"Don't touch me. We're fighting."
Becky rolled her eyes, "Dean, it's a game." She watched him swing his head away from the screen and glare at her.
"This is Super Smash Bros, Becky. It's not just a game."
She sighed affectionately as she turned back and knocked his character off the side of the map again. She heard him curse and try pushing the buttons harder. Becky loved Dean, but they were a highly competitive couple. Always trying to outdo one another. It had ruined their third date when they went bowling. They had only planned for one game then to go see a movie. They ended up staying until closing time just so they could find out who would win best of nine games.
So they usually tried to avoid competitions, but Dean had found his old Nintendo and brought it out of the box and demanded she play him in Super Smash Brothers. A game she was really good at, but her lovable boyfriend certainly didn't need to know that.
She almost effortlessly knocked his character out again. She could feel Dean's anger thrumming through his body. She smirked and leaned back into the couch, crossing her legs. "You know, the point is to stay on the map."
Dean swung around again to glare at her, "Zip it, Lucky Charms."
Becky chuckled, "Dean, just accept that I'm way better at you than this."
Dean ran a hand through his hair, sighing in frustration.
Becky loved getting the upper hand on him in competitions. She could hold it over him for months. It was the sweetest victory. He'd looked like the most adorable disappointed puppy, and she got to win at something. Double whammy. Time to make him suffer a bit more.
"Maybe you just need the proper motivation, Deano." He glared at her for the nickname he hated, but he called her Lucky Charms so he can suck it. "So, since I want a challenge, every time you knock my guy off I take off a piece of clothing. Think you can manage it?"
Dean raised his eyebrows, "Really?"
Becky smirked, holding out her hand to shake, "I promise."
She watched Dean nod and shake her hand. No sooner had he placed his back on his controller than his character flew forward and decimated hers with a series of moves. Her character flew off the screen and Becky's eyes widened. She sat up and stared at the television before she looked over at Dean. That little bastard had a smug look on his face. He turned to look at her, trying to look innocent, "Promise is a promise, Irish."
She glared, but took one of her shoes off. Okay, he wanted to play? That's fine. She came to play. She watched her character spawn, but not five seconds later it was flying off the map again. Becky grunted in frustration throwing her other shoe off. She watched it happen three more times, her losing both socks, and her shirt.
He sat back, the epitome of relaxation, killing her character again. He whistled at her, "What's it gonna be, Irish? Jeans or bra?"
She turned to glare at Dean, "You hustled me."
Dean shrugged, "Maybe I just needed the proper motivation." He gazed at her, all dark and hungry, and she had to suppress a shiver at his intensity. "So? Jeans or bra?"
She gulped, her head swinging towards the game, before going back to Dean. She smiled at him, "Why don't you come here and decide for me?" She watched him move towards her, his hand crawling up her side before tracing the strap of her bra. She felt him begin to tug, and that's when she struck. She pressed the button to unlock her characters most powerful attack, sending his off the screen and declaring her the overall winner. She cheered as Dean's head snapped to the television.
He groaned and fell back on the couch, his head in his hands. She giggled and danced around the living room. Try to hustle a hustler? Nice try, Ambrose! After she finished with her victory lap, she went back over to him. He was still bemoaning his loss and she gently ran her fingers through his hair. "Aw, babe. I'm sorry."
He looked up and glared at her, "No, you're not."
She tried not to grin too widely, "No, I'm not. But, I was thinking. I'm the winner and I should get a prize right? And you're the loser, but losers still get consolations prizes…" Dean stared at her blankly for a second before sighing and standing.
"What am I gonna have to do this time?" That hadn't been the reaction she'd been hoping for. She nudged him so he'd look her in the eyes.
"No, Dean. Prizes," she nodded her head towards the bedroom in an over exaggerated motion. "For both of us."
She saw it click in his mind and he grinned devilishly at her, "You know, I think that's the best idea you've had today. But let's get one thing straight, Irish."
She looked at him curiously, before she squealed as he hauled her over his shoulder, beginning to carry her to their bedroom, "You ain't no consolation prize, and I'm the real winner here."