somethingwithturquoise | MHA #4; Saturday Evening [03/11].

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MHA #4; Saturday Evening [03/11].

Having Annie back had been such a relief that Summer hadn't even really realized how much she'd been suppressing how worried she'd been until she didn't have to worry anymore, and the tension she'd been carrying on her shoulders got a whole lot lighter. And since it had been fairly early when she did come over, Summer was able to use that evening after she left to get some good ass sleep and woke up feeling...well, there was still a lingering trace of a hangover in there, but it was reduced to a dull murmur rather than the intrusive roar it had been yesterday.

And then she was thinking about the fact that her mere two glasses yesterday, bolstering her girl talk with ice cream instead, had barely put a dent in the amount of sangria she had made for last night's original plans, and then the remade plans with that guy from Tinder she'd been jerking around with rescheduling, and figured, fuck it, he was getting jerked around a little more and she canceled, with the promise to really make it up to him if he was willing to meet up on Monday instead.

Like, really make it up to him...

And, with that squared away, she felt a...slight moment of hesitation, before sending out another text:

u still have those cupcakes?

[[ for the recipient of said text, of course~ And it gets a little NSFW-y, who would have ever thouuuuuught?? ]]

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"Well, I mean," said Summer, that confidence waning slightly as she really took a moment to consider what she was up again, "one is a gorgeous ancient vampire and the other is God."

She didn't know what the fuck Tiny was supposed to be, so she was just going to skip him.

"So.....pretty tough competition there."

"He's a very pretty vampire but you're you," Stark said softly. "I would choose you over both of them."

Was that too sincere? Too late now. Better drink some more sangria to cover up that excess sincerity.

There was a blink, a very quick dismissal of an obviously ludicrous thought, a very quick sip from her glass, and then a very incredulous, "Even at the same time?"

And then, an executive decision, with Summer moving to try and take Stark's glass from his hand. "As your bartender, I think it's my duty to cut you off now, Stark, you've clearly been overserved."

Stark sputtered for a moment. "I don't want that!"

And Lucifer was very taken and had never shown any interest! Eric had shown plenty of interest though.

"And I haven't had too much," he protested, reaching up with his free hand to catch Summer's wrist before she could take the glass. "I just...it's true."

It wasn't about actual possibilities, Stark, it was clearly just a hypothetical!

But there was nothing hypothetical about that intercepted grab, and Stark's hand around her wrist and the fact that the reach had brought her very close to him. She felt a flush start rising to her cheeks as she looked at him, but made no effort to move away...yet.

"Well, I guess," she finally managed to get out, "if we're factoring in personalities, they are both insufferably arrogant dicks with incredibly childish conflict resolution tendencies for how fucking old they both are..."

Said with the utmost love, you guys! For real.

It would have been a more appealing hypothetical a few weeks back.

"I haven't spent much time with Lucifer," Stark said. "At least now he's stopped calling me a priest."

He hadn't let go of her wrist yet.

"Eric isn't too insufferable. Him I've spent more time with."

Awkward moment to bring that up.

And Summer wasn't exactly trying to take her wrist back, either, although there was a part of her brain that was kind of wishing she could set down her own wine glass because this situation definitely seemed a bit...precarious, and she was mostly just sort of holding it away at awkward angle.

But most of her brain was desperately trying to work up something, anything else to provide another counterargument with, but she was having an incredibly difficult time thinking right now.

"....and still me, huh?" was all she managed to get out.

"Still you," Stark confirmed.

Eric had even offered last night, Summer!

"I'd always rather spend time with you."

He was looking too intently at her to notice her glass. At least the couch was very stain-resistant?

She'd gotten this couch for a reason.

Summer was quiet for a moment that wasn't really that long, but probably seemed to stretch for an eternity for the both of them, all things considered, before she asked, "Stark?"

Stark knew he probably ought to let go. He still hadn't. He was just gently holding her wrist and looking at her.

"Yes?"

The sangria, Summer reminded herself. If I really am getting this all wrong, I can always blame it on the sangria.

And the break-up, too. People did a lot of dumb shit after a break-up. Hell, she'd even thought about tracking down Hemorrhage at some point...

She licked her lips for a moment, because they felt impossibly dry all of a sudden and it was a shame her glass was all the way over there at this odd angle that she wasn't about to move from now, because, fuck, she could really use a drink of it right now. Her eyes dropped a moment toward Stark's lips, too, as if sort of planning something out before they lifted back up to his.

"Are you thinking," she finally asked, "about kissing me right now?"

"I..."

That was very direct, Summer.

"I shouldn't be. And I wouldn't. Ever. Unless..."

His voice trailed off and he just looked at her, not quite staring at her lips. He wasn't going to ask if she wanted him to. He didn't want her to say no.

And that was even more of a frustratingly dodgy-ass, spineless sort of entirely Stark answer that she almost wanted to solve her awkwardly-holding-my-wine problem by upending the entire glass over his head. She almost wanted to hold him accountable for that I wouldn't. Ever.. But she didn't really wanted to test the integrity of the stain-resistance of her couch and she was way too vulnerable right now to want to think too much on the implications of what he meant by that I wouldn't. Ever.

But what she actually did was let out a frustrated sound somewhere between a grunt and a groan, closed her eyes, pressed herself into him a little bit more for good measure, and murmured out, "Just fucking do it already, you fucking coward."

Edited 2023-03-11 23:54 (UTC)

He had only meant that he would never even consider trying something if he weren't absolutely certain that was what she wanted.

He was, right now, certain she did.

"Do this?" he whispered before leaning in to gently, so gently, press his lips against hers.

Definitely could stand to work on his phrasing around someone who was really struggling to come to terms with the weight of feeling so utterly unwanted in the wake if ending her relationship, but, clearly, tgat wasn't the only thing he could be working on.

"Like you fucking mean it, Stark."

Just ignore the soft sound that escaped and the way her body seemed to melt against his once their lips touched.

"I promise you I mean it," he murmured against her lips.

He didn't want to spill any wine but he wanted to kiss her more. He let go of her wrist only to move that hand to the back of her head so he could prove he meant it with a much more thorough kiss. He was very eager to prove he meant it.

Summer would grant to him that the sangria did present a challenge in really being able to reach that bar, and she had every intention of fixing that particular obstacle very soon, but at the moment, Stark was doing very well with what he had to work with, and she certainly wasn't going let that go unrewarded. And every time she thought she would break away to take care of it, she found herself just digging back in for more, her own free hand supporting her by resting against his chest, but briefly, before her fingers went clinging to his shirt.

A soft, pleased noise escaped Stark's throat and he let his hand drift down to her back so he could press her closer to him.

His grip on the sangria glass was becoming increasingly tenous but his grip on Summer was very solid.

"Wait, wait, wait," said Summer, flattening her hand against Stark's chest again as she pushed herself away, just a little, both from Stark's firm hold on her and from not really wanting to, but at this point, the sangria was far more of a hinderance than stopping was. "Hold on."

With that, Summer made for another reach for Stark's glass with her free hand, took a moment to chug down whatever was left in her glass in about three gulps before leaning away (using that hand on her back for some great leverage) to set the glasses on the coffee table.

And look at that! Now she had both hands, and they didn't even spill a drop.

Well, maybe a few drops. Not that you could tell, because the couch was doing its job.

"Okay," she breathed out, "better."

So she was going to make the most of having both her hands to cradle Stark's face between them as she went to kiss him again.

Stark had made a noise of protest when Summer pushed back, worried that somehow he'd done something wrong.

When she returned to her original position (perhaps an even better one) he relaxed. "Much better," he agreed before returning that kiss, even daring a tiny nip at her bottom lip.

His hand on her back bunched in the fabric of her top and his newly empty hand went immediately to her hair.

It was definitely a better position, and that nip on her bottom lip inspired both a smirk. "So much better," she murmured. Her hands moved away from his face, one drifting down to his shoulder, clinging onto it tightly as she pushed herself even closer, the other sliding to find the back of his neck to help her with deepening that kiss as she returned to it with earnest.

Stark was very tempted, at this point, to try and pull Summer into his lap. Instead he let go of her shirt so his hand could drift a little lower and slide up under the hem of the shirt. Touching more skin was definitely a good choice.

He wasn't planning on breaking off the kiss any time soon.

With the brush of Stark's finger against her back, Summer let out a small gasp, interrupting the kiss briefly, but she returned to it quickly with a low, appreciative groan. And, not one to let him have all the skin touching fun, her hand on Stark's shoulder dropped down along his torso, until it reached his waist, where it worked its way underneath his first so it could find his stomach.

And, boy, would this be a helluva time to find out if Stark was ticklish.

Stark was not ticklish, at least not there. He responded by sliding his hand farther up her back and burying his other hand further into her hair and softly groaning out her name.

"Mmmm." At the sound of her name, Summer hummed softly against Stark's lips and shifted a little, just enough to better accommodate to these roving hands, and if she just so happened to have pressed her chest against Stark's a little more than necessary in the process, then, oh well. Couldn't have been helped.

"Stark," she said his name in return, grinning as she pulled back from the kiss, enough to grin at him, enough to look him in the eye, her fingers at the nape of his neck moving in circles, playing at the strap there. "How long have you been wanting to do this for? Be honest."

MHA #4; Saturday Evening [03/11].

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