Bloodlust
She didn't come.
He's looked over the entire fucking house and there isn't a single flash of blood-red hair.
So he decides he might as well kill Curly Moran tonight, the posters of Arron Echolls' movies on the walls just burn his blood.
It's incredibly easy to get the PCHer's to do his dirty work.
He slips out of the party with ease and is watching from a distance, in a car he stole from the party as the PCHer's work over Curly.
He used to like the man but he likes his freedom better.
Fucking Weevil, stupid biker with a heart of gold bullshit. He's sparing Curly, well he can't have any of that.
He flashes his lights and the teenagers scatter like cockroaches. The suv does a neat job of finishing off the already weak man. Magic marker on his hand should confuse the police. He heaves the body onto the hood of the car and speeds towards the cliff.
It sets his body on fire in a way that makes him sure that he's all kinds of wrong, it heats his blood like the idea of Mac doing bad things. He know he must be really messed up because in his mind as he drives back to the party Mac is in one of those black lacy numbers with the strappy bits that hold up stockings and she's siphoning money into an offshore account and the illegal act is probably heating him up more than the skin and lace.
He ditches the sweater in one of the closets and starts to wander through the party, solidifying an alibi if needed.
A flash of blood-red.
Fuck.
He stops dead, Mac is standing talking to Logan. Oh god, is she asking about him? I mean she could not be, they could be talking about anything, but Logan's hand lifts and points directly at him a smile on his face.
He turns around to see if there's someone behind him she could be looking for, or the keg, or a bathroom. It's just wall.
"Hey." She greets him and his body is on fire, residual heat from the murder and a renewed rushing of blood at the sight of her. Loose brown and red hair, a standard ringer, red on white, and a skirt, it goes to her knees, so much longer than the belts those whores Dick entertains wear. Naked legs that disappear into ratty chucks. She's amazing.
"Hey...you made it."
"Yeah, someone said they wanted a companion to make fun of people with and then was nowhere to be found."
"Hey not fair, I looked for you for like an hour." He let's slip and her eyes widen and he can feel his face get hot.
"An hour?"
He shrugs and looks away. He is examining the paint on the wall beside him when something warm slides into his hand. Eyes wide he looks down and finds her hand in his, her fingers pushing between his.
Oh god she likes him.
His lungs burn with the need for oxygen.
"So how long until the sodomy starts?" She asks leaning against the wall beside him and looking around. He knows that she's talking about the party but it almost sounds like an invitation. One he finds himself itching to accept. And the era of being frozen is over because he's seriously considering making a joke, a Dick joke.
He makes a show of looking at his watch, "usually in about fifteen..." He looks sideways at her and she's focused on her chucks but her hand is hot and secure in his.
He wants to touch her.
Like properly touch her, like he's sure no one else has, he wants to ruin her, "you want to get out of here?" He asks holding his breath, she looks up at him and her eyes are so great full of ideas and intelligence and a wonderful dash of insecurity that binds them.
She nods and let's him led her through the throbbing party. His body is still alight with violence and he just wants to get somewhere with her and press their bodies together until it hurts.
"Did you get your car?" She asks as the crisp night air hits them.
"Oh shit," he turns to her, "no."
She pulls keys out of the pocket of her skirt and they head down the block to her car.
He stops her with his hand, pulls her back to him, they're alone enough.
"Wha-" he doesn't let her finish, he presses his mouth firmly on hers, dropping her hand so he can feel out the curves of her. He thanks god that she responds to his touch, she bites his lip and he opens his mouth for her, a rush of blood south, he pulls her closer to him as she pulls his tongue into her mouth.
He's not sure how they make it to her car but they do, she breaks contact with him long enough to slide into the minimal backseat of her car.
Backseat.
Thank you god.
He climbs in after her and his hand climbs her leg.
"Cindy." She tells him firmly, or as firmly as she can when her voice is a breathy beautiful mess.
"What?" He pulls away from her to look at her properly, his chest is heaving and his fingers are on fire, her skin burning him up.
"It's my name."
"I thought you said-"
"Cindy Mackenzie." She looks away from him and pulls her hands away from his shirt, "I thought you should know my full name...considering..." She looks at him quickly, "oh god, that's not where this is going is it? You totally don't care what my name is." Her eyes are wide and all insecure and fragile.
"I care!" He tells her quickly, "I totally care." And he finds that for once he isn't lying, he really does care, because Cindy is something different, a new animal that makes him feel, makes him normal, "If you want to...I don't know...maybe actually," he rubs the back of his neck nervously and focuses on her collar-bone, "go out?"
Her hot hands are on his neck and pull him forward onto her mouth, he has to throw out a hand to grab onto the back of the passenger seat to keep himself from tumbling to the floor.
She's got one leg up and trapped between his body and the seat, the other running along his near the floor, her skirt is pushed up by the manoeuvring of his body and he finds himself pressed against her core.
Fuck.
He's hard and pushing against her and her leg is twining around his and her mouth trails away from his to his neck and christ maybe she has done this before because christ he's having trouble forming complete...
He moves the hand not holding him off the floor between their bodies, running up the soft burning silk of her skin to her breasts. A little line of frilly lace against her chest and he can't help but grind down into her.
A soft gasping moan of a thing escapes her mouth and vibrates across his skin.
"Cindy..." He moans as her hands reach the waist of his jeans, his hand running across the cup of her bra, pressing perhaps harder than he should into her, but she arches up into him.
"Cassidy." She moans quietly and fuck if that isn't the greatest things he's ever heard he doesn't know what is.
The sound of motorcycle engines vaguely register in his mind under the heat of Mac's body, he looks up to find that they have honest to god fogged the windows.
Her mouth leaves his skin to renew its efforts against his own and he chances removing his hand from the headrest now that her arms are wrapped around him, to slide under her shirt to knead her breasts, she's biting his lips and her fingers are pressing roughly into his skin. She's a little rough and he loves it, it means he can be a little rough with her. He removes his hands from her breasts and loves that she makes a frustrated sigh into his mouth.
He wraps his arms around her and pulls the pair of them against the other side of the seat so she's straddling him. The added weight of her body pressing down onto him is incredible and painful and fuck he finds himself moaning into her mouth.
"Cindy...I want...oh god." He whispers against her skin, her hands are working on his belt, her mouth nipping at the skin of his neck, "please." He practically begs, he wants, needs her to touch him.
If she doesn't he's sure he'll die.
The zipper of his jeans gives way and he's straining against the opening, her fingers are so close.
The relatively quiet night is destroyed by the blast of police sirens.
They destroy the intimacy of the car and Cindy flies away from him like he has the plague.
Fucking cops ruining everything.
"Umm I guess we should get going." She tells him suddenly shy, shifting her bra to properly contain herself.
"Yeah..." He shifts himself back into his pants and does up his fly, his eyes glued to her and she pulls her skirt back into place. He misses the view of her underwear and he's disappointed, he wanted to know if she'd wanted him as badly as he her.
They slide into the front seat and she rolls down the windows and starts towards his house.
He thinks she might be magic. Because this is the first time he's ever felt like a normal teenager, the pairing of her and violence seems to do a number on his libido (like making it exist) and he just wants this to always be the case.
It's a short drive and he's shifting awkwardly in his seat, his blood is still mostly in his pants and his skin is too hot even with the chill night air rushing in.
"Uh...so..." Cindy starts, pulling up to the door again.
He leans over and kisses her soundly on the mouth, "I'll see you tomorrow Cindy." She colors when he says her name.
"Okay." She nods and she watches him get out of the car and he can't help but wonder if her eyes are drawn to the tent she's made of his pants.
Dick is of course in the front foyer when he opens the door. Please let him say one thing bad thing, one tasteless joke, just one jab, he's all stoppered hormones and decking the blonde asshole might do him some good.
He killed a man tonight and got inches from third base what can Dick do to him.
"Ghostworld again? Logan said you went off with her at the party." He's leaning against the wall and his eyes drop to his pants before looking back up at him, "she blue ball you?"
"Cops." He tells him simply and Dick nods like he's had the same problem before and there's a brief moment where he feels like Dick actually understands him. Dick doesn't say another thing but theres something off about him as he follows him up the stairs.
He needs to take the coldest shower humanly possible.
A/N: So i'm pretty sure I need to move this to M cause i'm pretty sure the bases were not vague enough to be in T.