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Author Topic: Sugar, We're Going Down [Solo Oneshot]  (Read 25 times)

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Offline GoblinFae

Sugar, We're Going Down [Solo Oneshot]
« on: February 04, 2018, 10:58:30 PM »
"What the fuck was that bullshit, Feldspar!" A voice barked as the owner of it rounded a corner and hurled their flight helmet into Dashiell's chest. He caught it easily, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips as he lifted his chin confidently to stare down his fiery mage partner. "When I say hold her steady, I mean hold her fucking steady! Dumbshit, I don't need you getting me killed! You want to die, you do that on your own time, you got that?"

Toe to toe with the man, Reese Plantina was spitting mad as they repeatedly jammed their fingers into Dashiell's sternum with each escalating shout. Those in attendance of this spectacle either rolled their eyes and ignored them or whispered gleefully while quietly taking bets. This kind of argument was practically a weekly ritual between the Duo pair. For most that was nothing new to see. For others it was a time to guess at how many things Reese could throw at him before Dashiell finally snapped and fought back.

After years of flying together the record still remained a pitiful three and a half. Reese had managed to lift a heavy case up but hadn't been able to complete the swing when the lid had opened and spilled the contents out everywhere. Avid gamblers therefore always argued whether it counted or not.

Now though Reese was howling their head off, hands gesticulating every which way as they cursed the jockey out much to his and everyone else's amusement. He did nothing to defend himself other than to quietly smirk with crossed arms and let the spitfire rage themselves out. They always did one way or another.

It did not appear that time was quite yet now though as Reese slammed their palms into his shoulders in an attempt to throw him back. Dashiell stiffened but was prepared for the fist that threatened to follow and connect with his check. He caught it and used Reese's momentum to swing them around, their arm between the pair as he shoved them into the side of their jet.

"And that is quite enough, Reesie. Not my fault you're a lousy shot. Should have sung out sooner that you were having trouble, SongBird. Lord knows you sing out about everything else in between," he laughed in their ear before releasing them and taking a swift step back. Dashiell had learned the hard way that standing too close would earn you a well-timed suckerpunch. "Now if you have nothing else useful to squawk, I'm going to get some rack time. Enjoy your weekend, Chirpy!"

Around him the crowd quickly lost interest and returned to their work but Reese wasn't done yet. They stormed after Dashiell, chasing after his longer strides right into the locker room. "You can't just dismiss me like I'm some green-eared subordinate!" they howled in return, latching onto his arm to spin him around to face them.

"Seems I just did. Now if you don't mind I'm going to saunter my way on over to that shower over there and get myself all sudsy clean before I head home. You're more than welcome to come help if you'd like. And by all means come as well," Dashiell leered with a suggestive wiggle of his brows.

For a comment like that he really should have expected the fist slamming into the side of his head. A bellow of pain escaped him shortly followed by wheezing laughter. That shower would just have to wait. Together the pair tussled, struggling back and forth to overpower the other, fists flying and hands grappling for control. Reese was slammed against a locker. Dashiell was knocked back until he tripped over a bench. Over and over they slammed into each other like a pair of magnets unsure if they wanted to collide or recoil.

At some point they ended up on the floor, rolling and clawing at each other as if they had never graduated passed childhood rivalries and schoolyard fights. Reese wrangled their way on top and pinned Dashiell in place with their legs locked around his and their hands gripping his wrists so tightly their nails dug into his skin.

"I'm so fucking tired of your shit, Feldspar!" Reese growled, their breath puffing hotly against his face as tried to catch their breath again. Their long cascade of hair formed an intimate curtain around them both as it pooled down on either side of his face.

"You love it and you know it," he wheezed back cockily. A bruise was already beginning to form at the side of his face and his lip was split again but he hardly seemed to care. Dashiell lived for moments like this. He absolutely loved getting under Reese's skin and watching them go from 0 to 60 in under a second. There was just something so satisfying about seeing the light ignite in their eyes and the fury coil within every muscle of their body. The beauty of it all far outweighed the aches and pains he would suffer privately at their expense. For someone who seemed so weak and small, Reese knew exactly how to hit hard and hit fast to cause the maximum amount of damage.

"Fuck you!"

"If you insist," he smirked.

What happened next though was not something either of them could really explain. One moment Reese was looking like they were going chew Dashiell's throat out with their teeth as they screeched out their frustration and then the next Reese's lips were crashing down hungrily onto Dashiell's. It was no tender kiss between a loving couple either. It was fierce and furious, as much of a battle for dominance as with anything else they ever did together. His hands were let loose so that they both could grapple and paw at each other's uniforms in a hurried attempt to touch and feel and know more of each other.

A creak and bang of the locker room signaled that they were no longer alone and thereby broke the moment. Reese ripped themselves away from Dashiell, sitting up enough to slap him with an open palm across the face before fighting to get off him and their clothes situated once more. They were gone without uttering a single word, the door banging shut once more with their departure.

For his part, Dashiell remained on the floor several moments longer, still too stunned with what had transpired to do much else. As his cheek turned cherry with the shape of Reese's handprint, he found himself licking his lips and tasting the last traces of them there. An incredulous smile slowly played across his lips and he laughed quietly.

"Well that was hot!" he spoke to no one in particular. It was that moment that Dashiell realized there was even more to Reese than he had ever imagined and he most definitely wanted more.