Re: In-person, Marvel: Shane/Clem
Shane could fucking take, yeah? It didn't seem like it most of the time, because he just didn't fucking bother. But, whether it was youth or it was fucking realizing it really wasn't a fucking bother, he did it better now than before or whatever. Graham in the tent, Clementine on the bike, and when she fucking parted her lips, he took the opening. He took, yeah? She smelled like the fucking perfume section of JC Penney's, fragrant and up the fucking nose like inhaling the color pink. Okay, that was fucking exaggeration, and the truth was, he liked it, yeah? Fucking feminine, and he liked Graham—he liked fucking Graham—but, the soft give, he liked that too or whatever.—There wasn't any fucking alcohol on him, not today. Cigarettes, yeah? Cigarettes over fucking mint now as he leaned hard into Clementine, one hand finally reeling in from the fucking handle to meet low on her back, above plaid or whatever, but shoving below tight fucking denim.
He laughed when she did, into the fucking kiss, yeah? More at her fucking surprise than anything, because he was an asshole, but it was whatever, because after that, he forgot to be a shit. The sidewalk wasn't a good fucking place for this and neither was the road, because he got all of fucking a couple seconds into it, into a slow, fucking kiss with slanted tongue, when horns fucking started up. That hand pushing below those too-tight jeans lifted to flip whoever the fuck off, and Shane didn't stop what he was fucking doing.—But, a few more seconds, and giving some cabbie the bird was going to end up with them getting their asses tossed in a cell or whatever, so Shane pulled back, rough, gruff, and he told Clementine, "Hang the fuck on."
He waited for her to fucking cinch around him or whatever. Then he squealed the bike the fuck up, over the curb, and flipped off the drivers that went by complaining with their horns. He parked them right the fuck next to some building barely a couple fucking blocks from Clementine's place, but it was whatever. His thighs were wide over the saddle, and he pulled her the fuck up onto his lap, if he could, the bike leaning to one fucking side. "I don't think it's fucking ladylike to sit on some fucker's lap outside, yeah? Fucking vanilla, but let me fuck you in a fucking bed for once."