Prompt: Insult. 443 words, Darcy/Phil, R.

...

Phil has never really been one for insults. He enjoys subtle sarcasm and almost ironic obedience over outright cruelty. He gives Darcy back her iPod the next time he is in New Mexico.

He gives Darcy her iPod back the next time he is in New Mexico, and she somehow managed to procure his personal cellphone number. Phil is an idiot.

Phil is an idiot. Darcy plays fast and loose with words, teasing and mocking him when he is in Puente Antiguo, sending him nonsensical text messages when he isn't. He prefers the teasing and mocking.

He prefers the teasing and mocking. He responds with cutting cleverness and derision. Trading insults with Darcy is like playing verbal chicken with Jon Stewart, and he loves it. New Mexico is dry and barren, but yet so full of joy.

New Mexico is dry and barren, but yet so full of joy. Phil belittles and Darcy antagonizes, and then he's fucking her against a brick wall behind a dumpster. She tells him he's too old to fuck her properly, and he tells her she's too young to have ever been fucked properly.

He tells her she's too young to have ever been fucked properly, and she tells him to stop being a pussy and show her how it's done. He's still in his suit, her jeans are tossed over her shoulder. Her lips are hot and slick against his, and he shoves her hard into the brickwork. She whimpers.

She whimpers and writhes and pulls him closer, fingers of one hand digging into his butt, the other pulling roughly on his hair. He shoves and gasps and hitches her higher against him, palms pressing hard into her thighs and mouth on her throat. She laughs and encourages and shudders silently against him.

She laughs and encourages and shudders silently against him, as he bites her collarbone and presses her even harder against the wall. She zips him up and pulls him out of the alley towards the abandoned gas station.

The abandoned gas station is where it starts.

It starts in the gas station, and then six months later, Phil is lying on a gurney in an intensive care unit, mechanical heart installed, and lung repaired. He smiles as he sees the dark hair in the doorway, and raises an eyebrow.

"How many times do I have to tell you, we buffed out the scratch on the case?"

"It's the music that matters, not the fucking iPod."

His eyebrow is raised and then his smile is a wide grin, and she sits on the small chair next to the bed and takes his hand.