This was written as a gift for mine and alphaonefourzero's good friend, jmprofio. We teamed up to make this as a going-away present, since we discovered you were joining the navy sometime this week. We hope you like it!
Bobby swerved out to the side of his lane, honking his horn and yelling obscenities. The other driver continued as they were, half in their lane and half in his. They managed to pass each other without incident, and Bobby carefully felt around for where his phone had fallen to the floorboard during the panic. He grabbed it and sat back up.
Courtney was frantic. "What was that? Are you okay? What happened?"
"I'm fine," Bobby replied, still sort of shaky from the brief shot of adrenaline. "There was just some idiot not paying attention to where he was going. Probably drunk," he added, irritated.
"Those people, I swear." There was a shuffling sound from the other end of the line, and Courtney huffed. "You better not do that tonight, mister. I'll kick your ass seven ways to Solara if I find out you've been drunk driving."
Bobby laughed, strained. "Trust me, I know what I'm doing. I wasn't planning on having more than a single drink tonight. I'm going more for the atmosphere." He cast his eyes down, his voice softer. "I need a break, from all this. Just for a bit."
"I understand, Bobby. I do," Courtney said in a soothing voice. He could tell she was feeling somewhat the same way he was. "We all need a break."
This stupid war had been going on too long. Every time it seemed the Travelers had the upper hand against Saint Dane, he revealed another twist in his plan that set them back a step. It had been years, and everyone was sick of it all. The only consolation they had was that Saint Dane didn't seem to be getting all that much further ahead than they were. They were at a standstill, but neither side could give up.
That's why Bobby was taking the night off. He had turned twenty-one last week, and decided he needed a break. All these years of stress and worry had really taken a toll on him, and he wasn't in the best of places. Both his friends and the other Travelers were worried for him, so the other day, Uncle Press came up to Bobby and told him to take a day off.
"Don't worry about being the lead Traveler," he had said. "You just came of age. Go out one night sometime soon and have fun. You of all people need a rest."
Bobby really hadn't wanted to at the time, thinking they needed all the help they could get, but apparently Press had all the other Travelers on his side with him. Bobby had taken one look at their faces and caved. He could see that they were worried for him, and that if he kept at the rate he was going, he'd run himself into the ground before he stopped. He hated to admit it to himself, but they were right.
He wasn't regretting his decision. He'd hung out at the Ave for the better part of the day, and gone to see a movie with Mark and Courtney. He tried to keep it a calm and relaxing day, thinking that would be better for his fried nerves, but he soon realized he'd become conditioned to the constant excitement and was quickly getting bored. He'd had fun, but when evening rolled around, he'd insisted his two friends go home and let him go out by himself. They protested, thinking he was just going to go get himself back in trouble, but Bobby convinced them he was just going out to the nearby bar for some fun. Turning twenty-one had its perks.
Bobby shook himself out of his thoughts before they could turn down a darker path and concentrated on his driving. He was almost at the little bar he planned to spend his night at.
"Hey, Courtney?" he asked. "If I do get a little drunker than planned, you wouldn't mind coming and picking me up, would you?"
"Of course I wouldn't mind, stupid," she replied, exasperated. He could hear the smile in her voice. "I am your friend, right?"
Bobby chuckled. "Yeah, why'd I even ask. Thanks." He pulled into the small parking lot and turned the car off. "Gotta go," he said. "See you later."
"Have fun, nerd. But not too much fun!"
"Bye."
"Bye."
He hung up and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. The engine clicked, cooling off quickly in the cool winter air. Bobby sat in silence for a moment. No time like the present, he thought.
He got out and locked his car doors, then shoved his hands in his jacket pockets before they could freeze. His breath came out in white clouds and he shuffled quickly towards the doors. He hadn't prepared himself enough for this sharp weather, expecting to be outside only a few moments before finding himself in the heat of the nightclub. The bouncer checked Bobby's ID, then nodded, signaling that he was free to enter.
The noise assaulted his ears as soon as he stepped inside. One of the latest pop songs was playing, the bass reverberating throughout the crowded room, making his chest pound. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust in the flashing strobe lights, and when they did, Bobby headed straight for the bar set to the side of the dance floor. He found an empty seat in between a couple making out noisily and another man passed out, his head in his arms and a couple empty shots glasses in front of him. Bobby squeezed in and waved the bartender over.
The bartender was a tall woman with the spiky green hair. She walked over, setting a cocktail she had just finished making down next to another patron. "What can I get you, sir?" she asked, popping her bubble gum.
Bobby picked up one of the small menus and looked through it. He'd tried some of these before with Mark and Courtney, but only a few of the names were familiar. What he really wanted was a fresh glass of sniggers, straight from Grolo's, but that was a bit out of the question. "White Russian, please," he finally ordered. "Extra vodka." The bartender nodded and left.
Bobby sighed and examined the selection displayed behind the bar, idly listening to the music playing. He felt the man to his left shift; not asleep, apparently. He was going to ignore him as he was ignoring the messy couple on his other side, until the man spoke.
"Bad… heh, bad night, eh Pendragon?"
Bobby immediately went on high alert. Not that many people knew he existed here, and almost none of those people called him by his last name. The voice was familiar, but it slurred from a rough night. He glanced at the man out of the corner of his eye, trying to determine who he was. The man's head was still in his arms, long hair obscuring what might have been visible.
"Who are you, and how do you know me?" Bobby finally asked.
The man giggled, a high-pitched and slightly unbalanced sound. "Why, how could you p-possibly forget me?" He raised his head, and Bobby leaped away.
Saint Dane.
"What are you doing here?!" Bobby shouted, drawing the attention of a few people at the bar. The couple paused in their activities, glancing at him, before continuing. The bartender sent him a death glare from across the bar for disturbing her patrons. Bobby lowered his voice, but kept his fists clenched and ready. "What the hell is your problem? What are you doing here?!" he repeated.
Dane giggled again, very much out of character, and twirled his finger around the lip of one of his shot glasses. Bobby realized with a start that the man was completely plastered. Could Saint Dane even get plastered?
"Same as you, I guess," the demon said. It took Bobby a moment to realize that it was in response to his question. "I needed a break." Bobby was confused. Why would Saint Dane need a break from anything? He was the villain, for Halla's sake! Villains didn't just take breaks from being evil!
"Oh, get that stick outta your ass, boy," Dane said after Bobby had been glowering at the demon for a minute. "I'm not gonna bite." Bobby was startled that Dane would use such vulgar language. He always seemed so poised and put together. Bobby slowly sat back down, keeping as much distance as possible between them. He stared suspiciously at Saint Dane, wondering as to what his intentions were.
Dane called the bartender over again. She grabbed something on her way there and set it down in front of him, then walked away without a word. It was another shot glass filled with a rich amber liquid, that Dane tipped back and swallowed in a single gulp. The number of glasses already in front of him and how the bartender didn't even need to ask what he wanted spoke volumes about how long Dane had been here. Bobby briefly worried about how much alcohol the man had ingested, before mentally slapping himself. This was Saint Dane he was talking about! His arch-nemesis! Why would he be worrying about that demon's health?
They sat in awkward silence until the bartender brought over Bobby's finished drink. He debated leaving it there, not wanting to risk getting even the least bit inebriated in front of his worst enemy, but decided that he was paying good money for this stuff and wasn't gonna let it go to waste. He took small, careful sips, keeping an eye on the demon slumped on the counter next to him.
The pressing silence between them became too much, until Bobby felt he was ready to explode. He considered finishing his drink and just going home, but didn't want to leave the demon here to his own devices. Who knows what he would do? Granted, he didn't look like he could take two straight steps in his current state, but Bobby was partly convinced it was all an act.
He heard Dane humming next to him, and was startled to notice he was humming along to the song that was playing. Bobby cocked an ear and almost laughed out loud when he heard 'It's Gonna be Me'.
"You listen to N'Sync?" he asked incredulously.
Saint Dane shrugged, then began stacking his glasses with one hand while resting his chin on the other. "Living on Second Earth so long, you hear a lot of music," he slurred. "I prefer classical, but I don't think they play that here…" He looked thoughtful, then got this devilish grin on his face. It would have been more effective had he not been slightly cross-eyed, but the point was made and Bobby was concerned."I could always bribe the DJ!"
"No." Bobby shoved Dane back in his seat as he went to stand. The man was so unbalanced he went down easily. He glared at Bobby halfheartedly, but didn't protest. He just went back to playing with his empty shot glasses.
Bobby stared at the man. Saint Dane was not acting like himself. Years of battling him had taught Bobby that Saint Dane never gave up, and trying to keep him from his goals would end badly for everyone involved. Even for something as little as refusing to let him 'bribe' the DJ, normally, Dane would have blasted Bobby off his feet and stormed away to do what he wanted.
"Okay, seriously, dude," Bobby said. "What's wrong with you? You're not acting like yourself. Not that I'm complaining," he added quickly, "I'm just really confused right now. And concerned. But not for you. Er…" He trailed off at Dane's unchanging expression. He was about to wave his hand in front of the man's face, thinking he'd maybe fallen asleep with his eyes open or something, when Saint Dane turned his head in his arms to look up.
"I'm tired, Bobby," he mumbled. He looked… vulnerable. It was a strange expression to see on his face. "I'm so tired. Of this battle. Of constantly losing. Of trying so hard, yet ultimately failing, no matter what I've done. I'm so tired of everything." He was shaking. Bobby watched, horrified and slightly astonished, as his worst enemy broke down little by little in front of him.
"I've tried so hard for so long," he whimpered. "I've been so close to winning, but you Travelers always have to get in my way." He tried to spit the words out venomously, but the crack in his voice ruined the already fragile facade. "Now I'm on the edge of failure, with nothing left to go back to if I lose."
Bobby should have felt jubilant at the admission that they were finally winning, that Saint Dane was almost beaten. But he just felt… a kind of sadness. His once-great enemy, the guy he'd had nightmares about for years, was nothing more than a sobbing mess, drinking himself to death at a dingy little Second Earth bar. It was pitiful.
"Hey, man-" Bobby began. He didn't know what he'd say. How could he comfort the demon? He was literally trying to destroy the universe, not to mention having tortured Bobby and his friends for years. He didn't get a chance to do anything, before he saw Saint Dane fiddling with something in his lap.
"There's no use in it all," he whispered. "I don't know what to do anymore." Bobby stared, shocked, as Saint Dane positioned something long and metallic under his chin. "I'm so, so, tired…"
"NO!"
Bobby panicked and grabbed the gun, wrestling it out of the demon's grasp. Dane's hands were shaking as he lost his grip on the weapon, and his head fell to the table with an anguished cry. He completely broke down then, shoulders heaving with every sob.
Bobby's hands were unsteady as well, his breathing labored. He stared at the gun, disbelieving at what he almost just witnessed. He didn't even stop to wonder where the gun came from. No matter how much he hated the man, he couldn't just sit there as he killed himself!
"What the hell?!" Bobby shouted. His voice was higher than normal, adrenaline still spiked. The bartender and the other patrons glared at him again, but this time he didn't care. He did have enough sense to hide the gun under the table, out of view, but that was it. "W-what the hell was that, man?! Don't do that to me!" He felt like throwing up.
Dane covered his head with his arms again, still trembling. Bobby went against all his instincts and scooted closer to the demon, laying a hesitant hand on his arm. Dane flinched away, but didn't move very far. Other than that, he ignored Bobby and continued to cry.
"W-why?"
Bobby nearly missed the muffled question amidst the pounding music, asked so softly it was barely a whisper. "Why what?" he asked, though he already knew what Dane was talking about. He needed a moment to process his answer.
"Why stop me?" Saint Dane raised his tear-stained face and looked directly at him. Bobby's breath caught at the look of pure despair in the man's watery blue eyes. "Don't you want it to end? Don't you want me gone?"
"W-well, yeah, I want the war to end," Bobby stammered. What was he supposed to do in a situation like this? "And, and you are kind of a dick-" big understatement "-b-but that doesn't mean you should kill yourself!"
Dane shook his head incredulously. "You really don't understand, do you?" he asked. "There is nothing left for me. Nothing! After this, after you Travelers win, where do I go? What do I do? I'll just fade out of existence!" He pushed Bobby's hand off his shoulder and looked down, nearly curling in on himself. "You've already won, just let me have this one last thing. Please."
"No." Dane looked back up at his forceful tone. Bobby was not having any of this. He had stopped caring that this was his worst enemy. He had stopped caring that this was the scourge of everything he and his fellow Travelers had been working for for years. He had stopped caring about all that, and only cared about the depressed man in front of him, right here, right now, who needed his help.
"Look, I don't know as much about all this as I'd like to, but I do know one thing: suicide is never an option." Dane looked like he was going to protest, but Bobby plunged on. "Besides, you'll get the same result either way. One just has more pain and mess involved."
Saint Dane sneered at him. "You're terrible at this. I thought you were trying to prevent me from ending my life."
Bobby shrugged, strained. "Hey, man, there's no denying you've done some pretty screwed up stuff in your life. I'm just saying that, if you think you don't have much time left, you should, uh, make the most of it. You might even have fun." I can't believe I'm consoling my arch-nemesis.
Dane put his head back in his arms, hiding his face, and ignored Bobby. Bobby sighed. He was really bad at this. He fiddled with the gun in his lap, turning the safety back on. He couldn't believe how close he'd been to witnessing a man blow his brains out. His hands still trembled. Bobby slid the gun into an inside pocket in his jacket and made a mental note to dispose of it when he got home, then took a sip of his White Russian.
"You know," he said after a minute. "I think I kinda do understand where you're coming from." He heard Dane scoff, but ignored it and continued. "Not fully, of course. But a little bit. That's the whole reason I came here tonight. To forget."
He was staring at one of the many bottles behind the bar, but saw Saint Dane look up in his peripheral vision. "We've been at a standstill with you for so long, we were losing hope. I was losing hope. I-" His voice cracked. Bobby self-consciously cleared his throat. "The other Travelers were worried about me. I'd been working so hard lately, talking so little. Alder told me how he'd rarely seen me smile these past couple years." Bobby trailed off, suddenly overcome with emotion. He realized just how much his friends had been worrying about him. He shook his head slightly and turned to smile at Saint Dane. "So I came here to get drunk! Just don't tell Courtney." He raised his glass to his lips.
Dane chuckled, and mumbled under his breath "I'm telling moooooom." Bobby choked, spewing alcohol across the table. He grabbed some napkins and wiped it away hurriedly, smiling as Dane cackled hysterically. The laughter was infectious, and soon Bobby joined him. The two leaned against each other, breathless with mirth. Bobby covered his mouth and coughed, trying to clear his lungs of the burning liquid, but he was laughing to hard to do much more than giggle into the napkin.
Given enough dirty looks by the people around them, they soon calmed down. Saint Dane sniffed and scrubbed at his face, rubbing away tear tracks, while Bobby cleaned up the rest of the spilled alcohol. He swirled his glass, smiling at the little bit left, and made a decision. He downed the rest and grabbed Saint Dane's arm.
"Come on, man. Time to have some fun," he said. Dane looked bewildered, but didn't resist as Bobby pulled him to his feet. They navigated towards one of the walls of the club, where there were fewer people. Everyone was pressed together on the dancefloor, jumping and screaming to whatever was playing, but the people on this end were more into light dancing and chatting. Bobby pulled the demon aside and turned towards him. Then he ran into a slight problem.
"Uh, dude?" he asked timidly.
Saint Dane looked down. "What?"
Bobby's ears burned. "Do you, um, do you even know how to dance?"
"Of course," Dane scoffed. "I practically invented the waltz. I've been hanging around Second Earth a lot longer than you think."
"Yeah, but I mean, do you know how to dance?"
He glared. "What, is waltzing not good enough for you?"
Bobby shrugged. "It's fine and all, it's just, this isn't really the place to be waltzing."
Dane huffed and crossed his arms. "It never is anymore," he grumbled. He looked about ready to go sit back down, but Bobby was determined to make this man forget his problems, at least for a night. He planned to try and do the same thing for himself, but both of those things would be hard to do with one of the participants sitting at the bar, moping.
"No you don't," Bobby said as Dane turned to leave. He grabbed the older man's arm and pulled him close. Dane still had quite a few inches on Bobby, but Bobby was a lot taller than he'd been several years ago. He barely had to tilt his head to look Saint Dane directly in the eye. "You're staying right here, and you're gonna have fun if it kills me."
Dane clenched his teeth and looked off to the side, avoiding Bobby's gaze. He mumbled something that sounded like "That would be nice", but it was lost in the loud music of the club.
Bobby knew the awkwardness would only get worse if neither of them did anything, so he decided to start swaying. His grip on the demon's arm loosened slightly, and Bobby's hand slid down until it found Dane's. He laced their fingers together and raised their clasped hands up a bit, then moved his other hand until it was resting on Saint Dane's shoulder. The man subconsciously mimicked Bobby's position, placing his free hand on Bobby's hip. They swayed side to side, not really dancing, Dane still refusing to look in his arch-nemesis' eyes.
The song ended and was replaced with another, this one more familiar to Bobby. He smirked and pressed closer, speeding up the tempo of their swaying. Dane looked mildly panicked, to Bobby's amusement, so he added to the embarrassment by singing along.
"Oh, don't you dare look back,
Just keep your eyes on me,
I said 'You're holding back',
She said 'Shut up, and dance with me',"
He spun Dane around, the man almost tripping over his feet at the sudden movement.
"This woman is my destiny,
She said 'Oh, oh,
Shut up and dance with me!'"
The strobe lights went out, except for faint red ones near the DJ's stand. The couple was thrown into shadow. Bobby felt laughter bubble up in his chest at the way Dane's grip on his hand and hip tightened. His head felt light and his cheeks hurt from smiling so much. The lights slowly started brightening again, and Bobby saw that the other was smiling just as widely. To his surprise, he was singing too.
"We were victims of the night,
The chemical, physical, kryptonite,"
He pulled Bobby close and leaned down.
"Helpless to the bass, and the fading light,
Oh, we were bound to get together,
Bound to get together!"
Bobby grabbed both Saint Dane's hands in his and spun the both of them around. At this point he wasn't even thinking of what he was doing, wasn't even thinking of the fact that he was getting a lot closer to Saint Dane than was good. He didn't care anymore. It was also probably the influence of what he'd been drinking, but who knows. Bobby sang along, near breathless.
"She took my arm,
I don't know how it happened,
We took the floor and I said:"
Bobby watched his dance partner let loose. Saint Dane's inhibitions about 'proper dancing' were gone, and he bounced to the music much the same way anyone else in the club was. His wild black hair kept getting in his face, so Bobby kept having to push it back for him. He was finally having fun, all bad thoughts from earlier gone, for the most part.
"Oh don't you dare look back,
Just keep your eyes on me,
I said 'You're holding back',
She said 'Shut up and dance with me!'
This woman is my destiny,
She said 'Oh, oh!
Shut up and dance with me!'"
By the time the first chorus ended, they were back in each other's arms. All the stiff awkwardness from earlier was gone, and the two were high on emotion. Bobby spun and ended up with his back pressed to Saint Dane's chest, bodies swaying side to side. He felt the taller man's arms encircle his waist, and without thinking, rocked his hips back to tease him. Saint Dane made a noise low in his throat and shifted. Bobby suddenly jumped when he felt warm lips press into his neck. He shivered as Dane's hot breath ghosted across his flushed skin, the smell of tequila hanging in the air between them. He almost missed the next verse, but gasped it out in time.
"A backless dress, and some beat up sneaks,
My discotheque, Juliet, teenage dream,"
Dane whispered the rest of the line into Bobby's neck, and he almost melted.
"I felt it in my chest, as he looked at me,
We were bound to be together,
Bound to be together!"
Bobby gripped Saint Dane's hands where they rested on his stomach hard enough to bruise. He felt the entire length of the demon's body molded along his back, swaying perfectly to the beat of the music.
"She took my arm,
I don't know how it happened,
We took the floor and I said:
Oh don't you dare look back,
Just keep your eyes on me
I said 'You're holding back'
She said 'Shut up and dance with me!'
This woman is my destiny,
She said 'Oh, oh!
Shut up and dance with me!'"
One of the hands on his stomach crept under his shirt and brushed the sensitive skin of Bobby's hip. He felt blood rushing to his cheeks, but any coherent thought he might have made was lost in the heat of the moment. He simply moaned and threw his head back on Dane's shoulder. Saint Dane bared his teeth and nipped Bobby's neck, smoothing the sting with his tongue. His licked and sucked his way upwards, leaving faint bite marks sure to fade before the night's conclusion.
Bobby felt Dane's hand inch lower, little finger slipping beneath the waistband of his jeans. The spot behind his ear was being assaulted, and the tall demon was still leaning most of his weight against him, his body overheated. The combination of sensations was nearly overwhelming, and Bobby felt he was barely holding on to his sanity.
It became too much. Bobby suddenly turned to face the other, ripping Saint Dane away from his ministrations in the process. The demon didn't have time to look confused before Bobby grabbed his face and yanked him down.
Their mouths met in a painful and awkward clash of teeth. Bobby pulled away quickly, hissing from the rough start, but Dane followed and pressed their lips together again. He bit down harshly on Bobby's lower lip, forcing his way into a rough kiss. Bobby felt he should be alarmed or disturbed or at the very least, cautious, but the demon's heady scent was going straight to his already buzzing head.
Bobby tangled his fingers in his enemy's long dark hair and pulled, inciting a deep moan. He pulled again, pushing forward with his body, grinding against the demon's hip and testing his limits.
That, apparently, had been the exact right thing to do.
"Is that a gun in your pocket," Dane growled into Bobby's ear, "or are you just happy to see me?"
Bobby shivered, embarrassed. He suddenly felt self-conscious about what they were doing and went to pull away, but Dane stopped him in his tracks. His hands slid down Bobby's back until they were cupping his ass. Bobby felt light-headed, his heart racing, as he looked into Saint Dane's eyes. Their ice blue color was almost fully taken over by overblown pupils, dark with lust.
"You're mine now."
With that, Saint Dane ground their hips together. Bobby was unprepared and choked on a moan. Their song had ended long ago, but neither were really paying attention, more caught up in the feelings the other's body produced in their own. Dane captured Bobby's lips again, devouring his mouth and pressing ever closer.
Bobby felt the hard metal of the gun dig into his chest, pulling him slightly out of his arousal-induced haze. He blinked rapidly in the harsh flashing lights of the club. Saint Dane was still rocking against him, but Bobby realized the gravity of the situation they were in and pressed a hand to his chest, forcing him to stop.
"H-hey," he gasped, breathing still uneven. "We really need to think this through. Are we actually gonna do this?"
Saint Dane took a moment to clear his head. He must have realized the same thing. He'd been staring at their feet, but when he met Bobby's eyes, there was a spark of desperation in their depths.
"Please," he whispered. "Help me forget."
He went to kiss Bobby again, but was stopped. "Are you sure, man?" Bobby asked. "You've had a lot to drink. You might not be thinking straight."
Dane laughed. "Yes, I have had many more shots of tequila tonight than any normal creature of Halla should consume," he admitted, "but you forget who exactly I am. I'm still a spirit of Solara. I can still make conscious decisions, even when my physical form is inebriated."
Bobby was still hesitant, but Saint Dane's logic was sound. "Well, come on then." He grabbed the demon's hand and pulled him away from the dance floor. Bobby couldn't believe he was doing this. He was actually considering sleeping with with his worst enemy! Man, he had hit a new all-time low. No time to worry about that though.
Bathroom was out. Bobby had never had sex in a public bathroom before and he wasn't planning on starting tonight; who knew how filthy a nightclub bathroom would be. He veered away from there and was hit with an idea. With Saint Dane's hand clasped firmly in his, he stumbled past the bouncer and outside.
His head pounded from the sudden lack of noise. The music from the club was almost gone out here. Inside, the press and heat of bodies had left the nightclub stiflingly warm, while out here, the sharp Connecticut winter chill cut through to their very bones. The temperature difference sent goosebumps raising along their arms. Bobby shivered. He felt Saint Dane huddle close behind him and knew that the demon was just as cold.
The bouncer called after them. "Hey, make sure you guys don't drive tonight!" Bobby waved to indicate that he heard the man, and kept walking. He pulled Dane along to where he had parked his car and fished the keys out of his pocket. He had to let go of the demon's hand to do so, and Dane wrapped his arms around himself to preserve heat.
"Where are we going?" Dane asked. "Weren't you just told not to drive in your current state? Because I'm not driving you home either."
Bobby smirked. "We're not going anywhere." He unlocked the car and opened the back door, gesturing for Saint Dane to enter. The demon looked a the open door, confused, then looked at Bobby. He blushed as he realized the implications. "Oh," he said in a small voice.
Bobby pushed him into the backseat and followed, closing the door behind them. The light went off, plunging the two into darkness. A streetlight across the road gave little illumination, but it was enough to see the dark figure huddled over himself next to Bobby. He considered turning the car on to start some heating, but didn't want to have to awkwardly climb over the front seat to reach it. He pulled the gun out of his jacket and tossed it in the front passenger seat, then shrugged the jacket off and dropped it too.
They sat there, staring at one another in the dim light. As Bobby's eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw that Saint Dane looked hesitant. Now that they were out of the nightclub, he could tell the demon was having second thoughts. Bobby was starting to feel the same way.
"So, uh..." Bobby tried to break the silence. "How- I mean, how do you wanna do this?" He moved, brushing up against Dane's arm. The demon leaned into the touch, avoiding looking Bobby in the eye. He didn't answer. Bobby took a deep breath and leaned forward.
This kiss was a lot sweeter than the one they shared on the dance floor. It wasn't rushed, and though the heat was still there, it was more passionate than bestial. He tilted Saint Dane's head to the side and nudged his lips open, slipping his tongue into the older man's mouth. Dane sighed and shifted, turning more towards Bobby and allowing him to press closer.
They pushed and pulled, a slow and subdued dance, leaving rational thoughts behind. Bobby leaned closer, laying a hand on Saint Dane's shoulder, pushing him back until he got the hint and laid down. They stretched out across the backseat, their mouths only disconnecting briefly for short breaths, before joining again. Bobby felt himself slipping off the edge of the seat and moved, lifting himself above Saint Dane and settling down with his knees on either side of the other man's hips.
He opened his eyes slowly and leaned back, taking in the sight of the man beneath him. Saint Dane's hair was in wild disarray, fanned out on the seat like a dark, twisting halo. His eyes were dark with lust, only a thin circle of shining blue still visible. He was panting, looking up from under half-lidded eyes, his skin flushed and heated, clothes in disarray.
"Beautiful," Bobby whispered, almost without thinking.
He felt the demon's hands slide up his waist, pulling lightly but insistently. Bobby rolled his hips, inciting a groan from the older man. Dane's fingers dug into the other's hip bones, and he pushed up, trying to get more of that friction. Bobby obliged, grinding down even as he leaned forward to taste the demon's sweat-slicked skin. They no longer felt the cold, the heat radiating off their bodies enough to warm the whole car. They didn't speak apart from pants and moans.
Bobby slid down the demon's body, using his knee to nudge the other's legs apart. He settled more comfortably between Saint Dane's long legs. He slowly dragged himself forward on his elbows, looking Dane directly in the eye as he did. The demon caught his breath and moaned at the new angle of friction, breaking their brief eye contact and throwing his head back. Bobby took devilish pride in the fact that he could make the man come so undone, that he held so much power over him, even though his heart was still pounding at what he was about to do.
You can do this, Bobby, he told himself. He was tense with nervousness and excitement, his entire body humming in anticipation. He pulled himself back down again, crouching on his knees as best he could in the cramped backseat, and brushed his nose against Saint Dane's clothed erection. He felt the man flinch underneath him, shocked at Bobby's bold actions. To be honest, Bobby was surprising himself with what he was doing. He nuzzled Dane's inner thigh, warmth radiating from between the man's legs. Dane seemed to subconsciously spread himself wider in anticipation.
Bobby pulled his arm free from where it had gotten wedged between them and the seat and pushed the hem of Dane's shirt up, revealing an expanse of flushed skin. Saint Dane shivered where Bobby's fingers brushed him, and he pushed upwards, impatient with how slowly Bobby was taking things. His earlier hesitancy was gone, replaced with a fervored need. Bobby almost laughed at how insistent the demon had gotten. He decided to finally oblige him.
He unbuttoned Saint Dane's pants and yanked them down, eliciting a startled gasp from above. Ignoring this, he sat up and pulled his own shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor with his jacket. Saint Dane seemed to freeze up as Bobby unbuckled his belt and slowly pulled it off, smirking at the demon's bewildered expression as he smacked the end against his hand. He dropped it too, and gestured at the demon.
"I'm taking my clothes off," he said, voice rough from arousal. "It's only fair you do the same."
Dane leapt into action, hurriedly pulling his dark shirt up and off. It took some interesting maneuvering to get the both of their clothes off, elbows, knees, and heads knocking together more than once. Bobby finally jerked the leg of his pants off his foot, but the momentum threw him off balance, head banging against the window behind him. He yelped and rubbed the sore spot furiously, Dane cackling at his pained expression. The mood was broken entirely, and the two burst into giggles.
"Are we- haha, are we really doing this?" Bobby asked between breaths. He was smiling so much it hurt.
"You've asked that already, idiot," Dane said fondly.
"Yeah, I know," Bobby murmured, pushing a strand of Dane's long hair behind his ear. "I'm just making sure is all."
He was barely able to kiss Saint Dane through his grin, but he did it anyways. They lay back down again, Bobby stretching forward until their chests pressed together. He pulled Dane's leg up, wrapping it around his hip. Dane got the message and squeezed, using that little bit of leverage to thrust their hips harder together. Bobby groaned and dropped his head on the other man's shoulder.
Saint Dane dug his fingernails in and dragged them down Bobby's back, leaving long red scratches that stung like crazy. The pain only heightened the sensations between them, making Bobby positively shiver with arousal. He increased his pace, a piercing heat beginning to build low in his stomach. Dane stretched his neck out, moaning wantonly. The beautiful, unmarred expanse of skin enticed Bobby, who immediately lay claim to it, marking it as his. He bit down harshly, eliciting a groan from the man beneath him, and soothed the wound with his tongue. In response, Saint Dane threaded his fingers through Bobby's short brown hair and yanked.
The feeling in his gut was building, coming to a peak, and Bobby knew what was about to happen. A split second before it hit, he shot up and kissed Saint Dane deeply.
Orgasm washed over Bobby in a sudden wave of blinding feeling. It carried away with it all thought, rushing through his body and stripping him of his strength. He felt his nerves alight with pleasure as his world dissolved and he fell, fell, fell into blissful darkness. He shuddered and pulled his mouth away from Dane, laying his forehead on the other man's chest. Dane stiffened as he came a moment later, then relaxed with a low sigh. Bobby felt the man's heartbeat flutter under him, slowly leveling out.
They stayed that way, entwined with one another, as their breathing slowed. Sweat cooled on Bobby's neck. He became aware of the stinging welts rising on his back from Saint Dane's overly-sharp nails, the demon's hand gently running fingers through his hair, and the warm and sticky liquid quickly cooling on his skin. That last one brought Bobby out of the sleepy haze he was falling into.
He sat up, groaning as he stretched out the kinks in his spine. "On second thought," Bobby said with a rueful grin, "we probably should have taken our underwear off too."
Saint Dane hummed. Bobby shifted, trying to grab his clothes from where he had thrown them, but the sticky feeling between his legs and the tiredness that was sweeping over him made his movements slow and awkward. He giggled absurdly, too tired and high on endorphins to care. He tried in vain to shove Saint Dane's feet off of where they'd fallen in his lap.
"Dude, your legs are heavy. Can you just-" Bobby stopped when he realized why the demon wasn't responding. He'd fallen asleep. Bobby sighed. "Of course he would," he muttered to himself.
Bobby wrapped his arms around Dane and maneuvered the two of them into a better position for him to get his clothes back on. He looked at Dane, sprawled across the backseat and snoring gently. They really needed to talk. There were important things that needed to be said, questions that needed to be asked, like Hey we're mortal enemies and we just had sex in the backseat of my car! What now? But Saint Dane was knocked out, having apparently had a really bad week, and Bobby had had much the same kind of week, and Saint Dane looked so innocent when passed out, so he threw his jacket over the man's exposed chest and decided that the talk could wait a while.
Of course, that brought up the question of what they were going to do in that exact moment. Specifically, what Bobby was going to do to get home. He figured he might be able drive. He hadn't had that much to drink. Then again, his legs were still shaking and he was still pretty unsteady from his... recent activities, so on second thought, maybe driving wasn't a very good idea after all.
Where would they even go? Courtney's house, where Bobby had been staying while on Second Earth? That would be hard to explain. Hey, you wouldn't mind letting Saint Dane crash on your couch for a couple hours, would ya? Thanks!
Nah.
Bobby remembered his and Courtney's earlier conversation, before he'd arrived at the club. She'd said she'd be willing to come out and pick him up if he found himself unable to drive. Did this count?
It would have to; she was currently his only option. Bobby sighed again. He fished around the floorboards for where his phone had fallen and flipped it open. He hit Courtney's number on speed dial and waited. He chewed his bruised lip, watching the demon sleeping soundly next to him as it rang, wondering if he would even be able to return to how they had been before when this was all over. He turned and looked out the window as Courtney picked up.
"Hey dork, how ya doing?" Courtney asked.
"G-good," Bobby stammered, trying and failing to hide his nervousness. "I'm good, how about you?"
"Finally finished that dumb essay I was working on. Man, college is tough." A shuffling noise was heard, then the sound of keys jingling. "Anyways, didja have fun? You need me to come pick you up? You sound pretty out of it."
The moment of truth.
"Heh, you see, there's a funny story there. You'll never believe who I met tonight..."
Hehe, yeah. This story got away from me. It was supposed to be a quick and fluffy three page story of nightclub shenanigans, but then plot happened, and then smut happened. But hey, now I've officially earned my fanfiction writer's achievement badge: first smut story finished!
Stay safe, friend, and come back to us soon. We'll miss you.
