(no subject)
Title: --untitled at present--
Rating: R for language
Word Count: around 700...it won't take that much of your time
Disclaimer: I don't think I've bothered with these lately, but yeah, not mine, whatever.
Summary: Him, her, and a karaoke bar frequented by local university kids. IDK
He had managed to spot her from the moment she walked in, which is no small feat considering how packed this place was. She settles in between two sweaty college kids, leans on the wall, crosses her arms and stares back at him. She doesn't need to try for unimpressed. He grins.
He finishes his song to racous cheering, and only takes his eyes off hers for a moment to replace the mic on the stand. He walks over to her, never breaking eye contact...and just waits.
"Hey," she says, a bit thrown off by how intense he looks, but he ignores her greeting.
"Can you buy me a drink?" he asks. "Because I'm going to need something to blame this on," he says, leaning over and kissing her, swallowing whatever smartass response she was about to dish out. He doesn't touch her, putting one hand above her against the wall, and his other...who the hell knows, maybe in his pocket or something. What she does know is that he's really fucking good at this, and she doesn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing she thinks so.
So she doesn't pull him against her (even though she wants to), and she lets him take the lead (to give the impression this was merely tolerable), and she absolutely does not sigh, or moan, or any of that shit when he draws her bottom lip between his and runs the tip of his tongue lightly along it. He pulls back after a couple seconds to look at her, trying to read her expression while she's doing the same.
"You got your order wrong," she finally says, when she realizes he's perfectly content to wait her out. She takes a half step towards the bar. "A beer over here?" she calls. "Whatever you have in a bottle, I don't care."
"Who's keeping track?" he asks.
She hands him the beer. "Drink," she orders. He looks at her strangely (maybe her tone was too harsh), and does as he's told. She stares at the muscles in his neck as he downs the beer. "Good?" she asks, motioning to the bottle.
He nods.
She takes the beer from him and polishes off the remaining dregs. "Good," she repeats, and loops one arm around his neck to pull him towards her. "For the record, you're an asshole," she says, before kissing him hard and desperate, giving in to everything she had wanted to do the first time, pushing herself shamelessly up against him. She gives herself 5 seconds before pulling away abruptly. "That's how you do it," she says. "Drink, then kiss." She's more than a little gratified to see that he looks like he's about to faint from shock. He has one hand in her hair, and the other on her back, fingertips touching her bare skin from where her shirt was riding up. He's staring at her with an expression of mild awe. She feels a little dizzy herself.
"And here I thought I had flamed out in the most spectacular fashion," he says.
She kisses him again, even more aggressively this time, backing him into sitting in the chair behind him so she can straddle him. "What, you didn't think I liked you?" she asks.
He runs his hand under the back of her shirt, slowly up her spine, comfortably smug. "No, I knew. What I didn't know was whether you'd hold it against me over for acting on it."
"And here I was feeling bad for trying to play it off."
"Don't. You're a terrible actor." he says, lips against her neck. "I think I'm going to need another drink."
"Shit, what now?"
"I am so fucking in love with you. I know, I'm sorry. I fucked up the order again."
She groaned. "Really?" she asks, unimpressed.
He doesn't seem particularly concerned with her reaction. "What, too soon?"
"You think? I don't have enough alcohol in my system to deal with that. I'm not sure there's enough alcohol in this establishment for me to deal with that."
"What did I say about bad acting?"
She looks at him in disbelief for a moment, then sighs. "All right, whatever. I am ok with what you said. And maybe I like it a little."
He raises his eyebrows at her.
"Fine. I fucking love you too."
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*if you're curious, those "other things I never write" are outright declarations of love.