Re: Quicklog, Ocean's 11 (Lake Mead): Graham R & Shane A
Ain't got to shut up. [Graham grinned, all mild-like with an undercurrent of teasing. Shane was just lucky he didn't get smug and start throwing out make mes like they were back in grade school. Sometimes he felt real old, but other times he felt like he didn't have one damn care in the world. The latter hadn't happened in a while, but it was happening now. Maybe it was being in a tent out in someplace secluded, or maybe it was learning to let some things go, but it was what it was.] Asshole. [He added it last second, an echo of Shane's particular brand of affection masked as insults.
He wasn't good at this either. Hell, truth be told he had no idea what he was doing. There'd been that one time back when the three of them'd gone dancing and they were all drunk, and Clem had been teasing them for a long while, but none of those things were this. A long, long time ago there was Lore, and that damn Halloween party, but those things weren't this either. When Shane shoved at his chest he let himself be shoved, rolling onto his back, and he didn't know whether to laugh or shrug it off.
The answer came before he could decide either way, when the next thing he knew Shane's too-warm palms were on his jaw and yanking him back in. Sure, maybe now he was a little flustered from the taste of alcohol, the scratchiness, the heat, none of it anything like it was with a woman. But hell, wasn't that the point? It just was. His face was hot, and it felt like it was spreading down to his neck, but that wasn't enough to make him pull away. He shifted forward in defiance of the elbow to his chest, fingers winding in Shane's shirt in case he tried shoving him again.] You're real pushy. [His voice was mock accusing, and he added a little more teeth to the kiss.]