(For Kimberlyn. I can't believe I did this shit.)

Dave's panting nearly had you reconsidering.

You were currently straddling him. Both of your shirts had been discarded amongst his room. The lights were off, yet moonlight made his chest gleam appetizingly, sweat beginning to coat it.

You knew that your genius plan would leave you without sex for the night, and would possibly land you with having to sleep on the couch for the next few nights. Yet, your prankster blood had you demanding to go through with the task. All that you needed was stuffed beneath the large blanket that topped your bed. Said blanket was scrunched up beside you, just within your reach.

Dave was plenty distracted enough for you to begin. His sunglasses had slid down his nose, revealing his beautiful crimson eyes. Those cherry-colored irises moved back into his skull as his hips rolled, grinding his clothed erection into yours. Sharp breaths with the occasional "Ah – damn" and "Fuck, John" escaped his kiss-bruised lips.

Your control was nearly snapping as his short nails ground down your sides and to your hip bones. Get it together, Egbert, your mind whispered, barely audible over the part that definitely did not want you getting it together. He won't be that mad. Letting a small gasp leave your mouth, you leaned forward and flicked your tongue along his collar bones, nibbling at them and gently blowing over the moistened area.

Breath catching, Dave's hips thrust up harder against yours while you continues lapping up the perspiration that had gathered in the dip that his clavicle made. His eyelids fluttered shut. Reaching beside you, you grabbed the container that hid under the duvet, trying to open it one-handed. Dave's hands slid from your hips to the front of your jeans, trying to get them open and release your aching hard-on. You couldn't let that happen. If his hands were to make their way into your pants, you'd be done for. Rolling your hips harder into his and sucking at the area connecting his neck and shoulder, you successfully distracted him for the moment.

When you finally had the container opened, you held in a laugh as you slowed your thrusts. As imperceptibly as you could, you dumped small amounts of the contents of the container into the caved area above his collar bones, closing the jar and returning it to its place beside you.

His grinding slowed. "The Hell…?" He asked, not yet opening his eyes. You sat up and grabbed the bag under the blanket, unrolling it. Dave heard, and his thrusts came to a stop, his eyes cracking open. They widened significantly as he looked at you, then his collar bones.

Keeping the straightest face you could manage, you grabbed a tortilla chip from the bag and dipped it in the salsa that had been emptied behind his clavicles. Dave's eyebrows furrow and his eyes narrow.

"What the fuck, Egbert?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," is your reply, and you eat another chip. "Mm. Spicy."

Sleeping on the couch, you decide, was totally worth it.