Title: Lipstick Memories
Author: Rachel
E-mail: Edgechick816@aol.com
Pairing: Molly/Christian.
Disclaimer: Damn you Vince, I don't own a thing, if you sue me all I'll get is a $100 bucks and some outdated tickets to one of YOUR show, so leave me alone. However, the idea is mine
Distribution: Ask me please
Rating: PG
Spoilers None really, Molly's outfit on 10/27 RAW.
Summary: What cosmetics really do to men.
Feedback: Is loved and much appreciated :)
'~*~*~*~*~' denotes beginning and end of flashback
He knew exactly who's fault it was that he was sitting where he was sitting, doing what he was he was doing: That damned lipstick. He could have blamed other things, but no, this was the lipstick's fault. As hard as it may be to blame cosmetics for major life events, this was one of those of the times. He eyed the makeup tube thoughtfully as the memories played back through his mind.
~*~*~*~*~
How did he end up here? Oh, that's right, once again, Jericho kicked him out of his own locker room. Why? So he could have some alone time with a certain raven haired diva. Which left him here, being pitied by the person who so often did when Chris kicked him out. She was standing across the room, putting on makeup in the mirror and talking to him. He wasn't really listening to what she was saying, but more to the notes of her voice when she spoke. Playing like music to his ears, the words would just fall away, leaving him with only the melody her voice portrayed.
He looked over at her again, dear lord, she was beautiful. Maybe it was the jeans and leather jacket she had on, it did something for her, it made her eyes dance and he loved that about her. He loved her curves, sexy smiles and everything that made her. He remembered the first time he'd seen her, she was cute as a button with a smile that could make a grown man melt. And when he finally talked to her, she was as sharp as a whip, much more intelligent than her blonde hair and perky outlook would lead people to believe.
Maybe they had both grown up in the three years they had known each other. Both their looks had changed; she had taken her hair back to its natural shade of brown. His was cut shorter than it had been since high school. She had become more sure of herself, she wasn't worried about what everyone thought about her. Him, he was mellowing in his old age, or maybe, simply he had found something better in her. Despite the changes in both of them, her essence was still the same, the base of who she was, that person he fell in love with, never changed. Now he only wished he had the courage to tell her.
The whole time they were best friends, mostly because he had never tried for anything more, but it didn't seem to bother her. He continued ignoring the way he felt, or the way she moved, or the way his name sounded when it rolled of her tongue. Disregarding it all, only to fall into hazy dreams of what life would be like if he told her.
"Christian, are you listening to me?"
He looked up from his reverie to see her standing there, hands on her hips, and the perfect pout on her lips. Oh God, that pout, a pout that could have made a hundred men fall to their knees. A pout he'd spent hours building defenses against, except one thing was different: That damned lipstick. In a single swipe of colored creme she had weakened his resolve, nearly turning him into a puddle of mush.
"Well, are you gonna answer me?" she wondered, shifting her weight to one foot, folding her arms over her chest. Her growing impatience made obvious by her change in stance. He sat there, watching her in totally amazement. She really did have no idea what she did to him. Her pout was irresistible normally, but that lipstick did something else, it made him want to kiss that pout right off her lips.
"Christian?" she said tentatively, after he didn't answer her the second time. He stood up, not sure what he was thinking, or if he was thinking at all. He moved closer to her, nearing the space between their bodies so that they were only inches apart.
"Christian." she breathed, unsure of what expect. His eyes got darker, the shifting shades of light blue seemed filled with strong desire. Suddenly the room felt warmer.
Hooking his finger under her chin, he tilted her head up and brushed his lips against her, tasting the evil cherry lipstick he blamed for his actions. He deepened the kiss, pressing his mouth fully on her. He savored in the small gasp she gave, which was followed by one of his own when she kissed him back, her arms going around his neck, pulling him flush against her. His hands went to her waist, sliding under her jacket and shirt, running his fingertips across the bare skin. She moaned, returned the favor by teasing the back of his of his neck with her nails. He groaned, he started sucking her bottom lip, she arched against him, stepping backwards till they both fell on a couch, her fingers now toying with his short hair.
He pulled away slowly, his eyes coming to rest on her face, trying desperately to read her thoughts. His thumb traced the outline of her lips. He watched her, just lying there, her breathing still heavy, blue eyes staring up at him, questioning his reasons. In that moment, in his eyes: She was perfect. Sighing as he rolled off her, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, trying to erase the memory of her sweet kiss that was already burned there.
"I shouldn't have done that."
She gazed at him wide-eyed, "What... I..um." words seemed lost on her at the moment.
"I should leave."
"Did you mean it?" she asked, finding her voice. He turned around. "The kiss: Did you mean it?" she asked again, almost afraid of his answer.
Once met her pleading eyes, he knew he couldn't lie.
"Yes, I meant it. I meant every second of it." She rose from the couch, walking over, then wrapping her arms around him.
"Then I don't want you to go." She met his eyes again and smiled.
"But...I... what...and...you..that...kiss...me?"
"Shh," she pressed a finger to his lips, stopping his rambling, "I love you, too. I have for a while, I guess I was to afraid to say anything. "
A smile formed on his face, "You love me?"
She nodded, "Yeah, I love you." Loving the way those words flowed with her voice, he kissed her.
~*~*~*~*~*
Molly came from behind, clasping her hands around his shoulders.
"You know you shouldn't play with that." she said, taking the lipstick from him and tossing it back in her bag. "Who knows what kind of effects it has on the male brain." she teased. He laughed, leaning back to kiss her jaw.
"I guess you're right. You ready to go?"
"Yep." she smiled, walking over to her belongings, grabbing her bag in hand, and Christian's hand in the other. He smiled at the warm feeling. This was definitely the lipstick fault; and he couldn't be happier.
A/N: Reviews make me happy :) go on, you know you want to.
Author: Rachel
E-mail: Edgechick816@aol.com
Pairing: Molly/Christian.
Disclaimer: Damn you Vince, I don't own a thing, if you sue me all I'll get is a $100 bucks and some outdated tickets to one of YOUR show, so leave me alone. However, the idea is mine
Distribution: Ask me please
Rating: PG
Spoilers None really, Molly's outfit on 10/27 RAW.
Summary: What cosmetics really do to men.
Feedback: Is loved and much appreciated :)
'~*~*~*~*~' denotes beginning and end of flashback
He knew exactly who's fault it was that he was sitting where he was sitting, doing what he was he was doing: That damned lipstick. He could have blamed other things, but no, this was the lipstick's fault. As hard as it may be to blame cosmetics for major life events, this was one of those of the times. He eyed the makeup tube thoughtfully as the memories played back through his mind.
~*~*~*~*~
How did he end up here? Oh, that's right, once again, Jericho kicked him out of his own locker room. Why? So he could have some alone time with a certain raven haired diva. Which left him here, being pitied by the person who so often did when Chris kicked him out. She was standing across the room, putting on makeup in the mirror and talking to him. He wasn't really listening to what she was saying, but more to the notes of her voice when she spoke. Playing like music to his ears, the words would just fall away, leaving him with only the melody her voice portrayed.
He looked over at her again, dear lord, she was beautiful. Maybe it was the jeans and leather jacket she had on, it did something for her, it made her eyes dance and he loved that about her. He loved her curves, sexy smiles and everything that made her. He remembered the first time he'd seen her, she was cute as a button with a smile that could make a grown man melt. And when he finally talked to her, she was as sharp as a whip, much more intelligent than her blonde hair and perky outlook would lead people to believe.
Maybe they had both grown up in the three years they had known each other. Both their looks had changed; she had taken her hair back to its natural shade of brown. His was cut shorter than it had been since high school. She had become more sure of herself, she wasn't worried about what everyone thought about her. Him, he was mellowing in his old age, or maybe, simply he had found something better in her. Despite the changes in both of them, her essence was still the same, the base of who she was, that person he fell in love with, never changed. Now he only wished he had the courage to tell her.
The whole time they were best friends, mostly because he had never tried for anything more, but it didn't seem to bother her. He continued ignoring the way he felt, or the way she moved, or the way his name sounded when it rolled of her tongue. Disregarding it all, only to fall into hazy dreams of what life would be like if he told her.
"Christian, are you listening to me?"
He looked up from his reverie to see her standing there, hands on her hips, and the perfect pout on her lips. Oh God, that pout, a pout that could have made a hundred men fall to their knees. A pout he'd spent hours building defenses against, except one thing was different: That damned lipstick. In a single swipe of colored creme she had weakened his resolve, nearly turning him into a puddle of mush.
"Well, are you gonna answer me?" she wondered, shifting her weight to one foot, folding her arms over her chest. Her growing impatience made obvious by her change in stance. He sat there, watching her in totally amazement. She really did have no idea what she did to him. Her pout was irresistible normally, but that lipstick did something else, it made him want to kiss that pout right off her lips.
"Christian?" she said tentatively, after he didn't answer her the second time. He stood up, not sure what he was thinking, or if he was thinking at all. He moved closer to her, nearing the space between their bodies so that they were only inches apart.
"Christian." she breathed, unsure of what expect. His eyes got darker, the shifting shades of light blue seemed filled with strong desire. Suddenly the room felt warmer.
Hooking his finger under her chin, he tilted her head up and brushed his lips against her, tasting the evil cherry lipstick he blamed for his actions. He deepened the kiss, pressing his mouth fully on her. He savored in the small gasp she gave, which was followed by one of his own when she kissed him back, her arms going around his neck, pulling him flush against her. His hands went to her waist, sliding under her jacket and shirt, running his fingertips across the bare skin. She moaned, returned the favor by teasing the back of his of his neck with her nails. He groaned, he started sucking her bottom lip, she arched against him, stepping backwards till they both fell on a couch, her fingers now toying with his short hair.
He pulled away slowly, his eyes coming to rest on her face, trying desperately to read her thoughts. His thumb traced the outline of her lips. He watched her, just lying there, her breathing still heavy, blue eyes staring up at him, questioning his reasons. In that moment, in his eyes: She was perfect. Sighing as he rolled off her, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, trying to erase the memory of her sweet kiss that was already burned there.
"I shouldn't have done that."
She gazed at him wide-eyed, "What... I..um." words seemed lost on her at the moment.
"I should leave."
"Did you mean it?" she asked, finding her voice. He turned around. "The kiss: Did you mean it?" she asked again, almost afraid of his answer.
Once met her pleading eyes, he knew he couldn't lie.
"Yes, I meant it. I meant every second of it." She rose from the couch, walking over, then wrapping her arms around him.
"Then I don't want you to go." She met his eyes again and smiled.
"But...I... what...and...you..that...kiss...me?"
"Shh," she pressed a finger to his lips, stopping his rambling, "I love you, too. I have for a while, I guess I was to afraid to say anything. "
A smile formed on his face, "You love me?"
She nodded, "Yeah, I love you." Loving the way those words flowed with her voice, he kissed her.
~*~*~*~*~*
Molly came from behind, clasping her hands around his shoulders.
"You know you shouldn't play with that." she said, taking the lipstick from him and tossing it back in her bag. "Who knows what kind of effects it has on the male brain." she teased. He laughed, leaning back to kiss her jaw.
"I guess you're right. You ready to go?"
"Yep." she smiled, walking over to her belongings, grabbing her bag in hand, and Christian's hand in the other. He smiled at the warm feeling. This was definitely the lipstick fault; and he couldn't be happier.
A/N: Reviews make me happy :) go on, you know you want to.