A/N: Prompt from Brooke on AO3 - Eric and Tris get stuck in an elevator together.
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"Why on earth did this have to happen on today of all fucking days?" Eric growled, jabbing uselessly at the unlit elevator buttons once more. His thumb pressed the plastic "door open" circle half a dozen times before I finally had to step in and smack his hand away.
"Dammit, you're going to break the panel, Eric," I hissed. "Just… give it another minute." I looked warily up at my fellow Leader, ready for whatever his reaction would be. He was so unpredictable. Even after months of us working together, I couldn't always tell what he was thinking. He could go right back to slamming on the panel or maybe - every once in a while I got lucky - let it go.
The blonde scowled, but he did relent in his assault against the control panel. "Fine," he replied. "But if you screw this up for me - so help me God, Prior - I will make you spend the next six weeks in the control tower partnered with your ex."
The thought of spending a single shift - nevermind weeks of them - with that controlling pain in the ass made my stomach flip. "Come on," I sniped back, putting a hand on my hip. "You can't honestly blame me for the elevator breaking down." After a second I added, "And that's not even a fair trade."
He rolled his eyes. "You're right. I should make it six months," Eric threatened. "I'm missing the one inter-faction event that I actually enjoy going to."
I had to throw my hands up in the air, completely flabbergasted. "No on was making you follow me back upstairs," I shouted. Honestly, I couldn't understand why he was blaming me for his own stupid actions.
Eric's mouth opened and closed as he struggled to come up with a suitable response. When none came, he just shook his head and settled back against the railing, glaring at the spot over my head. "That's what I thought," I grumbled under my breath. I didn't even care if the bastard heard me.
An uncomfortable silence fell between us as we both considered our options. The event we were supposed to be hurrying off to was an annual affair. Important officials from each faction met together, had some food and drinks, and addressed concerns casually rather than through stuffy ambassadors. Of course, the stuffy ambassadors still came along and generally discouraged all the handshake diplomacy, but that didn't stop it from happening.
I had pretty much stayed out of the way last year - diplomacy wasn't exactly on my mind so few months after the siege on Abnegation - and avoided all the conversations with the folks who only wanted to talk about my family. In fact, this year I had pretty much the same plan. Stay out of sight and hide out at the bar. What Eric enjoyed about the event, I would never know.
"At least it's just the two of us stuck in here," I murmured, looking about the elevator. Nothing had changed, of course, but I felt weird just staring at him across the small space. "We don't have Shauna chatting our ears off."
A smile twitched across Eric's face before his scowl returned. "Yes, thank the stars we're just stuck here by ourselves. That makes it so much better to be missing out on an open bar sponsored by Candor," he drawled sarcastically.
I jerked my head to look back at him. "That's why you're so pissed to miss this? Because you can't piss off Jack Kang's people by drinking all their liquor?" I asked incredulously. I couldn't believe it. I mean, I could, but it seemed like a low blow even for Eric.
He shrugged a single shoulder. "What can I say? They give us a hard time about 'excessive' budget overages," he explained. "Bastards don't understand that machining new tools and firearms is expensive."
"Or requisitioning more spotlights for Friday nights after another whiskey bottle incident?" I replied, matching his snarky tone.
Eric pushed off from the wall and stepped closer to my "side" of the elevator. "Come on, Prior," his voice was suddenly low. "Everyone has a good time on Fridays." Flashes of memories spark up, unbidden. Low lights. Pounding electronic music. Rounds of shots with the other Leaders. Drunken, hazy dancing. Hot lips pressed against inked necks.
I cleared my throat and shuffled past him, reaching out to the elevator control panel once more. "I know that," I reply tightly, trying to ignore the flush that was surely all over my face. "I wasn't saying… You know what, forget it." I pushed a hand through my hair, trying to pretend I wasn't redder than a tomato.
Eric chuckled, taking my spot against the elevator wall. Taking a deep breath, I tried to collect myself. We were stuck together in a metal box. The sooner we figured out a plan, the sooner we could… not be stuck together. And we could both get wasted and go back to our normal dynamic.
The control panel in front of me was still dark, even after I tried pushing the emergency buttons. "Oh damn, I wish I had thought of that," Eric said with mock cheerfulness. I didn't even spare him a glance, rolling my eyes before addressing the closed doors.
"Okay, so there's a pretty good chance we're between floors," I said aloud, mostly for my own benefit. "But we might be close enough to either floor to get out." I wedged one hand into the crack of the door, praying that I wasn't about to lose a few fingers in the process. Slowly, carefully, I pulled the heavy metal doors apart.
Inch by inch they separated, revealing a strip of...concrete. "The floors are rather tall in this section of the facility," Eric grumbled from behind me. "So I'm not surprised that we're stuck smack between two of them."
The strain of holding the doors apart made my arms twinge with pain. I carefully peeled my fingers off of the edges and jumped back. They slammed shut with a thwump, closing off our view of the plain grey concrete. "So, what now?" I asked, turning to look at my fellow prisoner. "We just...wait for someone to realize the system's down?"
Eric's fingers drummed anxiously on the railing behind him - it was the only tell of his that I'd figured out - and shook his head. Once again he stepped forward, but his attention was locked on the ceiling tiles rather than me. "I don't fancy waiting around for the second shifters to figure out anything's wrong," he said slowly. "So let's make our own destiny, shall we?"
I snorted at that. Since when did Eric talk like that? Correction - when did Eric talk like that without being four shots in? Still, I watched intently as he reached up for one of the ceiling tiles.
Eric reached up, fingertips just brushing against the metal surface. He grunted, lifting up on his toes to gain that extra few inches of reach. I tried not to pay too much attention, but my eyes were drawn south as the edge of his black shirt slipped farther up his stomach. My stomach fluttered and I had to bite my lip to keep from making an inhuman noise as his toned abs slipped into view.
"Tris, get over here," he grunted, his arms and heels dropping back down. Eric's eyes sparked with some new idea. I guess that was another one of his tells that I'd figured out over the past year.
I swallowed hard and stepped to join him in the center of the box. "What?" I asked curiously, drumming my fingers on my pants.
He jutted his jaw back up at the metal ceiling. "I'm going to lift you up and we can climb up to the next floor," he explained gruffly. "Then we can grab a car and make it in time for after-dinner drinks."
Of course he was still obsessing over the liquor. That was fine. I wanted to leave just as badly, even if it wasn't to just get free booze. I nodded, examining the tiles quickly before gesturing at them. "Okay, so boost me up," I sighed. "Then you can get to your precious whiskey."
Eric cupped his hands together, letting me step up onto them. I had to grab onto his shoulders to steady myself. A flush raced across my face when I realized that he was pretty much staring right at my chest. "As enjoyable as this may be, please dear God don't take too long," Eric grunted. "Despite what your friend Christina might tell you, you girls are freaking heavy."
"Shut up and worry about not dropping me," I hissed.
Embarrassed didn't quite seem strong enough to cover how I was feeling, but somehow I struggled through. It helped that I got to step - hard - on Eric's shoulder with one heavy boot in order to reach the ceiling properly. Unintelligible mumbling sounded from below me, though I caught something that sounded an awful lot like "godawful tease."
I shoved the tile up roughly and poked my head out of the elevator car. The shaft was almost pitch black save for the cone of light shining up from the elevator. "I don't know if this is going to work," I called down to Eric. He didn't respond. So very helpful. "I can't see anything and I'm not too keen on falling down an elevator shaft," I reasoned.
I pulled my head back out from the opening and looked intently at Eric. "Can you let me down?" I asked, irritated. He still had one hand wrapped around my thigh and his other around my foot in a death grip.
"Sorry, I was just trying to keep you from falling and injuring something other than your pride," he breathed. In retaliation, he let go of me completely, and I would have toppled over had I not reflexively grabbed for him. My arms wrapped around his shoulders and I found myself clinging tightly to a very tense Eric Coulter.
It wasn't an unpleasant experience, I had to admit. He was comfortably warm and I could feel the coils of his shoulder muscles through the thin fabric. The toes of my boots grazed the ground, but my arms refused to let go of him.
He cleared his throat once and raised his pierced eyebrow. I didn't let him say whatever sarcastic comment he was revving up to let out. Instead, I twisted one hand through his short blonde locks and tugged his face to meet mine. My lips pressed against his, suddenly ravenous.
I nipped at his bottom lip, teasing him before capturing him in another kiss. Cool metal pressed against my back as he pushed me against the wall, something in him finally waking to match my fervent motions.
This was nothing like Friday nights.
I couldn't stop my hands from wandering. First I raked through his stupidly handsome hairdo, then I clawed at his back, chuckling against his jaw when he hissed from the pain. "Fuck, Tris," he breathed heavily. He renewed the intensity of his assault, his lips trailing hotly down my throat to suck at the dip of my collarbone. My hands fisted his shirt tightly and my hips bucked against his.
That only encouraged him even more and his own hands moved from bracing against the elevator wall to ensnare my hip and neck, pulling me even closer to him. I tugged his mouth back to mine, kissing him with the kind of intensity I'd never even dreamed of in Abnegation. Hell, even Four didn't spark this reaction in me when we had been going strong.
The stray thought had a sobering effect on me and I jerked my head back. Eric growled - literally growled - low, in the back of his throat, and I swallowed back a wave of desire. "Eric," I managed to whisper quickly before I was distracted by his warm breath on my ear.
"Mmm?" he purred, nipping at my earlobe. I had to suck in a few breaths before I was composed enough to continue.
"Why- How did this happen?" I breathed, my eyes closing as his fingertips gently ghosted across the small of my back. God, why was I even asking? Did it really matter?
Eric sighed heavily, resting his head against the wall next to me. "Well," he started slowly. "I think it's probably because of the constant flirting back and forth." His hand stilled its slow movements, though it still rested on my back, radiating warmth. He still didn't look at me, though, staring intently at the wall even when I turned my face to his.
My heart was pounding in my throat and I swallowed hard. "I didn't… We weren't flirting," I whispered defiantly. There was just no way I was attracted to the stubborn, headstrong, pain in the ass Eric Coulter. The denial was easy to cling to, but Eric's warm body against mine was enticing.
He chuckled, shaking his head slowly. "You sure about that? Maybe you should be more careful about who you feel up when you're drunk," Eric murmured. "Or at least-"
I interrupted him for the second time in the past few minutes, silencing him with a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth. "I get the picture," I replied quickly. "Just...shut up."
Eric finally turned to look at me, cupping my face in his hands. He looked me over carefully, bringing about another flush. A tiny smile spread across his face, invisible if you didn't know what to look for. "And if I don't?" he questioned curiously.
"Then I'll make you," I replied snarkily. With that, I pushed against his chest and forced him against the wall. I intended to show him exactly what I would do to keep him quiet - or at least not speaking coherently. Eric let out a breathy groan, his hands moving to pull my hips to his.
The last thing I wanted to have happen was the elevator floor to lurch violently. And the car resume its descent back to the ground floor. Unfortunately I had no say in the ways of the universe.
Eric seemed undeterred by the sudden motion, pulling me into a tight embrace and capturing my lips in a passionate kiss. Once again I found my hands tangling in his short locks. He didn't break off this kiss, deepening it with a gentle probe of his tongue. My lips parted and I hummed with pleasure as Eric slowly, sweetly kissed me senseless.
I didn't let go of him until I heard the door chime. A groan rumbled through Eric's chest and I had to echo the sentiment. My forehead rested against his and I tried to collect my scattered thoughts. "Well this is interesting," a surprised voice sounded from behind us.
My heart suddenly lept to my throat and I whirled around so fast that I could barely untangle myself from between Eric's legs. "Sergeant Richards," I stammered quickly, running a hand through my disheveled hair.
The redhead was somehow more composed than I was, a feat in and of itself for the junior officer. He grimaced and looked pointedly above both of our heads. "The elevator was out of service. But I can see that wasn't a problem for you folks," he commented with false cheerfulness.
Eric stepped up at this point, smoothing his shirt casually and hooking one arm over my shoulders. "You're enjoying your assignment back at the compound, right Richards?" he asked sharply. "Better than driving trucks?" I hid a smirk behind my hand, choking back laughter.
The sergeant paled visibly and became very interested in how his shoes were laced. "Much better than being on truck detail," he managed to spit out.
I met Eric's eyes before throwing a smirk at Richards. "That's fantastic to hear," I said cheerfully. "Great job fixing the elevator. It would have been just terrible if someone had been stuck inside that whole time."
Eric's fingers twisted around mine, leading us finally out of the damned elevator. We left Richards standing uncomfortably in the doorway, and he flinched when the door slid into his shoulder. Before we left the hallway, I tugged Eric into an alcove.
"Tris, I know I'm immensely attractive - positively stunning - but we do have a dinner to get to," he said in a low voice, leering at me. I jabbed his chest with a finger playfully.
"I know that, you asshole," I teased right on back. "Just wanted to give you a sneak peek for when we get back." Where this boldness had come from, I wasn't fully certain, but hell if Eric was into this, then I wasn't going to let me be the one holding myself back. Or something like that. All I cared about right then was that it was fun.
I wound my hands behind his head and tugged him down to meet my lips. He returned the kiss eagerly, sighing softly against my mouth. I nipped at his bottom lip, mimicking the low growl he had made in the elevator.
Eric's hands clawed at my tank top, fingernails digging into my back. "You know, we could always show up a couple more minutes late to Candor," he whispered into my ear.
"And miss out on the open bar? Blasphemy!" I teased, slowly disentangling myself from his arms. Eric let out a low grunt of dissatisfaction, but he let his hands drop back to his sides. I gave him one last kiss and nip on his earlobe, catching his piercing between my teeth. Then I forced myself to turn and head back to the hall.
"I've said it before and I'll say it again - you'll be the death of me, Tris Prior," he called out before jogging to follow me to the garage.
A/N: Hope it was everything you dreamed it would be, Brooke!
Also, Sgt. Richards is an OC from Prove It, which is why they make the comment about driving trucks. This fic doesn't fall into the PI universe, but I like to think that Richards still was stuck as a truck driver for forever even in this universe.