Title: Darts
Disclaimer: I do not own OUAT or OUATiW or its characters.
Summary: Prompted from tumblr. Graham teaching the amateurs darts.
"No, Will, you gotta keep your fingers in line," Graham chuckles, placing the beer bottle along the edge of the coffee table. He steps forward, taking a dart and holding it up for him to see.
"Bloody hell, I'm too drunk for this nonsense," Will mutters, taking another shot towards the wall. It falls softly off-center, resting by, but not on, the firm pencil-lines.
The picture has long since been replaced with one of Jafar, his smug face smirking down at them, but the only clear holes in center of the drawing were made by Graham.
Emma leans against her boyfriend, taking a pull from her own bottle as she grins. "You can't blame the alcohol, buddy. I haven't seen you make a close shot once."
Graham leans over her, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "You're no better, princess."
Her nose wrinkles but she kisses him again. "Some things aren't genetic, I guess."
Graham makes a noise of agreement. "Perhaps we'll have to practice more, on our own."
"You two are bloody nauseating, you know that?" Will says with a roll of his eyes.
The door jangles open, Ana walking in, exhaustion clear over her features as she pushes down the fabric on her demure skirt. She smiles tiredly at the scene. "Darts? Again? I thought you'd given that up."
"Never!" Will proclaims, flying another towards the board with grand flourish and then groans in dejection. He looks up at the blonde with a pout. "At least I'm tryin'."
Ana pulls a beer from the fridge, twisting it open before joining them in the living room. She picks up the red projectile, twisting it between her fingers. Will pulls her close, sloppily kissing her forehead. She grins, wrapping her arms around his waist. "I suppose it's better than other things."
Emma pulls her fingers through the beltloops of Graham's pants, pulling him against the length of her body. "I think it's time to go," she says, smiling up at him. "We need to practice."
Ana and Will both grab the cork coasters to fling at them. "Begone, then! Some couple's night," Ana jokes, even as she pulls her husband close.
Graham's arms are tucked around the small of her back, and he kisses her forehead tenderly. "I think we've worn out our welcome. They'll need to practice, too."
Will quirks an eyebrow but shrugs. "Both literally and figuratively, my friend. Next time, your guy's place. You both leave a mess."
End