Back to SR1 again, and this is just an excuse to write something silly and happy based on these two prompts.

Describe
26. One borrowing the other's clothes
27. The pair entertaining themselves on a rainy day

It was one of those days where Stilwater decided no matter how nice it was, it was going to pull a one-eighty and drench the hell out of you. This was, of course, one of the days when she and Troy had also opted to go back to his place on foot, so after a few minutes of running down the street they gave up and just walked the rest of the way. Neither were dry, and neither would be again until they found their way inside.

She wrung out her hat, and then her ponytail while he messed around with the keys to his door, and she knew she was still going to trail in a bunch of water behind her. Troy ran a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes, and cast an amused glance at her as she pulled her hoodie off.

That was the most waterlogged item on her, and she frowned. "I don't think we planned well for this."

"Tough to when it does that. Could be worse."

"How?"

"You could be a fan of white."

She smacked him in the arm and he grinned at her blush. "Proper gentleman, my ass." He pushed the door open and gestured for her to enter first. She rolled her eyes. "And being one now won't help any either."

"Why?" he asked, closing the door behind them once they were inside. "Not looking for one?

Spinning on her heel, V's hair followed her movement and nearly slapped him. "Do I ever?"

"Sometimes."

They were still close enough to the door for them to avoid soaking the carpet, and V tugged off both of her boots. "Well, that depends too," she teased, throwing her hoodie on top of them.

"On?" Troy got his shoes off while she stretched her arms over her head, and she didn't miss the way he was following her movements.

"If you have anything that isn't soaking wet to wear. I'm kinda shit out of luck here." Her tank top clung to her, and her denim shorts were going to be a bitch to dry. "Help a girl out?"

She pulled at his clothes first, managing to get his shirts over his head before he kissed her, and by the time they reached the bathroom neither of them were caring much about the line of things left behind. The shower was warm, but nowhere near as warm as his hands or mouth, and she let him press her against the glass as he focused on getting a sound out of her.

Her hand wrapped around him as he moved his lips over her neck and he paused as she stroked him slowly. She kept on moving as his eyes closed, and let go only to press a hand against his lower back. She angled her hips upward as they slid against each other and her shaky moan was drawn out as he took up her pace.

Soon after he was on his knees, his hands moving up her thighs, and she couldn't pretend to be silent anymore. Not with the way his tongue licked into her.

Her fingers ran through his hair, pulling it almost too hard to bear, but he didn't stop, not until she was half-bent over him, gasping for air.

One of his hands started stroking himself at this point, and she groped for him as he settled her onto his lap. He was already hard enough to groan at the slightest touch, but she kept up a quick pace, one that left him with his face in her neck as she got him just as good as he got her.

It was messy, but she licked whatever she could off of her hand before giving him a dirty smile. That always earned an interesting look from him, and she ducked away from his eyes as she got to her feet. "I can't trust you with showers."

He stood up and reached for the bar of soap beside her. "Is there anything I can trust you with here? I'm running out of options."

"Oh, shut up," she said, stealing the soap away. "You're the one who dragged me in here first. You always do."

"You seem to like it well enough," Troy said, his voice rough in a way she'd never get used to.

His lips brushed against her ear and she leaned back into him. "I do, don't I? Think I might need an additional reminder, though."

He grinned into her neck and she let the soap slip out of her hand.

"I'm staring at three pizza places, and I know we've done two of these before," V pointed out, scanning the numbers. She picked at the hem of Troy's old T-shirt, and stretched her legs out so they could rest on the coffee table. "Want to try the third, or just go for what works?"

"What did we do last time?" he asked, somewhere in the kitchen.

She thought about it for a second. "I think we did Steve's. It was okay."

"Try the new one then. Pepperoni's pepperoni, right?"

"You say that, but I still can't order anything Chicago-based."

She dialed the number, and he frowned as he walked over towards the couch with two beers in hand. "Because that's not pizza. People think they can pile whatever they want in a pan, bake it, and slap cheese on it, but at the end of the day it's nowhere near it."

"Why do you think they call them pizza pies then?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. The guy on the other end picked up just as Troy opened his mouth and she held up a hand. "Hey, I'd like to get a couple of pies to go..."

He touched the bottom of one of the bottles to her bare thigh, and she yelped right in the poor pizza guy's ear. "Motherfu-shit, sorry. I've got the order right here."

Troy shrugged off her scowl like it was nothing as he turned the television on, and casually tilted his beer back. She rattled off what they wanted, and once she hung up she stole the remote.

He let her flip through them in a huff for a while, curled up far enough away from him to stay out of range, and she eventually caught something that made her light up. "Oh, fuck yes." A bar fight had erupted on the screen, and Troy stared over at her. "You are about to see a cinematic classic."

"Classic?" Everyone continued to beat the shit out of each other, and he watched it unfold skeptically. "This classic have a name?"

"Roadhouse," she said, turning towards him with her hands raised. "Patrick Swayze is a bouncer that is summoned to one of the worst bars in existence. It's a total shithole, but he takes it on himself to root out the corruption and bring order back. ...While also ripping a guy's throat out on the side. Classic."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," he said, flatly.

"I couldn't make this shit up if I tried." V lifted one of his arms up to wrap around her and he pulled her close. "Just give it a try, okay? I'm sure it's not like you've never seen a 'so bad it's good' movie before. We all have one."

He sighed. "True. It just seems a little...counterproductive to use your spare time to relive the experience."

"Hey, some of these really are classics. Squirm, Manos: The Hands of Fate, C.H.U.D., hell, I could go on all night about this. Please tell me you've at least seen Troll 2."

"V, you're killing me here," Troy said, wincing.

"Okay, okay. Fine," she conceded. "If we get through half of this and you're still not digging it I'll find something else. Deal?"

He slowly turned back to the movie and drank the rest of his beer, looking relieved. "Deal."

The first thirty minutes weren't too bad, but he made a variety of faces at the screen that she wished she could commit forever to memory. They were just as ridiculous as what they were watching, and he gave her a look when she actually started laughing herself. It probably didn't help when she started quoting bits either, but bad habits were still habits.

"You know you didn't have to actually agree to this, right?" she asked, glancing up at him.

He played with the end of her braid and took a long drag of his cigarette. He'd lit one within the first ten minutes, but it still had a way to go. "You sounded like a movie producer trying to give a pitch. I think if I'd said no you would've pouted the rest of the night."

"I wouldn't have."

"V, I know you. It'd be bad. Besides, after three beers I think I have some idea of what's going on."

"Aside from what I told you earlier? I don't think so." She ran her fingers over his arm and he hugged her against his side. "But thanks. It really is kind of a shitty movie."

"Only twenty to thirty more minutes to go, right?"

She groaned."Almost. Almost had me there."

The buzzer went off ten minutes later, and he dragged himself away from her so he could get the door. As the only one wearing pants at the time it just seemed wise, and she took the opportunity to stretch out along the cushions.

It only took him a few minutes to drop the boxes off in the kitchen, but when he came back around he leaned his elbows on the back of the couch. The shirt was riding up around her stomach now, and she knew Troy was weighing his options.

"Pizza's getting cold," she said, resting her head on her arm. He shrugged and she let her lips curve up. "You're awful."

"You're gorgeous. Your point?"

Her face heated, and she had to break eye contact. "Flatterer. You should know better."

"Maybe, but you're still smiling."

She swiped at him as he escaped back to the kitchen, and she hopped off of the couch to follow him.

The movie didn't matter much after that.