beyondtheline | Tornadoes and skeletons and nacho dogs, oh my

[Time to towel off again, and finally drain the tub. Man, that's a lot of black dirt at the bottom of it, slowly filtering toward the drain. For a moment, it's like it stays there, resisting the pull of the water, which makes him watch it cautiously before deciding that his head is probably the problem, not the junk they washed off their clothes, and so he turns to help hang things instead of staring at a dirty tub. He shakes the unease off almost immediately and grins at the thought of dancing.]

Yeah! Finally. I feel like it's been too long, since we had to get the hell outta Louisiana. Bet this place has some great nightlife.

[He abandons his now extra-dirty towel to the floor rather than hanging it alongside their wet clothes, and goes to retrieve that joint. After a draw, he returns to offer it to her.]

Besides, that way I can scope out where I'm gonna play, before we leave town.

Exactly!

[Her voice is an excited squeak as she grins up at him, taking that joint so she can enjoy a little of it.]

I don't have to pretend to be your manager though, do I? I can just be in the front of the crowd enjoying the show?

[Because she has a feeling he's going to want to show off. And that means tons of rabid girls trying to get their hands on him or earn his attention. That just won't do. She's so excited about seeing him on stage that she dances in place, feet stomping in excitement as she hums one of his songs.]

Naw, I don't need a fuckin' manager. That was pretty funny though, you did great.

[He chuckles at her little dance, then throws his arms around her and takes the lead as he spins her in the space not occupied by their bags or his guitar on the floor.]

If people here know who we are, I'll figure somethin' out. All I gotta do is hold up the record cover next to my face, right?

[And hope the scar doesn't throw people off too much. And hope he can be seen by whoever it is he's trying to work out details with. But, future problem. It'll be fine.]

[Dancing! She loves dancing. Dancing while getting high is even better, and her head feels like it's floating way up in the void above before to long. She winds up stumbling forward and resting up against him when that happens, and her movements turn into more of a slow sway.

The joint definitely is passed back to him at that point. She's at her limit for now.]

We'll hold an entire bar at gunpoint or threaten to burn them down. Anything to get you on stage.

[As devoted as she is to him and his whims, it comes with her ability to be absolutely unhinged and not even realize it anymore. Their time together has changed how she views the world and how she thinks. So if it takes a fire or guns to make someone give him a chance on stage, then she'll make sure it happens.]

Well, hopefully we don't have to go that far. It's one thing if it's for me, or in another time, but, you know. Gotta act like the band's not just a buncha people who might break all the venue's windows if they say no, if we ever wanna play a real show here.

[He snickers and sways with her, arms draped over her shoulders. He loves her ferocity, and hell, if she wants to threaten to burn shit down, that doesn't cause him any problems. Crazy fans do crazy shit, right? Seems fine.]

'Course, if some asshole stiffed us on pay or whatever, he'd find out real quick not to fuck around. But other than that? Gotta act a little professional now an' then.

[Until someone gets drunk, or high, or stops giving a shit, all of which can and do happen regularly. The four of them can only be somewhat contained.]

Oh, so you can be professional?

[Excuse her for teasing him by sounding skeptical. Her laughter is definitely that of someone that's giddy and high, and she's far too content to just sway in his arms.]

You're just sick of me setting fires. Admit it.

Never, baby girl. Don't think I could ever get sick of it. I'm the one who taught you, remember?

[He grins and twirls his fingers in her hair, then has one more hit off the joint. Hell, the very idea of getting sick of her fires makes him laugh, and he nuzzles against the side of her head and kisses her ear.]

You just gotta see me in a tux, then you'll believe me. I gotta stay professional in that 'cause blood's real hard to get outta white fabric.

[The idea of him in a white tux almost gets her to shiver in anticipation. She can't wait to see him all dressed up and looking professional. Well, it seems like his idea of professional is just not doing any activities that would get blood or ash on his tux. Which is a good enough definition for her.

As he nuzzles against her, she leans her head toward him, laughing softly as she lifts her hand so she can work her fingers through his hair.]

So you're saying if we can find a stage for you here, you'd be willing to put on a white tux?

[She makes a show of trying to pull away from him, like she's going to run off and go find him somewhere to perform right now. Of course, she doesn't actually pull away from him at all, because she's left laughing and moving right back in for a kiss a second later.]

[He'd let her go, but apparently she's actually staying put, and that makes him giggle right along with her until it dissolves into kisses.]

Wait 'til California for that. I don't have mine here.

[And while this may turn out to be one of the good cities - hard to know, early to tell - he's not interested in spending the time finding a new one and having it tailored just to try and play one gig. They'll get him in whatever he feels like turning up wearing.]

But, y'know, we can find me somethin' nice while looking for your next cute little getup. You want a dress? Tight little top an' a pretty skirt? Maybe some heels so you can kick some jackass' nose in?

I want a pretty new dress and heels.

[She confirms, and since he's put the idea in her head and she's high and silly right now she decides to act out kicking in someone's nose. Which requires stepping back and extending her leg up in a kick. One good thing about being a former cheerleader is your kicks are amazing. So amazing that she nearly actually brings her bare foot into contact with his face.

A swinging motion of her leg saves the day in the last second, and she gasps as she realizes she could've just broken his nose all over again. Both hands cup over her mouth as she backs away, and she looks petrified for a second there.]

Oh fuck, I didn't actually kick you, did I?

[He's certain she wouldn't intentionally hurt him, and with pot circulating in his head, his reactions are a little delayed. He flinches out of the way, but it's her own self-control that's probably more useful anyway. Around the same time as he realizes what just nearly happened, she asks that question too, and he breaks down into laughter and stumbles backward onto the bed again.]

No but you came real fuckin' close! Shit, man, you get real funny on weed!

[But nobody got hurt so it's hilarious, and he mimes kicking back at her from over on the bed before he flops an arm across his face, still laughing about it.]

Goddamn you're gonna wreck someone someday with heels on, can't fuckin' wait.

[She's feeling like she's on cloud nine, funny and in love and capable of anything. They're in '67 and things really feel like they're going to be perfect. so she sings. Maybe he knows the song, Nancy Sinatra seems like she'd be someone he'd at least enjoy looking at. These boots are made for walking is sung in between laughs, as she pretends to walk with attitude toward him on the bed.

Of course, she has to change the words a little. It wouldn't be fun if she kept it exactly the same.]

One of these days, these heels are gonna stomp all over you.

[As soon as the words are out of her mouth, she loses it. She's halfway up on the bed, one knee up as she leans forward to steal a kiss. She winds up falling into the bed beside him, rolling onto her back as she laughs it off. Once her laughter dies down, she turns her head to look over at him.

They always have so much fun on their nights out. But tonight's been really great too, just by getting to be ridiculous together in their stolen room.]

[He watches with a hazy smirk as she approaches, leaning up on his elbows for a moment in order to see better, only to sink backward again as she kisses him and tumbles down next to him.]

You got better legs than Nancy. She'd be fuckin' jealous if she met you, I bet.

[He grins at his own dumb commentary and rolls onto his side to kiss her and curl an arm over her waist.]

Sexy red heels an' lipstick with a black dress. You'll knock everyone dead who looks your way. Except for me, 'cause you're all mine.

All yours, and you can look all you want. [She agrees, smirking as she runs her fingernails down along his chest.] And touch. [Her wandering hand stops at his belly button, just so she can try to tickle him a little.]

Did you want to try going out tonight? Because I was thinking we could stay like this. Not get dressed, just mess around all night and sleep in. And then we could try going out tomorrow.

[It would give their clothes time to dry, and give them enough time to sleep. Just in case the hotel winds up knocking and telling them to get lost early in the morning.]

[He snickers and swipes lazily at her tickling fingers.]

Yeah, I think we better stay in, gotta let shit dry. Besides, we drove all night, I don't think much is gonna be open for long.

[He's not tired exactly, but it's late and he's remarkably content to stay put for now. It's been a full night. He'll make it fuller by taking one more hit off the joint, but then he lets that drop onto the bed beside him to worry about later.]

Kinda wanna eat something, though. Let's talk 'em into room service, they gotta have someone around. You want anything? 'Cause I'm thinking steak.

[Good shit. Expensive shit. It's a resort, they better have something good, they can pass the cost on to the "fire department".]

[She thinks that over and takes some time to admire the overhead light while she's doing it.]

I think I want...

[Give her a minute, she's still thinking it over. Her arm extends upward, like she's trying to grab at that light with her hand. She's not able to, of course, so she gives up and lets her arm drape over her face instead.]

I want the most expensive thing on the menu. And french fries!

[Oh gosh, that sounds so good. She sits up, only enough that she can flop over onto him. ]

Maybe ice cream, too. Do you think they have cherry coke here?

I dunno, I hadn't heard of that stuff 'til I met you. But if they don't have it, they better learn to make it.

[Nobody's gonna deny his girl her cherry coke. He grins and runs his fingers lightly up and down her back, then reaches in the general direction of the bedside phone that he can't actually touch from here, especially not with her on him. It's fine, he's not in a major rush.]

Whaddya bet the most expensive thing is? Gotta be some kinda fancy steak, right? Filet mignon or however you say that thing. Or lobster, maybe. We could do an order of both!

We have to order both!

[Excuse her, she's sitting up to crawl over him and grab the phone. It's thankfully able to be moved off the bedside table far enough that the receiver can be handed over to him with only a little effort. He'll order. Her job is to dial the button that gets to the front and straddle him and distract him while he tries to place the order.

She plays nice though, only nibbling along his neck and kissing at his jawline while he tries to talk.]

Don't forget the cherry coke. [She pauses so she can curl her tongue against his earlobe.] And fries.

[He takes the receiver just as she crawls up on top of him, and it's too easy for a second to forget they're supposed to be calling the front desk because she's soft and warm and covering him in affection. But the voice on the other end brings him back to paying attention, and he huffs a quiet chuckle.]

Uh, yeah, hi -

[He pauses and draws in a breath at the touch of her tongue to his ear. Fuck, she's distracting in the very best ways.]

Hey can we order food up? Yeah, I know it's late but lady, we're real fuckin' hungry. We'd like a filet mignon, a couple lobster tails, a basket of fries, an' you got ice cream? Vanilla with strawberry sauce?

[The woman on the other end is apparently taking notes, so they'd damn well better deliver. What's the point of a resort if they can't get anything they like? She doesn't put up an argument at any of that, though, so hell, maybe they're in luck.]

And two cherry cokes. Yeah. Yeah, like coca-cola but with cherry, right? Uhhh. Fuck, hey baby girl, what's our room number?

[Because he sure forgot already, and really can't get up to go look right now.]

[Sighing, she slips off of him and goes over to peek out the door. It's late, she doubts anyone will see her. After getting that room number, she runs back to hop in bed and resume her position on him.]

We're in 427.

[That's whispered into his ear, and she goes back to being distracting. Her little giggles can probably be heard, but she's trying her best not to completely ruin that call. She really wants all of that food, after all.

As soon as he says bye, she takes the phone out of his hand and tosses it onto the bed. And then she's all over him, letting her mouth map out his skin as her wands wander.]

[Goddamn he's never been more happy to have someone throw a phone out of his hands. He arches toward her, then bends a knee and draws his thigh against her side while his hands travel across her skin. One settles on a breast, which he gropes at before working her nipple between his fingers.]

You know what? I fuckin' love you.

[He laughs as he leans up to catch her lips in his, then gets his arms under him so he can sit upward and have her straddle his lap while his hands return to caressing her skin.]

You're just horny for me all the time, aren'tcha?

[His teasing makes her lean back, almost looking a little embarrassed.]

Only most of the time.

[Her retort is accompanied by a blush, but that doesn't stop her from claiming another kiss or two before she figures maybe she should say something else.]

Because you know what? I fucking love you too, and I should be horny for you all the time. I mean, you are for me too, aren't you?

You bet your fuckin' tits, I am.

[He gives her a wink. And shit, he didn't mean to make her feel bad about that, but he can see she's acting a little shy, now. He finds it flattering that she wants to be constantly all over him, that's all, it's a good thing. So before she can sit there feeling too awkward for too long, he leans in to nibble at her neck, and slides both hands down her back until he can squeeze her butt.]

I'm hot for you all the time, babe. If there wasn't so much else to do, I'd fuck you until we both couldn't move anymore. Against the wall, the bed, the floor, the table, the bike...

[Especially while high because man, that's just added fun. Like right now, where nothing else in the world exists except the two of them having the best goddamn night.]

[As soon as he says the word tits, she laughs and shakes her head. That wink only makes her sound more giddy and amused, and she warms right up. It helps that he's touching her, that does wonders to make her sigh happily and shift in his lap.]

Okay, so we're both horny for each other all the time. That's definitely not a problem.

[How could it be, when he's painting such a pretty picture in her mind? It's not like they can physically go at it that often, but it's fun to imagine a world where they fuck so much that they're left unable to move.

Her hands slowly work along his back, before they slip to work along his chest. It's his turn for her to roll his nipple between her fingers, though he's doing a good job distracting her.]

You'll be too tired tomorrow to do anything if we do too much tonight.

You sayin' you don't wanna, or...

[Because that sounds like an excuse. He won't be too tired at all. They've had a couple goes, he can do another. Food and sleep will recharge him just fine.

Like he needs to prove this, he turns them again so he can push her back to the mattress and situate himself between her legs. His eyes roam more than his hands do, for a moment, but then he presses his palm flat to her belly and trails his hand downward until he can grind his palm against her clit.

Girls get to have a lot more fun, something about how they're built, while it'll take him a few minutes to be really ready after the last two, but he's young and eager, and has no problem with giving her a good time for a few minutes first.]

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