Prompt #50: Guess

Warren/Freeze Girl

Word Count: 799

Rating: PG-13

Warning(s): None

"Hey, you should do that thing. Show Warren."

Dolores gave Magenta a sideways look that caught Layla's attention.

"What thing?"

"It's a game," the girl in the purple tank top responded pulling her Ray-Bans down over her eyes against the glare of the sun.

"It's not a game."

The blonde stretched her legs against the grass and turned her face to the sky taking in the warmth. Warren flop onto his stomach in the shade and wondered why he'd agreed to come out to the park to sweat.

It was never good when Magenta called attention to him. He kept his eyes closed and tried to ignore the sweat beading off his back onto the ground under him.

"He's not even paying attention."

Layla was all but telling Magenta to shut up and watch Will kick Zach's ass at Frisbee, like she herself was doing instead of paying much attention to anything else.

Magenta pouted and brushed dead grass off her shorts as she rose to join the fun, the slightest of scowls fading when her boy friend who wasn't her boyfriend caught sight and meet plastic flying disk with his mouth.

The blonde propped herself on her elbows casting her eyes over to the prone shape of the pyro toughing out the ninety degree weather under the foliage.

Eventually when the girl to her side was too engrossed watching her boyfriend fly around without a shirt on. Dolores made her way into the shade and propped herself next to Warren.

"What?"

"Wanna play a game?"

"Thought you said whatever it was you were saying 'no' to wasn't a game."

She lifted her shoulders in a shrug he couldn't see because his eyes were still closed and sighed, amused.

"It sort of is a game, a guessing game."

"Not interested," he mumbled into the ground under his tanned cheek.

It was easier without him looking at her to run her eyes across his sweat streaked back and well-muscled shoulders, the way his arms cradling his head made deltoid and bicep pop, define themselves, made her unable to do anything but desperately want to taste the salt and musk of him.

"Yes you are, you just don't know it yet."

He felt the trail of coolness leaving tracks in the sweat pooling between the dimples between his hips, it was her hair draping over the tops of his arms, neck, shoulders, and down his flank and up again. He sucked a ragged breath and made to rise up and throw a glare at her.

Her knee was on his back before his palms pressed to the ground.

"Nope. Come on, Warren. Don't get all aggressive, the heat makes you slow, like a big lazy cat."

She breathed out a low laugh and it sent a throb like a strumming into his groin. Her hair wafted a cool breeze over his nose, she smelled like lilacs and ice.

"I really don't appreciate being compared to a tabby."

"More like a lion or something."

In his mind he could see her raised up with her thighs settling on either side of his hips, he felt them, he rocked up on reflex, she arched up and away, breasts pressing tight under his scapulas.

"The game is 'guess what it is,' not very complicated."

Then her lips which he wouldn't have minded frosting the inside of his ear for just a little longer lifted away, her breath cooling the heat of the flush coloring his face.

Wet and cold ran a line up his spine and neck, circling and pausing then starting another trail with firm, delicate icy jabs.

His eyes opened to make sure everyone was still occupied with whatever they were doing and not peeking into the woods.

He laughed a small, angry laugh when all he saw within sight was a condensating glass of an ice-cubbed drink that he hadn't heard her put down.

"Ice cube."

The trail stilled and continued.

"Quit it. I guessed right."

The trail curled around his ear and dripped, her fingers letting the ice cube fall into the dirt and knock against his lip. He inhaled when she started again, up his side, around the tight muscle of his shoulder and arm and then as he turned the trail stopped trailing, swirled and then at his ribs he looked down to find her lips parted and teeth grazing against the bone.

He watched her, she didn't let his gaze stop her ministrations. He rasped out something between a growl and a sigh as she curved and bit a mark on his chest into the muscle under the edges of his collarbones, hard and then the suction of her lips and tongue and frost offering cold comfort.

She let him go with a pop.

"Wrong. You lose."

A/N: Thanks for reading