Original fic: Beaten Path (OMC/OFC, PG-13)
Title: Beaten Path
Pairing: OMC/OFC
Rating: PG-13
Summary: He knows exactly where she's taking him.
Word Count: 600
Warnings: none
Notes: Thanks to mercilynn for the read-through! It has been a very long time since I've written any original fic, so this was in turns exciting and scary.
Prompt: This picture (NSFW!) for the Sex is Not the Enemy Fic/Artathon.
It's July 4th hot and the air is thick with the smell of smoke from barbecues and firecrackers, meaty and acrid. The street is having a block party to celebrate, decked out in red-white-and-blue, commemorating the birth of a nation and twenty years of Mrs. Henrie's famous potato salad all in one.
He hasn't seen Amy since Christmas break, and then it was only for a minute. Now she's down the block with her parents, wearing a tank top and flip-flops and sipping a Coke. She looks over and he waves and she smiles, so he excuses himself from the good ol' boy conversation he's been listening to among his dad's friends and heads down the street.
"Hey Cowboy," she says when he draws near. She's called him that since he moved here with his family from Texas at age 13, which is when they met. "How you doin'?"
"Doin' alright," he tells her. "How're you?"
"Pretty good. Just trying to find a job that pays." She smiles sunnily up at him.
"I heard you graduated. Congratulations."
"Thank you."
A small crowd of neighbors shifts around them and he takes a step closer to her, getting out of the way. They smile at each other for a moment, silent.
"I want to show you something," she says suddenly. "Do you have time right now?"
"I mean, I was going to go eat another hot dog, but I guess I could move some things around my busy schedule and--"
She laughs and turns away confidently, knowing he'll follow.
Parked in front of her parents' house is a sweet four-door convertible, light blue metallic finish with black leather upholstery and wood accents. She thrusts her arms toward it, presenting it like a game show prize, and he whistles appreciatively.
"My graduation gift," she explains.
"Damn."
"My mom wanted to make it a Prius but Dad and I brought her around."
He laughs.
"You want to go for a drive?"
"Yeah, sure."
She drives them out of their suburban enclave and into the country, speeding around familiar curves and laughing as the wind whips her hair into her face. He relaxes in the passenger seat, resting his arm along the window frame, soaking in the sun and leaving her to control the radio.
"You know where I'm taking you?" she asks.
He takes his time looking around them, at the empty fields on either side of the road, at the exit coming up ahead of them. He knows exactly where she's taking him.
"I think I've got an idea," he tells her.
"Mmhmm."
Where she's taking him is the field he used to take her in high school, where he would try to score and she'd never let him go below the waist.
She pulls off onto the familiar back road and parks the car, leaving the music on low. They sit quietly for a few moments.
"I've got some good memories of this place," he says. She laughs at him.
"That's good to hear. I was worried the blue balls might have caused permanent damage. Or resentment, at the very least."
"I got over it."
"Somehow."
"Somehow," he agrees.
"I missed you," she says quietly. "At college."
"Yeah. Me too."
She looks a little sad. "I'm not sorry I went out of state," she tells him. "But I'm sorry, you know... that we couldn't stay together."
He thumbs her cheek, pushing her mouth into a lopsided smile. "Together right now," he offers. He feels like holding his breath, waiting for her.
"Yeah," she says. She smiles, a real smile, and leans in to kiss him.
Pairing: OMC/OFC
Rating: PG-13
Summary: He knows exactly where she's taking him.
Word Count: 600
Warnings: none
Notes: Thanks to mercilynn for the read-through! It has been a very long time since I've written any original fic, so this was in turns exciting and scary.
Prompt: This picture (NSFW!) for the Sex is Not the Enemy Fic/Artathon.
It's July 4th hot and the air is thick with the smell of smoke from barbecues and firecrackers, meaty and acrid. The street is having a block party to celebrate, decked out in red-white-and-blue, commemorating the birth of a nation and twenty years of Mrs. Henrie's famous potato salad all in one.
He hasn't seen Amy since Christmas break, and then it was only for a minute. Now she's down the block with her parents, wearing a tank top and flip-flops and sipping a Coke. She looks over and he waves and she smiles, so he excuses himself from the good ol' boy conversation he's been listening to among his dad's friends and heads down the street.
"Hey Cowboy," she says when he draws near. She's called him that since he moved here with his family from Texas at age 13, which is when they met. "How you doin'?"
"Doin' alright," he tells her. "How're you?"
"Pretty good. Just trying to find a job that pays." She smiles sunnily up at him.
"I heard you graduated. Congratulations."
"Thank you."
A small crowd of neighbors shifts around them and he takes a step closer to her, getting out of the way. They smile at each other for a moment, silent.
"I want to show you something," she says suddenly. "Do you have time right now?"
"I mean, I was going to go eat another hot dog, but I guess I could move some things around my busy schedule and--"
She laughs and turns away confidently, knowing he'll follow.
Parked in front of her parents' house is a sweet four-door convertible, light blue metallic finish with black leather upholstery and wood accents. She thrusts her arms toward it, presenting it like a game show prize, and he whistles appreciatively.
"My graduation gift," she explains.
"Damn."
"My mom wanted to make it a Prius but Dad and I brought her around."
He laughs.
"You want to go for a drive?"
"Yeah, sure."
She drives them out of their suburban enclave and into the country, speeding around familiar curves and laughing as the wind whips her hair into her face. He relaxes in the passenger seat, resting his arm along the window frame, soaking in the sun and leaving her to control the radio.
"You know where I'm taking you?" she asks.
He takes his time looking around them, at the empty fields on either side of the road, at the exit coming up ahead of them. He knows exactly where she's taking him.
"I think I've got an idea," he tells her.
"Mmhmm."
Where she's taking him is the field he used to take her in high school, where he would try to score and she'd never let him go below the waist.
She pulls off onto the familiar back road and parks the car, leaving the music on low. They sit quietly for a few moments.
"I've got some good memories of this place," he says. She laughs at him.
"That's good to hear. I was worried the blue balls might have caused permanent damage. Or resentment, at the very least."
"I got over it."
"Somehow."
"Somehow," he agrees.
"I missed you," she says quietly. "At college."
"Yeah. Me too."
She looks a little sad. "I'm not sorry I went out of state," she tells him. "But I'm sorry, you know... that we couldn't stay together."
He thumbs her cheek, pushing her mouth into a lopsided smile. "Together right now," he offers. He feels like holding his breath, waiting for her.
"Yeah," she says. She smiles, a real smile, and leans in to kiss him.