godfather's lollipop
I JUST WROTE THIS AND I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IT IS. IT ISN'T FIC.
I've had "Godfather's Lollipop," by Shabutie, stuck in my head all evening, and... this happened. (There's nothing in the song involved, I swear, except for a single line.)
I guess it's a PG-13? R? There's strong language and implied sex. *shrug* Have a party.
"Love is such a strong word," she says, and there isn't a trace of irony or emotion in her voice. It's quiet, an empty drawl in the dark, but he smiles.
"You say that so fuckin' easy. It's gross."
"God, you're such a fucking romantic. Grow up."
He grunts in answer, rolls into the floor. She half-laughs. He ignores her, and feels for his jeans in the dark.
"And just where the hell are you going? It's ass in the morning, dude."
Being called "dude" by someone he just slept with was going to take getting used to. "Outside. I need a smoke."
"Was it that good?" And he smiles as he stands, buckles the pale denim around his hips. "You know damn well."
She smiles in the slant, pale slashes of light that slip through the blinds, and he brushes his lips over hers and then goes on his way, out, down the corridor and out into the night air. It's surprisingly cool outside, neon lights burning and leaving impressions on his sight, still burning against his lids when his eyes are closed. He leans against the brick and lights up, ignoring the sounds of people just down the street. Kids with skateboards clatter by and fall and they laugh at each other, the fallen one swearing sharply and swatting his friends when they get close. His mind wanders down the alleys to where a siren's shattering the air around the striking red vehicle it belongs to. Some poor fucker's in trouble. It isn't his problem; he pushes the sound out of his mind.
And then a soft hand is taking his cigarette, and he smiles before he even opens his eyes and sees her there, long, pale legs uncovered by his t-shirt that she was wearing. "This is my last one, bitch," she says, and pinches his bare side so that he flinches.
"I'll pay you back. You know that." She sighs heavily. "It's a joke."
"I knew that," he answers, and she smirks. "Of course you did."
They're quiet for a few minutes, and then he can't help but recite her own words back at her. "Love is such a strong word. Where the fuck'd you hear that, some shitty hardcore dudes in Shawn's basement?" Bands that played Shawn's basement were always bullshit kids that thought they knew the world inside and out.
She snorts. "I haven't been in Shawn's basement since I was, like, fourteen, dude," and he rolls his eyes, because how long ago was that? Five, six years now? It didn't matter. "Then where'd you pull that from?"
She shrugs, folding her arms. "It's an observation."
"It's kinda shitty."
"Gee, thanks."
He shrugs this time. "I mean, shit, you're right. But, like..."
"But you like the idea, huh?" She seems indifferent, but her smile is secretive.
He turns to look at her, the orange light of a street lamp bright on her cheeks. "Yeah."
She swaggers over to him, a casual, loose step that lands her against his side, but barely. "So, just what do you think this is we've got going?"
"Fucking?" He smirks, just a little. "I don't know. You tell me."
She laughs. "And here I was, calling you a fuckin' romantic. I should know better."
"You asked."
"Okay, you win," she says with a slow nod, and then she pauses to think, taking a drag and letting white lace smoke drift from her lips. "I think I don't know, either."
"Well, then maybe it could be love."
She chuckles and plants the cigarette back between his lips, lightly kisses his jaw. She smells like smoke and cheap lavender soap. "Love, huh? That would be cool, wouldn't it?"
He wraps an arm around her waist and kisses her hair. "Yeah," he says, "That would be cool."
"I say we sleep on it. Love is a big deal, you know," she says melodramatically, and he plucks the cigarette from his smile and kisses her. "It is."
She turns on her heel and swings around the corner, pausing to lean back around and throw him a devious smile. "Come on. Don't wanna leave the lady you love waiting."
He chuckles. "And who would that be?" And she sticks her tongue out at him and sprints down the hall to their room, knowing he's right behind her.
I've had "Godfather's Lollipop," by Shabutie, stuck in my head all evening, and... this happened. (There's nothing in the song involved, I swear, except for a single line.)
I guess it's a PG-13? R? There's strong language and implied sex. *shrug* Have a party.
"Love is such a strong word," she says, and there isn't a trace of irony or emotion in her voice. It's quiet, an empty drawl in the dark, but he smiles.
"You say that so fuckin' easy. It's gross."
"God, you're such a fucking romantic. Grow up."
He grunts in answer, rolls into the floor. She half-laughs. He ignores her, and feels for his jeans in the dark.
"And just where the hell are you going? It's ass in the morning, dude."
Being called "dude" by someone he just slept with was going to take getting used to. "Outside. I need a smoke."
"Was it that good?" And he smiles as he stands, buckles the pale denim around his hips. "You know damn well."
She smiles in the slant, pale slashes of light that slip through the blinds, and he brushes his lips over hers and then goes on his way, out, down the corridor and out into the night air. It's surprisingly cool outside, neon lights burning and leaving impressions on his sight, still burning against his lids when his eyes are closed. He leans against the brick and lights up, ignoring the sounds of people just down the street. Kids with skateboards clatter by and fall and they laugh at each other, the fallen one swearing sharply and swatting his friends when they get close. His mind wanders down the alleys to where a siren's shattering the air around the striking red vehicle it belongs to. Some poor fucker's in trouble. It isn't his problem; he pushes the sound out of his mind.
And then a soft hand is taking his cigarette, and he smiles before he even opens his eyes and sees her there, long, pale legs uncovered by his t-shirt that she was wearing. "This is my last one, bitch," she says, and pinches his bare side so that he flinches.
"I'll pay you back. You know that." She sighs heavily. "It's a joke."
"I knew that," he answers, and she smirks. "Of course you did."
They're quiet for a few minutes, and then he can't help but recite her own words back at her. "Love is such a strong word. Where the fuck'd you hear that, some shitty hardcore dudes in Shawn's basement?" Bands that played Shawn's basement were always bullshit kids that thought they knew the world inside and out.
She snorts. "I haven't been in Shawn's basement since I was, like, fourteen, dude," and he rolls his eyes, because how long ago was that? Five, six years now? It didn't matter. "Then where'd you pull that from?"
She shrugs, folding her arms. "It's an observation."
"It's kinda shitty."
"Gee, thanks."
He shrugs this time. "I mean, shit, you're right. But, like..."
"But you like the idea, huh?" She seems indifferent, but her smile is secretive.
He turns to look at her, the orange light of a street lamp bright on her cheeks. "Yeah."
She swaggers over to him, a casual, loose step that lands her against his side, but barely. "So, just what do you think this is we've got going?"
"Fucking?" He smirks, just a little. "I don't know. You tell me."
She laughs. "And here I was, calling you a fuckin' romantic. I should know better."
"You asked."
"Okay, you win," she says with a slow nod, and then she pauses to think, taking a drag and letting white lace smoke drift from her lips. "I think I don't know, either."
"Well, then maybe it could be love."
She chuckles and plants the cigarette back between his lips, lightly kisses his jaw. She smells like smoke and cheap lavender soap. "Love, huh? That would be cool, wouldn't it?"
He wraps an arm around her waist and kisses her hair. "Yeah," he says, "That would be cool."
"I say we sleep on it. Love is a big deal, you know," she says melodramatically, and he plucks the cigarette from his smile and kisses her. "It is."
She turns on her heel and swings around the corner, pausing to lean back around and throw him a devious smile. "Come on. Don't wanna leave the lady you love waiting."
He chuckles. "And who would that be?" And she sticks her tongue out at him and sprints down the hall to their room, knowing he's right behind her.