fic: before we drown
Before We Drown
Vicky T/Nate, Vicky T/The Cab
NC-17
Notes: Thanks to autumnfades (for the constant awesome), prettykitty_aya (for the awesome beta), and imjustlikeme (for everything ever).
Disclaimer: Not true. No, really. Really, really not true.
Brendon throws a fucking bitchfit when he finds out that Cash and Singer and the band can't come with them on the Honda Civic Tour. Throws a bitchfit and a half, in fact, and Pete probably gets close to doing more than wrestling him to the ground, wrestling him into submission.
There's a good possibility Pete was going to actually bite him and only just missed when Ryan walked into the room.
"Fuck, Pete," Ryan says and Brendon grins up at him. "Try not to kill my singer? We need him for a couple more months, at least."
So Brendon throws a bitchfit and Nate hears the story from Gabe who heard the story from Pete. It's gone through two different mouths, both of which Nate is generally inclined to disbelieve, except.
He's also met Brendon.
Still, he almost wishes that Brendon could have convinced Pete. At least then Nate would have all the Alexes and Ians and Cashes out of his hair.
It's almost like they've never seen a hot girl before, like they've never even met Victoria. Cash fucking coos over her the very first day, doesn't hesitate to touch her, suggestive touches that make Nate's eyes narrow and his hands clench. But Cash is only the first.
After Victoria lets Cash down easy (lets him down with a hand on his knee and the sweetest smile in her arsenal) it's one of the Alexes' turns. Singer, Nate knows. And Singer is good, wide smiles and all that stupid energy.
But.
He's still too young, Victoria says. Shakes her head and rolls her eyes at Nate.
"They're just babies," she says and runs a hand through his hair, playful but also this side of more.
Singer actually gets over it before Victoria even has the chance to say anything to him. It's just. One day he's stepping close to her, closer, and the next he's climbing all over Cash, trying to demonstrate some karate move that Nate is almost positive is just an excuse for him to touch Cash.
It gets worse.
It gets worse because Johnson is next and Nate actually likes Johnson. He's a fucking awesome drummer, a cute kid who's kind of quiet; it takes a miracle to get him to talk. So yeah, Nate likes him and when Johnson comes to him three weeks into tour, Nate actually mourns the day it became his job to take care of the kids crushed by Victoria's hotness.
(Luckily, Suarez gets roped into the job too and they spend a whole hour sending each other pained expressions over Johnson's head.)
There's only Marshall and Ian left after Johnson goes down and Gabe starts a pool; each of them betting on which one will fall first and how soon. Nate tries really hard to not bet, but then Gabe tracks him down, sits on his head until he gives in and picks Ian, four days from now. It's like flipping a coin because, really, Nate doesn't know either of them all that well.
Ryland wins when Gabe spots Marshall talking to Victoria on his day, Marshall's hand on her arm and his smile sort of shy and hesitant.
The thing with Marshall lasts surprisingly long (long enough that Nate starts snapping at Gabe over the stupidest things and automatically avoiding Victoria) and Nate thinks it's because the kid is too nice. Because his jokes are genuinely funny and his smile too sweet.
But then she does it, right after a show one night, and Nate is still coming down from his high when Marshall finds him in the crowd. His smile is not quite as bright as normal, his teeth digging softly into his lower lip.
Nate sighs and goes to find Suarez. There's no way he can do this alone.
Ian holds out the longest and Nate would be impressed if he hadn’t just lost fifty bucks, if it hadn't been over a week since he got laid. And even though the rest of them seem to have moved on, Nate can't manage to get Victoria alone.
They'll make plans, hotel night after a show and Suarez, Ryland, Gabe, are planning on going out. But then he'll get a text, a short boys are over sry that makes Nate wants to put his fist through the wall.
He ends up taking a shower and jerking off, fast and hard.
He's getting a little tired of all this shit when Ian finally bites the dust, starts hanging out with Victoria on his own more and more. And Victoria must be getting tired too because she sets him straight, right away.
Suddenly Nate and Suarez are back on broken heart duty and Nate wants to stab himself in the eye. Except that Ian is a pretty cool kid. He's more than just hair and an easy smile. He's also got some mad drumming skills and even though he's just fucking around, Nate doesn't mind messing around with him, going over different techniques and showing him a couple stupid tricks.
And now it's Nate with the plans, Nate sending Victoria texts to cancel a night in.
He and Ian do stupid shit, mess around with guitars and video games and drum kits, and they've been hanging out for what feels like a week straight when Ian says, "You and Victoria, huh?"
Nate promptly drops his controller and dies.
"Fucker," he says and tries to play it off. Pretend like he wasn't just shocked into losing. But Ian just laughs, resets the game and starts picking through the main menu.
"Huh uh," Ian says, cuts a glance at Nate before choosing the two player option. He's smiling when he says, "Don't even try to lie to me."
Nate can feel the way his eyes go just a little wide, the way his face probably looks drawn and. Stricken. His body is tensed, his hands clutching at air. Nate worries at his bottom lip a little bit, tries to think, wracks his brain for what the hell he should say.
"Well. Yeah, but-"
"I won't tell," Ian says, promises, and Nate meets his eyes. Ian nods and Nate knows him well enough now to know that he won't. "Come on, let me kick your ass again."
Nate laughs and it's on.
Later, Nate only notices the way Victoria glares when Suarez nudges him and makes a face.
"Victoria, sweetheart," Gabe says and there's too much sincerity in his voice to take him seriously. Nate narrows his eyes. "You need to get laid, baby."
That surprises a laugh out of Nate, a short burst of sound that he knows is a mistake as soon as it it's out. Fuck, he thinks, watching Victoria stomp away.
She threatens to cut him off the next time they're alone, right in the middle of the hallway and Victoria's voice goes low and threatening. Nate is half-hard, nodding and agreeing to whatever she says.
And when she storms off to her room a minute later, slamming the door behind her, Nate makes sure no one is watching before he follows, shuts the door quietly behind him.
"Vic," he says and the look she gives him is murderous. "I'm sorry. It'll never happen again," he goes on, hands held up in surrender. He tentatively puts one knee on the bed, crawls up next to her when she doesn't kick him, when she doesn't turn one of her awesome glares on him.
"Hey," he murmurs, his fingers so close to her exposed skin. Close enough that he can feel the heat of her. She's pretending to ignore him, reading a magazine and turning the pages too hard, but she shifts toward him a little.
"Victoria," he tries again, gets brave enough to smooth a hand over her thigh. He's pleased at the tiny noise that comes from her and he can see that she's half-smiling now. Nate pulls the magazine out of her hands, drops it onto the floor.
He starts at her cheek, presses light kisses across her cheekbone and then at the corner of her mouth.
"Nate," she says and her voice is strained.
His hand is sliding up her thigh, up beneath her skirt and she turns, meets his mouth and it's wet, a little sloppy.
She licks into his mouth and Nate lets her take control, doesn't complain when her hands thread through his hair and pull him closer. He's tugging his shirt over his head, pulling at his pants as Victoria breathes into his mouth, as she bites at his lower lip. Her mouth is hot, her tongue slick against his, and Nate doesn't want to pull away. Even to slide out of his jeans, ditch his shoes and socks.
And she's still fully clothed, shirt and thigh highs still intact, when he goes right back. Her skirt is rucked up slightly and Nate's hands skitter over her thighs, along the edges of her panties.
She moans into his mouth, her hips tilting against his fingers.
Victoria says his name, says it right into his skin, into his tongue, and Nate wants her, wants her now.
"Vicky, Victoria, hey," he says and his fingers slip beneath the elastic, rub gently along the skin. His touches are light, his kisses slowing even with the insistent pressure of Victoria, her hands demanding on the back of his head. He says, "Hey, hey," and Victoria glares.
"Now," she says, demands, and Nate's dick jumps. He gently pulls away from her hands, scrambles off the bed to find lube and condoms. Less than a minute and he's back, his hands pushing her skirt up to her waist. He presses lightly against her clit, through her panties.
Smiles when her hips buck.
"Nate," she grits out, her voice desperate. Nate loves the edge, loves that he's the one in control right now, in this moment. The one making her sound like that.
"Yeah?" He says and presses the tiniest bit harder. Her mouth opens and all that comes out is complete nonsense, nothing Nate can translate into English. "Yeah."
He moves his fingers away, ignores her sound of protest, and pushes her thighs apart. Nate spreads her legs and mouths along the inside of her thigh, just above her knee and all the way up to her underwear.
And then he's mouthing at her outer lips, mouthing her through the fabric and pressing his tongue lightly against her clit, lower.
"Ngggh," she says and Nate, presses his palms against her hips, leaves them there for a second and moves his tongue harder, faster. He moves his tongue against her and feels her struggle to move, to shift her hips and meet his rhythm.
Her fingers find his hair again and she's tugging, speaking still, and Nate lifts his head, looks at her over the bundle of cloth that is her skirt, over the swell of breasts that he hasn't touched in days.
"Yes?" He says and Victoria scowls.
"Get on with it," she says and Nate laughs, nips a little harder than necessary at her thigh and gives in. He pulls her underwear down, down past her ass and her knees and then he's dropping them over the side of the bed.
Nate doesn't say anything after that, runs one finger over her clit and then slips it inside of her, finds a rhythm that makes her hips twist and turn, makes her eyes flutter shut and her hands clench against the cheap hotel sheets.
He slides in another finger and presses his tongue there too, licks between his fingers and feels the way her moans vibrate through her skin, over her whole body.
He's twisting his fingers into her, pulling them out to use his tongue when Victoria's hands land on the back of his head again. And she says, voice breathless and eyes barely open, "Now."
Nate just stares up at her for a second, ten, fifteen, before he nods. Before he's pulling at the condom package and rolling it on. He spreads the lube over his dick, wipes his hand on the sheet, and then he's lining himself up, the head of his dick just nudging against her and Victoria is already squirming.
"You ready?" Nate says, his voice rough and his fingers tight on her hips. Victoria just nods and lifts her hips.
Nate slides in slowly, inch by inch, and Victoria is completely quiet beneath him, her fingers digging into his biceps and her lip caught between her teeth. She doesn't move until he's all the way in, until Nate leans down to press their lips together and they’re breathing together, hard and sort of erratic. But then her hips start shifting, restlessly at first and then with more intent. She's tugging at his arms, mumbling at him, "Please, Nate. Please."
Nate finally moves then, pulls out and snaps his hips back into hers, grits out a smile when her words turn into soft keening noises. He fucks into her, sets the perfect pace, and her legs are wrapping around his back, pulling him closer.
It’s not until Victoria’s hands move, up to wrap around the back of his neck, through the very ends of his hair, that Nate’s thrusts grow a little more frantic, desperate. Her hand tightens in his hair and her words are complete nonsense, tiny phrases and words that make Nate smile. His mouth is still pressed against hers and he can feel them, feel the words and the breaths coming out of her, rough and ragged.
He says, “Oh, fuck. Victoria,” and then his orgasm is crashing over him. His shoulders tense, his fingers tighten over her skin, dig in until she’s coming with him. Her back arches and Nate’s still thrusting, still pushing into her as her fingers scrabble across his shoulders.
Victoria’s eyes are still shut, her mouth working over silent words, when Nate’s thrusts slow, when his fingers loosen their grip.
He hums against her skin, her neck, and feels her hips bucking still.
“Vicky, Vic,” he mumbles into her skin, smiles when her hips twist up one last time. Her hands slowly let go of him and she goes completely boneless under him, sinks back into the bed and Nate watches as her eyes open slowly.
She smiles, slow and sweet, and Nate leans up to kiss her, pulls out gently.
Victoria’s stretching out, hands brushing the wall above her head and toes pointed, as Nate climbs off the bed, trashes the condom. She’s smiling lightly when he comes back, when he drops down next to her, rubs his thumb over her calf.
“What?” Nate says, leans down to run his teeth over the skin just above her thigh highs. Victoria giggles, low and barely a laugh at all.
“Nothing,” she finally says, her fingers drawing idle patterns in the sheets, over the skin of his shoulder.
“Well.” Nate bites lightly, draws a bruise there. Reluctantly he pulls away, says, “I should go back to my room. Find Suarez maybe.”
Her smile turns into the smallest of frowns, her fingers pausing, but she doesn’t say anything.
She doesn’t say anything until Nate is shrugging his shirt over his head, buckling his belt, and sliding his feet into his shoes. By then she’s pulled herself up to lean against the headboard, has lit a cigarette.
“You could stay,” she says finally, brushing a piece of hair out of her face. “Watch a movie and see if you can manage to get all of my clothes off this time.”
Her voice is full of snark, her lips quirked up into a smirk.
Nate rolls his eyes and thinks about what he’s got to do the rest of the night (nothing), thinks about how much he still wants her (a lot).
Nate smiles, crawls back onto the bed and into her lap.
Vicky T/Nate, Vicky T/The Cab
NC-17
Notes: Thanks to autumnfades (for the constant awesome), prettykitty_aya (for the awesome beta), and imjustlikeme (for everything ever).
Disclaimer: Not true. No, really. Really, really not true.
Brendon throws a fucking bitchfit when he finds out that Cash and Singer and the band can't come with them on the Honda Civic Tour. Throws a bitchfit and a half, in fact, and Pete probably gets close to doing more than wrestling him to the ground, wrestling him into submission.
There's a good possibility Pete was going to actually bite him and only just missed when Ryan walked into the room.
"Fuck, Pete," Ryan says and Brendon grins up at him. "Try not to kill my singer? We need him for a couple more months, at least."
So Brendon throws a bitchfit and Nate hears the story from Gabe who heard the story from Pete. It's gone through two different mouths, both of which Nate is generally inclined to disbelieve, except.
He's also met Brendon.
Still, he almost wishes that Brendon could have convinced Pete. At least then Nate would have all the Alexes and Ians and Cashes out of his hair.
It's almost like they've never seen a hot girl before, like they've never even met Victoria. Cash fucking coos over her the very first day, doesn't hesitate to touch her, suggestive touches that make Nate's eyes narrow and his hands clench. But Cash is only the first.
After Victoria lets Cash down easy (lets him down with a hand on his knee and the sweetest smile in her arsenal) it's one of the Alexes' turns. Singer, Nate knows. And Singer is good, wide smiles and all that stupid energy.
But.
He's still too young, Victoria says. Shakes her head and rolls her eyes at Nate.
"They're just babies," she says and runs a hand through his hair, playful but also this side of more.
Singer actually gets over it before Victoria even has the chance to say anything to him. It's just. One day he's stepping close to her, closer, and the next he's climbing all over Cash, trying to demonstrate some karate move that Nate is almost positive is just an excuse for him to touch Cash.
It gets worse.
It gets worse because Johnson is next and Nate actually likes Johnson. He's a fucking awesome drummer, a cute kid who's kind of quiet; it takes a miracle to get him to talk. So yeah, Nate likes him and when Johnson comes to him three weeks into tour, Nate actually mourns the day it became his job to take care of the kids crushed by Victoria's hotness.
(Luckily, Suarez gets roped into the job too and they spend a whole hour sending each other pained expressions over Johnson's head.)
There's only Marshall and Ian left after Johnson goes down and Gabe starts a pool; each of them betting on which one will fall first and how soon. Nate tries really hard to not bet, but then Gabe tracks him down, sits on his head until he gives in and picks Ian, four days from now. It's like flipping a coin because, really, Nate doesn't know either of them all that well.
Ryland wins when Gabe spots Marshall talking to Victoria on his day, Marshall's hand on her arm and his smile sort of shy and hesitant.
The thing with Marshall lasts surprisingly long (long enough that Nate starts snapping at Gabe over the stupidest things and automatically avoiding Victoria) and Nate thinks it's because the kid is too nice. Because his jokes are genuinely funny and his smile too sweet.
But then she does it, right after a show one night, and Nate is still coming down from his high when Marshall finds him in the crowd. His smile is not quite as bright as normal, his teeth digging softly into his lower lip.
Nate sighs and goes to find Suarez. There's no way he can do this alone.
Ian holds out the longest and Nate would be impressed if he hadn’t just lost fifty bucks, if it hadn't been over a week since he got laid. And even though the rest of them seem to have moved on, Nate can't manage to get Victoria alone.
They'll make plans, hotel night after a show and Suarez, Ryland, Gabe, are planning on going out. But then he'll get a text, a short boys are over sry that makes Nate wants to put his fist through the wall.
He ends up taking a shower and jerking off, fast and hard.
He's getting a little tired of all this shit when Ian finally bites the dust, starts hanging out with Victoria on his own more and more. And Victoria must be getting tired too because she sets him straight, right away.
Suddenly Nate and Suarez are back on broken heart duty and Nate wants to stab himself in the eye. Except that Ian is a pretty cool kid. He's more than just hair and an easy smile. He's also got some mad drumming skills and even though he's just fucking around, Nate doesn't mind messing around with him, going over different techniques and showing him a couple stupid tricks.
And now it's Nate with the plans, Nate sending Victoria texts to cancel a night in.
He and Ian do stupid shit, mess around with guitars and video games and drum kits, and they've been hanging out for what feels like a week straight when Ian says, "You and Victoria, huh?"
Nate promptly drops his controller and dies.
"Fucker," he says and tries to play it off. Pretend like he wasn't just shocked into losing. But Ian just laughs, resets the game and starts picking through the main menu.
"Huh uh," Ian says, cuts a glance at Nate before choosing the two player option. He's smiling when he says, "Don't even try to lie to me."
Nate can feel the way his eyes go just a little wide, the way his face probably looks drawn and. Stricken. His body is tensed, his hands clutching at air. Nate worries at his bottom lip a little bit, tries to think, wracks his brain for what the hell he should say.
"Well. Yeah, but-"
"I won't tell," Ian says, promises, and Nate meets his eyes. Ian nods and Nate knows him well enough now to know that he won't. "Come on, let me kick your ass again."
Nate laughs and it's on.
Later, Nate only notices the way Victoria glares when Suarez nudges him and makes a face.
"Victoria, sweetheart," Gabe says and there's too much sincerity in his voice to take him seriously. Nate narrows his eyes. "You need to get laid, baby."
That surprises a laugh out of Nate, a short burst of sound that he knows is a mistake as soon as it it's out. Fuck, he thinks, watching Victoria stomp away.
She threatens to cut him off the next time they're alone, right in the middle of the hallway and Victoria's voice goes low and threatening. Nate is half-hard, nodding and agreeing to whatever she says.
And when she storms off to her room a minute later, slamming the door behind her, Nate makes sure no one is watching before he follows, shuts the door quietly behind him.
"Vic," he says and the look she gives him is murderous. "I'm sorry. It'll never happen again," he goes on, hands held up in surrender. He tentatively puts one knee on the bed, crawls up next to her when she doesn't kick him, when she doesn't turn one of her awesome glares on him.
"Hey," he murmurs, his fingers so close to her exposed skin. Close enough that he can feel the heat of her. She's pretending to ignore him, reading a magazine and turning the pages too hard, but she shifts toward him a little.
"Victoria," he tries again, gets brave enough to smooth a hand over her thigh. He's pleased at the tiny noise that comes from her and he can see that she's half-smiling now. Nate pulls the magazine out of her hands, drops it onto the floor.
He starts at her cheek, presses light kisses across her cheekbone and then at the corner of her mouth.
"Nate," she says and her voice is strained.
His hand is sliding up her thigh, up beneath her skirt and she turns, meets his mouth and it's wet, a little sloppy.
She licks into his mouth and Nate lets her take control, doesn't complain when her hands thread through his hair and pull him closer. He's tugging his shirt over his head, pulling at his pants as Victoria breathes into his mouth, as she bites at his lower lip. Her mouth is hot, her tongue slick against his, and Nate doesn't want to pull away. Even to slide out of his jeans, ditch his shoes and socks.
And she's still fully clothed, shirt and thigh highs still intact, when he goes right back. Her skirt is rucked up slightly and Nate's hands skitter over her thighs, along the edges of her panties.
She moans into his mouth, her hips tilting against his fingers.
Victoria says his name, says it right into his skin, into his tongue, and Nate wants her, wants her now.
"Vicky, Victoria, hey," he says and his fingers slip beneath the elastic, rub gently along the skin. His touches are light, his kisses slowing even with the insistent pressure of Victoria, her hands demanding on the back of his head. He says, "Hey, hey," and Victoria glares.
"Now," she says, demands, and Nate's dick jumps. He gently pulls away from her hands, scrambles off the bed to find lube and condoms. Less than a minute and he's back, his hands pushing her skirt up to her waist. He presses lightly against her clit, through her panties.
Smiles when her hips buck.
"Nate," she grits out, her voice desperate. Nate loves the edge, loves that he's the one in control right now, in this moment. The one making her sound like that.
"Yeah?" He says and presses the tiniest bit harder. Her mouth opens and all that comes out is complete nonsense, nothing Nate can translate into English. "Yeah."
He moves his fingers away, ignores her sound of protest, and pushes her thighs apart. Nate spreads her legs and mouths along the inside of her thigh, just above her knee and all the way up to her underwear.
And then he's mouthing at her outer lips, mouthing her through the fabric and pressing his tongue lightly against her clit, lower.
"Ngggh," she says and Nate, presses his palms against her hips, leaves them there for a second and moves his tongue harder, faster. He moves his tongue against her and feels her struggle to move, to shift her hips and meet his rhythm.
Her fingers find his hair again and she's tugging, speaking still, and Nate lifts his head, looks at her over the bundle of cloth that is her skirt, over the swell of breasts that he hasn't touched in days.
"Yes?" He says and Victoria scowls.
"Get on with it," she says and Nate laughs, nips a little harder than necessary at her thigh and gives in. He pulls her underwear down, down past her ass and her knees and then he's dropping them over the side of the bed.
Nate doesn't say anything after that, runs one finger over her clit and then slips it inside of her, finds a rhythm that makes her hips twist and turn, makes her eyes flutter shut and her hands clench against the cheap hotel sheets.
He slides in another finger and presses his tongue there too, licks between his fingers and feels the way her moans vibrate through her skin, over her whole body.
He's twisting his fingers into her, pulling them out to use his tongue when Victoria's hands land on the back of his head again. And she says, voice breathless and eyes barely open, "Now."
Nate just stares up at her for a second, ten, fifteen, before he nods. Before he's pulling at the condom package and rolling it on. He spreads the lube over his dick, wipes his hand on the sheet, and then he's lining himself up, the head of his dick just nudging against her and Victoria is already squirming.
"You ready?" Nate says, his voice rough and his fingers tight on her hips. Victoria just nods and lifts her hips.
Nate slides in slowly, inch by inch, and Victoria is completely quiet beneath him, her fingers digging into his biceps and her lip caught between her teeth. She doesn't move until he's all the way in, until Nate leans down to press their lips together and they’re breathing together, hard and sort of erratic. But then her hips start shifting, restlessly at first and then with more intent. She's tugging at his arms, mumbling at him, "Please, Nate. Please."
Nate finally moves then, pulls out and snaps his hips back into hers, grits out a smile when her words turn into soft keening noises. He fucks into her, sets the perfect pace, and her legs are wrapping around his back, pulling him closer.
It’s not until Victoria’s hands move, up to wrap around the back of his neck, through the very ends of his hair, that Nate’s thrusts grow a little more frantic, desperate. Her hand tightens in his hair and her words are complete nonsense, tiny phrases and words that make Nate smile. His mouth is still pressed against hers and he can feel them, feel the words and the breaths coming out of her, rough and ragged.
He says, “Oh, fuck. Victoria,” and then his orgasm is crashing over him. His shoulders tense, his fingers tighten over her skin, dig in until she’s coming with him. Her back arches and Nate’s still thrusting, still pushing into her as her fingers scrabble across his shoulders.
Victoria’s eyes are still shut, her mouth working over silent words, when Nate’s thrusts slow, when his fingers loosen their grip.
He hums against her skin, her neck, and feels her hips bucking still.
“Vicky, Vic,” he mumbles into her skin, smiles when her hips twist up one last time. Her hands slowly let go of him and she goes completely boneless under him, sinks back into the bed and Nate watches as her eyes open slowly.
She smiles, slow and sweet, and Nate leans up to kiss her, pulls out gently.
Victoria’s stretching out, hands brushing the wall above her head and toes pointed, as Nate climbs off the bed, trashes the condom. She’s smiling lightly when he comes back, when he drops down next to her, rubs his thumb over her calf.
“What?” Nate says, leans down to run his teeth over the skin just above her thigh highs. Victoria giggles, low and barely a laugh at all.
“Nothing,” she finally says, her fingers drawing idle patterns in the sheets, over the skin of his shoulder.
“Well.” Nate bites lightly, draws a bruise there. Reluctantly he pulls away, says, “I should go back to my room. Find Suarez maybe.”
Her smile turns into the smallest of frowns, her fingers pausing, but she doesn’t say anything.
She doesn’t say anything until Nate is shrugging his shirt over his head, buckling his belt, and sliding his feet into his shoes. By then she’s pulled herself up to lean against the headboard, has lit a cigarette.
“You could stay,” she says finally, brushing a piece of hair out of her face. “Watch a movie and see if you can manage to get all of my clothes off this time.”
Her voice is full of snark, her lips quirked up into a smirk.
Nate rolls his eyes and thinks about what he’s got to do the rest of the night (nothing), thinks about how much he still wants her (a lot).
Nate smiles, crawls back onto the bed and into her lap.