my lips Billie's eyes lit up as if I'd said Christmas.
"Get your swimming gear, girly, we're going to the beach!" He sang as he danced off, racing me up the stairs.
I won.

I may have shoved him a little, but that's beside the point.

I quickly rooted through my wardrobe and dug out the black bikini Jimmy had bought me. I shot her a quick text thanking her, to which I got something filthy and typically Jimmy back in reply. I ended up pulling a simple white sundress over the top with some sandals. In a bag, I threw in a towel and spare underwear and clothes. I popped in a pair of contacts and threw on my sunglasses, letting my hair sit roughly around my face before making my way back downstairs where Billie was hollering for me to hurry up.
"I am!" I shouted at him playfully.
"Girls are just so slow!" He pretended to be angry at me.
"I was fast!" I protested as he piled me into the car, shaking his head with a smile at my antics.

I didn't think it was really worth taking the car, saying as we literally drove down the road, but Billie insisted it was necessary and so I sat through the pointless drive that wasn't even long enough to to listen to a decent song. We pulled up on the seafront and Billie helped me out into bright sunshine and hot weather - a rare treat back home in England. He handed me a beach mat and escorted me to a small cove that was far quieter than the main beach and seemed to catch the sun even better as well. He told me to relax there and he'd be back soon, before dashing off.

I rolled out my mat and pulled my dress over my head, before kicking off my sandals and collapsing down to tan. Billie was gone a while, I wasn't really sure how long because I was drifting in and out of consciousness. He only alerted me of his presence when his body flopped down beside me and suddenly green eyes were boring into my own.
"Hi," he sent me a flashing smile
"Hey," I murmured back.
"So, what do you want to do first?"
"First?"
"Yeah. I told you I'm making this special," Billie went quiet for a minute. We had both flicked our sunglasses back on, allowing me to get a good look at him whilst he chewed his lip in decision. Billie was wearing nothing but a pair of long board shorts, leaving his torso on full display. Maybe it was because he was back playing regularly, but his already perfect body looked fitter, his abdominals slightly more defined as well as his arms. His tattoos flashed and caught the golden sunlight, bringing them to life in all their colourful glory. He turned back to me with a wolfish grin,

"I hope you're in your swimwear," He smirked, sending a little flame of nerves straight to my stomach.
"Why?" I asked him tentatively. He stood up silently and walked to just behind me. I arched my back and tilted my head backwards to see and gasped a little at what I saw. Billie was stood, two surfboards were propped up either side of him. At his feet was a picnic blanket and a wicker basket. The fledging surfboards made it look like sitting on the blanket was a throne. This was beyond anything I had imagined, and I didn't hesitate to tell Billie so, to which he mumbled something blushy in return. He pulled a board out of the sand, it looked pretty awesome, black with a pink spray-paint style rabbit and a red heart with a cross going through it decorating the thing. Of course, I thought, Awesome As Fuck and St Jimmy. He pointed towards the other board, which wasn't as personal, not that I cared: I was going surfing! In my enthusiasm I kind of forgot about Billie, pulling off my sunglasses and throwing them on my mat before almost ripping off my dress in one rapid movement, discarding it carelessly.

I only remembered when I looked up to see Billie gawking at me, mouth hanging slightly open, eyes shamelessly roaming my almost naked body.
"Didn't your mother ever tell you it's rude to stare?" I asked sassily and grabbed my board, before sprinting to the water.
"My mother never told me girls are as hot as you!" He yelled after me in response.

The surfing was awesome, Billie was beyond better than me, him being a Californian and myself being a Londoner who went on a few summer surf schools. After a good two hours if not more of wiping out, we were exhausted and after riding the last few good waves all the way back to the beach, we made our way back to the empty cove. I immediately dropped my board and flopped down on my mat, probably looking like a beached seal as I lay there, body glistening in sweat and water. Billie crashed next to me and in a companionable silence I drifted off to sleep.

A faint tickling sensation at my sides about an hour later woke me up. I opened one eye to see my favourite face smiling down at me, hair clumped and curled with salt water, green eyes shining. Billie's fingers ran up and down my sides again, sending a myriad of sensations running through me.
"Any particular reason why you felt the need to wake me up?" I asked groggily, running my hands softly up his arms that were holding his weight at either side of my head.
"You've been asleep for an hour, I'm hungry and I don't want to be known as the guy who did the lobster," I ignored his comment about me being a lobster and agreed with him about food.

Lunch was pretty damn fab, a classic English picnic, something I'd not had since I was a child, and Billie seemed to take extreme joy in the fact that when he opened the old fashioned wicker basket I genuinely squealed. He carefully laid out the China plates and beautiful food; cucumber sandwiches, quiche, pork pies, jam tarts, strawberries, champagne and lashings of ginger beer. Once again my arms were around Billie's neck in delight, before launching myself into the food with gusto, Billie following my actions with a gentle chuckle.

After eating, talking, sleeping, reading and building sandcastles, Billie and I had spent almost the whole day at the beach, and there wasn't a bit of me that wanted to go home.
"Let's go for a swim," Billie's voice floated from somewhere by my side. I was laid on my front with a book and Billie was dozing beside me.
"Okay," I responded, putting my book down carefully before getting up an stretching. Billie rolled over and forced himself up, before tagging me and sprinting off. "Hey!" I shouted at the fast shrinking figure.
"Race ya to the water!" I barely heard his reply, before taking off at full speed. I used to run, back at home, and there was something about feeling the sand being turfed up beneath my feet, feeling the wind in my face and the adrenalin coursing through my system that reminded me of how much I loved it. I easily increased my speed to a point where I felt like I was flying, and before I knew it I was streaking past Billie and into the water.

Three seconds later a second body crashed into the waves and I began to wade away, shrieking with laughter. While I may have been faster on ground, Billie was clearly a stronger swimmer and in nanoseconds strong arms caught my waist and lifted me up, causing my screams to become even louder, especially when I felt the cold sting of salt water as I was dropped into it. Gasping falsely I resurfaced, but remained flailing in the water until a concerned Billie leaned down to see if I was okay. I weakly wrapped my arms around his neck for support, before looking straight into his eyes,
"Idiot," I smirked and let my weight drop, dragging Billie under with me.

We struggled for a second before surfacing giggling and gasping for breath. In mock annoyance a wave of water was sent crashing over my head.
"Assault!" I yelled and sent my own wave straight back, splashing his face. We played in the water, sending waves back and fourth at each other like eight year olds until I realised that we were, in fact, very close to each other. Before I could really coordinate what was happening Billie's arms were encircling my hips and his lips were planted heavily on mine.

It didn't really start out gentle, but very quickly I felt his tongue dart across my lips and my mouth was open. We pulled apart for a second, more for the purpose of re-oxygenating than anything else. Dripping wet Billie was hot as fuck, his dark hair was damply curled and hanging in his beautiful eyes, the water was rolling off of his body in droplets that when the sun caught them illuminated him in diamonds. The water that sat around our waists was far warmer than the rest of the sea. It was as if Billie was radiating his own heat. He was so beautiful, everything was so perfect that I never wanted to leave. I caught his eyes roaming over my own body and before I knew it we were making out again, Billie's lips suddenly at my ear.
"How about we take this home?"

Okay so maybe there was a tiny part of me that wanted to go home.