Harry Ryan has two first names (sybarite) wrote in repose,
Re: MJs Place: Harry/MJ
[Fuck. He could like, see it happening. This wasn't even real time anymore, he could see the entire unravel, the whole house of cards slip-sliding down. The cards hadn't only collapsed, but they were on fire, and Harry wasn't sure he really had what it took to pull the trigger on the extinguisher. It was too old school, it was too familiar, it was too fucking MJ. And yeah, he'd been young and dumb once, but that didn't change the way he'd felt about her, the way he was realizing that he still felt about her when she crammed in close and lithe, easily within the parameters of too many memories.]
What's that? [He asked of the echo back to high school. He didn't know there were that many different ways to get drunk, not enough to really section out a 'favorite'. There were different kind of parties to get drunk at, sure. There were cul-de-sac keggers sectioned off to garages or basements. There was the outside-the-city antics of something lakeside. There was the Homecoming game, tailgated within the parameters of the parking lot. She was real close now, and his hand fell on instinct or habit to her hip. Not that she needed steering or steadying, not that she needed anything. Maybe just a distraction, which he'd concluded was the reason behind his invite over.
The ex pushed away, and there was a barbed wire snag of want, of familiarity, that peeled Harry away from the bathroom counter like he had every intention of following her, wherever she wanted to go. But they might not be going anywhere, and that wasn't any kind of scrape to Harry's plans… he wasn't the kind of guy who operated around schedules or plans. He liked music and dancing and getting fucked up just as much as the next red-blooded American male, but the city was a long drive away. Meanwhile, MJ and her bottle of vodka were right here. Like reading his mind, MJ turned, her body and that bottle back in his path of destruction.] Um… [She offered, and he shrugged nonchalance as he took the bottle from her for a swig.] We got liquor and music here, right? We can make our own club. [He swallowed the burn of warm vodka and exhaled through his teeth with eyebrows pitched into wincing arches when he passed it back to her.] Totally VIP and shit.