francisco javier es una (pesadilla) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2012-09-04 23:58:00 |
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There were few left in the city of Las Vegas who would name Lin among their friends and vice versa. At most, there was a handful. But even they hadn’t seen much of him since his fallout with Aubrey. He had implemented a policy of isolationism and enforced it much more often than not. Connecting with Shai over the journals was unexpected, but Lin wouldn’t say he wasn’t glad for it. Maybe he hadn’t wanted the company of friends in past months, preferring to spend his evenings in bed, alone, but he had to admit it was refreshing to talk to someone who didn’t automatically hate him or think him stupid - or both. Not to mention, Shai - he’d missed Shai. She was a take-no-prisoners, take-no-shit kind of girl with a sense of humor, who was always up to her neck in something, and Lin admired that. How could he not? Her last conversation with Callum had left Shailee pissed off and tense, and combined with the frustration that came from the dead-end Mumford leads, she had had become more or less unpleasant. The worst part was that she knew it. Lin's re-appearance then, came as a blessing. Lin was a friend she could relax and have a good time with, who let her be without subjecting her to harsh scrutiny first. Being friends with him was one of the easiest thing in the world, and Shailee could go for a little easy right about now. Pun and all. She threw on a fractionally more elaborate outfit than her usual - a navy tank dress that clung in all the right places, big, colorful jewelry, and some seriously tall heels - and headed over to pick her friend up. Shailee knew it would take them a while to get on the road, what with paper-wrapped bottle she had brought along, so she paid the cabbie for the ride and sent him off. They could always call another one, once they'd put the hurt on the brand new bottle of tequila in her hand. Or they might get drunk and pass out on the couch. It really was a toss up, when it came to these two. Taking the stairs as fast as she could in her 5-inch heels, Shailee made enough of a clamor outside to render the doorbell unnecessary. She rang it anyway, because tense wreck or not, she was still civilized, dammit. "Lin Alesi!" she hollered, loud enough for the neighbors to hear. "You can't just order an escort and have her waiting outside like this. My pimp will hear about this!" Ah, yes, there she was now, the little peach. How he had missed her. The doorbell rang, but Shai’s arrival had been announced seconds prior by the sounds of her sure-to-be-towering heels on the stairs and her honeyed, dulcet tones calling out about pimps and escorts, per usual. Lin threw his legs over the side of the couch, tossed his phone down, and got to his feet. He wrenched the door open. Shai stood taller than him in her heels. She wore a fitted dress in dark blue with multi-colored bangles here and there about her wrists and neck. Then there were her shoes. Lord, her shoes. Whatever sexuality (or lack thereof) one happened to identify with, Lin was certain that everyone could agree on how hot those shoes were on Shai. A bottle of something was clenched in her fist. The boy smiled at her, leaning casually on the doorjamb. “Ah, Ms. Thakkar,” he said at an equally high volume, looking her up and down. Of course she was going to get what she gave. That was how it was between them. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you - you don’t have to masquerade as an escort to get my attention. You can just tell me you want to fuck me.” Giving her his most winning smile, Lin straightened and stepped back from the door to allow Shai entrance into his condo, one arm thrown out to show her the way. Seeing her friend across the threshold, Shailee couldn't help but break into a huge grin. The give and take was half the reason she loved Lin's company so much. She kept her voice calm, at the exact octave it had been. "Baby I want to ride like the fucking Bullet train from Kyoto to Tokyo." Before he could move, she had covered the distance between them, wrapping one leg around his hips, winding the bottle and her free hand around his back. "Emphasis on the fucking." She leaned in and planted an exaggerated wet kiss on the corner of his mouth, and disentangled herself. Even Shailee thought it impressive she managed to maintain her balance on a single shoe through that whole display. She stepped passed Lin through the apartment, whirling around once the door was shut. "You ready for this, gorgeous?" She waved the brown-bagged bottle over her head as she made straight for the cupboard with the glasses. "I brought us some mojo juice to get things going." It would have been asking too much. Lin ought to have known. It wasn’t as if Shai could simply walk into the condo like a normal person might (after a strange exchange). No, she had to come at him in a whirl and snake her leg around him in a manner most inappropriate (whilst defying physics, simultaneously). He could feel the bottle of whatever it was resting against his back. Lin smiled at her, lifting his eyebrows, but he couldn’t hold the expression. The Bullet train comment did it. He laughed, allowing Shai to give him a wet kiss. “Well, in that case, come in.” He grinned as he was released and followed Shai back inside. She spun around inside and Lin could only shake his head. When the door was closed, he looked over to see the bottle in the air as Shai waved it around. “Am I ready?” He scoffed. “I think you’ve forgotten who you’re talking to-slash-wrapping your leg around.” Into the kitchen they went. Lin attempted to fetch down a pair of shot glasses he kept on the top shelf of the cupboard that held the glasses, but Shai was taller than him, so he let her do it. He perched himself on the edge of the table, watching her. “What kind of mojo juice are we talkin’ here? I do have to wake up at some point tomorrow, so let’s keep that in mind.” Shailee grabbed the glasses from the top shelf with ease. Damn, those shoes sure came in handy sometimes. "I remembered who you were, Lin. I didn't want to risk being held liable for whoever you might have become since we last did this." And that was it. Flippancy was how Shailee disguised the fact that she had missed spending time with her friend, and that she was sorry for having to travel so much. Neither of them would acknowledge these kinds of emotions verbally, of course. Not when they had snark and tequila to hide behind. She snapped the plastic seal on the bottle and poured out two perfect shots for them. Not a drop of liquor was spilled; Shailee was no amateur. "The best kind of mojo juice, my friend. Top shelf, clear. Shooters, not sippers." They clinked glasses and threw them back, and Shailee poured out two more. "Some point is good. I can do a lot with some point. Had you said morning, or even afternoon, then I would have been concerned." “Well, don’t worry about me. As I’m sure some would be happy to inform you, I never change,” quipped Lin brightly from the table, kicking his legs. He didn’t know if the statement was true or not - it was certainly a sentiment Aubrey often leveraged against him, but decided it didn’t really matter. At the very least, had (and if) he changed, he would always be ready for this, gorgeous. This - the laughing and snarking and drinking and playing - was too much a part of his essential nature to change in a few months of not seeing each other. That much he hoped Shai knew. Had the evening been intended to have a serious tone, Lin might have admitted to missing his friend, but he wasn’t one to set tones. He went along with them, and tonight was no exception. If Shai’s antics were any indication, the last thing she needed right now was a somber evening filled with meaningful discussion and existential wonderings. And that was fine. Lin marvelled at the unparalleled pouring he was witnessing - seriously, how was she doing that? - and even offered a smattering of applause, before accepting the mojo in the little shot glass. They drank to the top shelf and shooting, not sipping. It burned as it went down, but it was a familiar, almost comfortable feeling. He shook his head as more shots were poured. “I don’t like to make my plans too specific,” he said, lifting the second shot to meet Shai’s glass. “There’s less disappointment this way.” This one went down easier. Lin ran a hand over his mouth and held out his shot glass for a refill. He scooched a little to the left on the tabletop and patted the wood next to himself. “Get your ass over here with that bottle and tell me what you’ve been doing with yourself.” Shailee executed a comic curtsy to acknowledge Lin's applause before clinking glasses again. "Here's to less disappointment." The liquor burned fire on its way down but also got her blood pumping. She hopped up on the table next to Lin, the bottle never straying far from her side. "I've been sacrificing my life and my mind to work, like the regular workaholic that I am." Another shot poured, then downed. "I keep wanting to kill the man who's been made my responsibility, and I'm worried if I fuck this up, it'll be the end." She poured a fourth shot, and held it between them. "And after this shot, I'm done talking about it." They touched glasses. Even though she couldn't feel the buzz from the four shots of tequila, Shailee could certainly feel the warmth that had begun to grow within her. She smiled at Lin, a smile that was all comfort and trust, with just a hint of 'it's you and me against the world'. It was a smile that hadn't touched her face in months. "Now that we're done talking about me, why don't you tell me everything I've missed in my absence. You done trying to drink your way to an early grave?" The question was asked matter-of-factly, without judgment. This friendship wasn't about judgment. "Back to being fabulous, once more?" A pained expression of sympathy passed over Lin’s face and he shook his head, and it wasn’t just because he’d hit shot number three and he was a small person. He assumed Shai didn’t actually want to kill this man she was talking about, but he could understand the theoretical desire. “Shit, that’s a tough position to be in.” He lifted his glass to hers. It is perhaps true that his friend wasn’t yet feeling the effects of the alcohol, but the same could not be said for Lin - if only slightly. He was, at least, verifiably tipsy. Six shots were his absolute maximum; anything more and he would black-out. That was a lesson he’d learned the hard way at Berkeley. But his slow, impending drunkenness was put off by the fact that he was still sitting. When he stood, which would be in a while as he had no intention of doing so, the world would begin its canting to whatever angle it was to be tonight, but for now he was safe. The smile that lit up Shai’s face was contagious and Lin wasn’t immune. He smiled back at her, nudging her with his shoulder, before she steered the conversation to him. Then he heaved a sigh, turning the shot glass over in his hands. “I still maintain that just because I was trying to drink myself into an early grave doesn’t mean I wasn’t fabulous then too. But, to answer your question, the latter, I’d say,” he shrugged, which did little to lend credibility to the statement fresh out of his mouth. “I wish I had something exciting to share, like wanting to kill someone, but - alas, my life is monotonous, especially in comparison to yours. - I did see Aubrey a few days ago. It went as expected - ending with his dog on top of me. The usual.” He paused in his babbling and looked over to Shai. She was on the journals. He arched a brow in her direction. “Did you have any of those memories that everyone seemed to be inundated with at once?” "Yeah. Did I mention that if he disappears or gets hurt or dies it's on me?" Shailee pursed her lips and shook her head. "But like I said, we're not talking about this tonight." She poured herself another shot to sip, leaving Lin's glass alone. She knew exactly how much of a lightweight her friend was. "Oh," Shailee dropped a hand on her friend’s knee, leaning forward so he'd know just how serious she was being. "You were a little fabulous, I'll give you that. But you have to admit it's a little hard to show the world your complete Lin-esque glory when you're so... mopey." She took a sip of her tequila, and all but spat it out. "I'm sorry, what? You saw him? And his dog ended up on top of you? Last I checked, doggy style didn't involve actual canines, babe." She rolled her eyes and held out her hand to pause him, and took another swig of tequila, this time straight from the bottle. "And then some. People in this town are fucked up, Lin. Were yours good ones or awful too?" Of course Lin wasn’t oblivious to the empty glass and the deliberate message behind it. He squinted at Shailee, preparing to order her to include him in her excessive drinking and to tell her that his Lin-esque glory was ever apparent, but then she more or less spat tequila on him. In a way, maybe that counted as being included? Fingers of liquor dripped down his neck and on his shirt. There was a spattering on his chin. The boy gave his friend a long, unimpressed look. Then he laughed, taken off-guard by her doggy-style comment. He held up his hands to ward off the images flooding his mind and shook his head vehemently. “His dog was cute, yes, but, please. I have some standards. They may be low, but they’re there, I promise. I did see him though. He sent me these weird, drunken texts. What was I supposed to do?” He shrugged, then remembered the tequila that was beginning to itch the skin on his throat. After Shai took a slug from the bottle, no shot glass included, he took the bottle from her and poured himself a shot. After downing it, he sat with his eyes closed for a second or two, then turned to the woman next to him. He narrowed his eyes at her. “I’ll tell you about the memories I had, but first you have to clean up the mess you made,” said Lin in the best authoritative parent voice he had, gesturing to his neck and face. Shailee shrugged off the unimpressed look. In their long, shared history of unimpressive maneuvers, a little tequila spittake didn't even begin to make the list. A little tequila never hurt anyone. If anything, it might convince someone Lin was more drunk than he looked and entice him or her to take advantage of it. For all intents and purposes, then, Shailee sputtering tequila on Lin was simply all a part of being a good wingwoman. She dropped her jaw in what was an exaggerated, affronted look. "You have standards? Why haven't I seen any in all these years? Now that?" she paused to let out a huff and take another sip of her tequila, "That's just insulting." Pushing herself higher on the table, she turned until she was mostly facing her friend. "How weird is weird? Like I want to lick the skin between your toes weird or I just buried the baby in my backyard weird? The way I look at it, there's only two possible outcomes from a drunk text: you either ignore it and pretend it didn't happen, or you answer it and end up sleeping with the guy." She gave her friend a sheepish smile. "I'm glad you didn't sleep with him, babe." Her brows rose high when he took the bottle and downed another shot. "Bringing your A-game, I see. Alright, alright. I'll play along." She narrowed her eyes at him, studying the rivulets of tequila that were still making their way down the side of his face neck. "Fine, I'll take back my tequila," Shailee scooted close, until her inside knee was up against Lin's thigh. "But only if you promise not to squirm, if it tickles." Pressing close to his neck, Shailee flicked her tongue with expert accuracy at the drops of cold liquor on his cheeks-chin-neck, finishing it up with a long kiss against the base of his collarbone, just because she could. "There," her brows quirked as her lips twisted into a smirk. "Now it's like it never happened." “Well, if I’d showed you my standards, Shai, baby, we’d never be able to sleep together,” replied Lin in an apologetic, but very casual voice, offering the smallest of shrugs, as if saying, ’I’m sorry, but it’s true.’ He gave his friend a sweet, broad smile - to counteract the insulting words he’d just spoken. Or perhaps to highlight them. One or the other. The empty shot glass in hand again, he fiddled with it as he remembered his semi-embarrassing encounter with Aubrey (and Greyson) the other night. He shot his friend a glance as she turned to face him. In all honesty, he still wasn’t sure how he felt about how things went, or how he felt about the idea of potentially sleeping with Aubrey, as Shai had brought up. Returning the smile, he shrugged a second time and began to swing his legs. “It was a mixture of the weirds,” he said. “Like, hey, I just buried a baby in the backyard and, man, I really have a craving for that skin between your toes.” He laughed. “But, really, you don’t have to worry about us sleeping together. Uh, it ain’t gonna happen. I have a distinct feeling he would rather bury me in the backyard and lick the baby’s between-toe-skin, in an entirely non-sexual way. I was just - I don’t know. I hadn’t even heard from him in a year, then all of a sudden, pop! There he is on the journal-thing. Then he texts me. I felt like I had to do something about it. But, when the dog pushed me over, I figured I might as well go home. The night wasn’t going to end any better than that. At least someone kissed me.” It was only heaving a sigh that stopped Lin from continuing to ramble. He hadn’t spoken to anyone about seeing Aubrey. Partly because he had no one to tell, but mostly due to the fact that he was so undecided about his feelings surrounding the whole thing. Shai, he knew, however, would understand. His thoughts ended there. Because the woman, in her slinky navy dress, was leaning in close, her leg against his. Her tongue tickled pleasantly on his neck as she hunted down the tequila, but doing as he was bid for once, Lin didn’t move - much, anyway. She ended by planting a kiss on his collar bone. He couldn’t help himself then and he laughed, putting an arm out to push her back a bit. “Good job, you tease. I’ll make sure to spit on you later. - In answer to your question, they were both. But mostly bad. I take it yours were similarly aligned?”” He was still stifling his laughter, speaking a little breathlessly, as he brushed a hand over the skin of his neck where her tongue, and the tequila before it, had traced. Shailee laughed off the insult. “We both know how long that would last.” Casual, string-free sex and public groping were a part of the basic tenets of their relationship; two of the pillars that held the whole damn roof up. “So maybe it’s better for both of us that you keep them at their current, non-existent level.” Her words had perhaps a hint more sincerity than his did, possibly because they were both well aware that in no universe would sleeping with the other person be considered a step down the ladder. They were sexy bitches and they knew it. “Good, because if that punk causes your liver or head or heart to explode, I will kill him.” The words were uttered with the same deadpan tone as the rest, but there was a glint in her eye that said Shailee Thakkar might actually be injurious to Aubrey’s health if he continued to mess with her boy. “You know, I’d always pictured him as the Lin-burying-baby-toe-licking type. Figures he’d get drunk and text you.” Shailee hadn’t been opposed to Lin and Aubrey’s relationship while it was ongoing, but watching the toll the breakup had taken on her friend had put Aubrey firmly in the ‘OH HELL NO’ column. “Good for the dog then. Now I almost feel bad for misjudging his intentions towards you. Almost.” Shailee heard the sigh and noticed the way he fidgeted with the glass, and had they been any other two people at that moment, there would have been a consoling pat or a hug followed by an ‘It will be okay.’ But they were them, and empty words of solace wasn’t their style. Booze and sex on the other hand? Totally was. Shailee shook her head and handed Lin the bottle of tequila. “Drink up. I want you good and liquored up for whatever hot bitch you bring home.” Laughing as he pushed her away, Shailee put her hands out in what was the closest approximation of a seated curtsy. “I live to tease, baby. Lucky for you, I’m even better at following through.” She groaned and took back the bottle. “Let me put it this way: I now know what burning flesh smells like.” It figured that of all people, she was the one who ended up with the fucking arsonist in her head. She hated the fact that she didn’t know who the fucker was, or if he was responsible for the latest surge of Las Vegas fires. “I’m hoping the tequila will help me forget the whole thing. Think it’ll work?” It was refreshing to talk to someone who knew Aubrey and him, who didn’t want Lin dead. Not so surprisingly, that was the most common reaction the boy received when bumping into mutual friends - ‘Lin?’ ‘Oh, hi!’ ‘...I can’t believe you.’ ‘...Alright, see ya.’ - something along those lines. When Shai threatened to kill his ex-boyfriend (whom she referred to as a ‘punk,’ which was hilarious in and of itself), the boy could only laugh and say, “Just do it quickly.” He decided to drop the rest of the Aubrey conversation, about how drunk he was, how he looked like a fucking train had smashed into him. Talking about the other man was just depressing - and being drunk and depressed was no fun, and usually ended with Lin in the fetal position in some pathetic location around the condo, like the bathroom floor, sobbing. Tonight he’d rather do something different. Accepting the bottle of tequila, he followed Shai’s lead and took a healthy swig from it, not bothering with his glass that he’d set on the tabletop behind them. He grinned at Shai’s curtsy. Then his smile was replaced by a genuine look of horror. Because, what the fuck? Flashing Shai an alarmed look, Lin passed her the tequila. “...To be honest, I don’t know if anything could help one forget something like that. Gross.” He shivered. “What the fuck - do you know whose it was?” Of course Shailee was on Lin’s side. She knew the circumstances of Aubrey and Lin’s breakup, but she also knew Lin’s reasons for doing it. Maybe it was due to the fact that she was as twisted inside as he was, but she understood why Lin had done what he had done. And even if she hadn’t, her job as his friend would have been to stand by his side no matter how stupid she thought he was acting. “I promise no such thing. If that man drives you to an early grave, I’m going to avenge you slow and nice-like.” The look of abject horror on Lin’s face served to confirm just how awful the entire experience had been. “Well, fuck. I’m out of options.” A beat. “Are you sure? I think I should try anyway.” She tilted the bottle straight up and took a 10-second pull. If she couldn’t drive that memory from her mind, she was damn well going to get drunk enough to end up dancing topless on someone’s table. She swiped at her mouth with the back of her hand when she was done, the volume of tequila she had downed burning enough to make even a woman of her experience grimace. “Not a fucking clue. If I did I’d turn the fucker right in for murder and arson.” Lin, of course, didn’t know what Shailee’s true career was, or just how much it killed her that there was a criminal on the loose that she had been inside the mind of, but could do absolutely nothing about. To make matters worse, she knew she could never tell him. Oh well. That was why they had tequila. While giving no verbal response to Shai’s assurance that Aubrey would die painfully and slowly, Lin just smiled. He wanted to say something, but - he had made a conscious decision to let bygones be bygones, just for tonight. Tomorrow he’d go back to complaining loudly. Anyway, such a conversation - about how sad he felt, etc., paled in comparison to having someone else’s memory forced onto you that involved someone being burned (alive or dead, doesn’t matter). And then, to top it all off, to have no idea whose it was or what to do about it - Lin frowned as Shai lifted the bottle to her lips and took a long, healthy swallow. He saw her grimace too, at the end. Still this was another topic it wouldn’t do to dwell on. It was obvious his friend didn’t really want to go into the gory details (nor did Lin want her to), so he would focus instead on drinking. “Only practice makes perfect, Shailee,” he said very solemnly, plucking the tequila from Shai’s grip. He held up a hand, as he used his free one to lift the bottle to his own lips - only briefly, before continuing. “I vote that disturbing, disgusting, and depressing topics of conversation be saved for another, more appropriate night, like a candlelit dinner or something. Right now what we both need is to forget, not to dwell. Am I right?” Raising his eyebrows at the woman next to him, he held up the bottle for her to, in theory, drink to - though she’d have to take the liquor from him to do that. Ah, well. “Well it’s a good thing I’m a perfectionist then,” Shailee said with a wink, making grabby motions at the bottle. “I’ll just have to practice, practice, practice.” Her words were slightly slurred, just to the point where she would vehemently deny any accusation of it. Her head was starting to feel lighter, and she was glad for it, as it meant soon she wouldn’t have to fret over fucked up memories or Westerberg at all. “You are completely right, sir. Fuck all that shit, we’re here to have some fun.” she said, sweeping a hand across the room dramatically. Her declaration made, she hopped off the table and onto her feet, managing to keep her weight centered despite the booze in her system. Keeping her balance in five-inch heels through the different shades of intoxication was a skill Shailee had spent years acquiring, and a little overindulgence in tequila wasn’t about to change that any time soon. “So, fun. What do you want to do?” “Fuck all that shit,” echoed Lin with a nod, as Shai slid onto her feet. He once again marveled at her ability to remain upright, especially now, after nearly half a bottle of tequila. He knew he was inching closer toward the danger zone, where he’d hardly be able to stay on his feet at all. The heat he felt coming from his own face told him he was as flushed as he was lightheaded, but it didn’t matter. He’d have to stand up at some point. It might as well be now. After a mini-pep talk, the boy pushed himself to his feet, somewhat woozily. He kept a tight grip on the edge of the table and smiled brightly at his friend as she stood, looking at him, asking what it was they should do. Lin spoke as he began his journey to the living room. He glanced over his shoulder at the woman. “Move toward the couch, I think. That way, if we want to go out, the door’s right there. And if we collapse, well, there’s a TV, too.” It was all very rational and well-reasoned. Lin was quite proud of himself as he flopped onto the cushions of the couch. "Couch is good," Shailee said after much thinking, realizing that along with the bad things, regular thoughts were coming a little slower now too. Perfect. She followed Lin out of the kitchen towards the living room, landing close enough to almost be on top of him a split second after he had dropped down. "We still have plenty of tequila left, so how about we kill the bottle first, and worry about the going out part." Shailee loved to party, but this night was mainly about spending time with Lin, and she wasn't very picky about where she did it. Lin was just as much fun one-on-one as he was parading out in public. There really was no losing here. Lin laughed at Shai’s very thoughtful response. Couch is good. He looked up at her, just in time to nearly be crushed as she all but fell on top of him. Pushing her lightly to the side, he sat mostly upright, with the back of the couch doing 90% of the work of keeping him from falling over. Sometimes sitting was hard. “Couch is good, Shailee,” affirmed the boy as vehemently as he was able, shifting. They were positioned in such a way over the crack between the cushions that they were rather forced to sit cheek to jowl, but that was fine. Lin laid his head against the back of the sofa and lolled his head slightly to look at his friend. In the same mock Russian accent (that’s what it sounded like to him), he nodded. “Killing bottle too is good.” He smiled, and only then realized how close they were seated to each other. Lin gave Shai a long look and picked his head up from the sofa. His side was warm where she was pressed up against him. Moving swiftly (and therefore, making the room spin about like a top), the boy repositioned himself on the couch cushions, rather forcing his friend to accept his head in her lap, his knees bent and feet pressed against the arm of the sofa. "Lap is good," he said. Shailee wrinkled her nose, aware that Lin was clearly mocking her. “Whatever, Alesi. You try to be articulate when you’re the one carrying three fourths of the tequila weight in the relationship.” There was nothing like a little dramatic effrontery to get Shailee’s head back in the game. She pulled the bottle out between them and laid her head back against the couch cushion, taking a moment to enjoy the sensation of being in such close proximity to someone she actually liked. His swift pivoting skills caught her off guard, giving her only a moment to raise the bottle out of the way before his head plopped onto her lap. She looked at him seriously. “Lap is good, but no nap for you tonight.” Her accent shifted unconsciously for a second to resemble the soup nazi from Seinfeld. “Laps are good for when we’re watching movies in sweatpants, not when we’re dressed to kill.” She brought her knees up until she could get a hand under his head and pushed him into seated position. They were still positioned in the middle of the sofa, bodies leaning into each other to stay upright. “Now, the way I see it, we have two options. Option one: we finish this bottle, call a cab, and try to go pick up some hot bitches with our drunk faces on. Option two.” She reached out, tracing the curve of his cheekbone with her thumb. “We forget the other hot bitches and get our drunk faces on right here.” “Butthead,” was Lin’s sharp, clever response as he was forced to sit up gracelessly once again. He shot Shai a glare over his shoulder, but remained sitting with his back against her side, listening as she spoke. When she’d laid out the options - go out or stay in, her thumb brushing his face, he smiled and shifted on the couch once again. This time to sit with his back against the arm opposite Shai. He was now facing her, his legs drawn up and crossed on the cushion between them. In truth, there was only one option. It would be stupid to pick option one, after all. How often was it that a beautiful woman, who was one’s friend, sat in such close proximity, a mostly empty bottle of tequila in hand, and a very specific look in her eye? Not too, sadly. “Darling, my drunk face is already on,” he replied in his best simpering voice, waving a hand in front of his face to emphasize the drunkenness apparent thereupon. He then lifted his shoulders in a shrug and gave Shai a sly smile. “Anyway, I told you -” He raised his eyebrows for emphasis, moving again, this time tucking his feet up as he pulled himself closer to the woman next to him. Lin leaned in close, until their faces were inches apart. “If you want to fuck me, you can just tell me.” Shailee shook her head slightly at the insult, but otherwise refrained from reacting to it. She could see the wheels in his head turning - or at least imagine it thanks to her current condition - and liked where his thoughts were heading. She had been a little more obvious than usual, she knew, but she was drunk and he was Lin and Shai couldn't care less about appearances when those two were put together. "You're damn right it is," Shailee replied with a smirk, certain that her own face looked just as flushed to him. Her brows raised to mirror his when he slid in closer, but she stayed her ground, the new, determined, proximity sending a thrill down her spine. "Oh," she whispered softly, before tilting her head to the side. "Is that what you told me? I must have not been paying attention." She leaned in closer, to where their lips were almost touching but she could still look clearly into his eyes. "Baby, I always want to fuck you. You know that." Those were the only words he needed to hear. Lin was unaware of Shai’s overtures being too overture-y. He had been first preoccupied by the bottle of tequila and catching up, and then, recently, by the overtures themselves. After giving his friend a shifty, mischievous sort of smirk - the kind Aubrey hated -, the boy closed the inch or two between them. The color in her face was high, as she thought, but it only managed to make her all the more attractive. Her eyes were bright and had a devilish glint that was simultaneously pleasing and terrifying. (One ought never trust Shai when she had that look about her, Lin had learned - the hard way.) The fraction of an inch between them closed when Lin’s eyes finally broke from Shai’s and sank to focus on her near perfect lips. He pressed his mouth to hers. He moved slowly, though there was heat behind his actions, hands finding the slim curves of Shai's hips. Of course, the woman was in the lead in this situation, and they both knew it. Lin was simply getting things started. Well, continuing things along - the bottle of tequila had done the starting. But that was neither here nor there. All that currently mattered was what was happening now, the feel of Shai's body against his and the way her hair brushed his face. Everything else was inconsequential. |