Style (Chris Evans)

9

Chris's house is nice. Homely, it's big but not too much that it's in your face, plus it's away from the road somewhat and just quiet considering we're near it.

I feel my stomach take flight a little as I head to the door, now seeing it open and him coming out to meet me. "Hey, you got here ok then", he smiles as he gives me a kiss on the cheek and shows me inside.

"Certainly did, it's a nice place you've got". I tell him, now hearing the sound of hurried paws scampering on the flooring before the famous Dodger all but launches himself at me with excitement. "Hi!" I grin and crouch down to fuss over him as he tries to lick me.

"Dodge, c'mon, get off her - she doesn't want your slobber over her". Chris now pulls him away as Dodger is all but trying to jump over me again.

"He's fine. I used to have one when I was younger and he'd do it all the time". I brush it off, scratching Dodger behind his ear. He bounds off and returns dragging his lion.

Chris shakes his head. "No bubba, she's not playing with your lion". Dodger looks crestfallen at being told no and drops the lion in front of us. I crouch down to him again and pick up the lion. "Don't do it Lili..." Chris warns as he smirks. "You're starting something..."

I look up at him and stick my tongue out, then launching the lion down the hallway with Dodger slipping and sliding as he goes after it. "One won't hurt".

"You won't be saying that when he comes back and wants you to do it ten more times". He states as I get back up - both of us heading into the kitchen. Then turning and presenting me with another damn pen, but a Captain America one that's got some freaky bobble head on it that's supposed to look like him. "Welcome to Chez Evans, here's a complimentary gift to remind you of your visit".

I hold the pen up next to him. "The resemblance is uncanny". I tell him dryly and then slide it into my purse where all the others now live in an inside pocket. "That's the best one so far".

"Plenty more where that came from. You want your cocktail before or after dinner?" He asks.

"After". I decide and he pours me some wine instead, telling me that it should be ready soon. "I had no idea you were a culinary master". I muse, finger tracing the rim of the wine glass.

He lets out a small 'heh', "I wouldn't go that far, but I can cook stuff that won't poison people".

"Good, because if I die from your cooking then I'm gonna make sure that I come back and haunt you until you poison yourself, just so you can have some peace".

"Ouch, I'd better do a taste test before then".

Yes please...

I grin and shake my head. "I trust you not to kill me with..." I look through the door of the oven. "Lasagne..." I'm so glad there's no garlic bread. I couldn't think of anything more off putting for something like this. It seems he was thinking along the same lines too. "You really didn't have to cook though".

"I know", he shrugs, "but I don't really get to do it for people often - well my mom sometimes but y'know, it's just me and Dodge mostly".

"It ever get lonely?"

"Think it would be worse if it was just me by myself but it's not so bad. I like my own company mainly - aaaand now I sound like a bit of a jerk saying it like that when I've invited you over".

I shake my head in disagreement. "Not a jerk, but I do know what you mean by liking to have your own company".

It was the story of my life back in high school.

The sound of the timer rings out, ending that conversation and ultimately telling us that dinner is served.

**

Dinner is really good, better than anything I could try and conjure up. If anything I'd probably be the one killing him with my cooking - but either way I enjoyed it. Both of us talked about the reunion and who looked nothing like their high school selves etc. I find out that he was almost on the verge of not going, but decided to stop by for an hour - which then turned into the whole night once he saw I was there apparently.

Chris comes in from where he's been making my cocktail and passes me my drink. "You wanted sex, you've got sex". Now settling down next to me.

I really don't have enough if we're gonna be honest here - but you don't need to know that. Anyway I didn't come here looking to get laid. I came for the cocktail and also the company more than anything.

I take a sip and nod, pleasantly surprised by his skills. "Now this? This is good sex".

He smirks. "In different circumstances, if I didn't know you then I'd say you haven't had sex with me". Now shrugging.

He knows full well what he's doing.

"Did you just compare your bedroom skills to a cocktail?" I raise an eyebrow quizzically. He's not wasting anytime when it comes to flirting, just like he did last night, except it's not surprising me like I thought it would.

"I dunno, you tell me".

I purse my lips to stifle the small laugh that escapes me and then eye him knowingly. "I mean, the cocktail is real good, probably the best I've had..."

This man is giving me such a feral look, I'm sure that I'm about to melt into a puddle of stupid right in front of him. "Buuuuut..."

Oh yes. Like I said, he knows.

"Needs a bit more of the sex to be perfect..." My eyes don't leave his after taking another sip.

He now shifts closer to me, silently taking the glass from my hand and placing it on the coffee table, one arm now resting casually on the back of the sofa behind me, while the other cups my cheek.

Don't freak out, for fuck sake just give in and let him kiss you!

So I let him...

Soon he's laying me back, lips on mine and his hands beginning to slide underneath my top, cupping my breasts and then moving down to the waistband of my leggings.

I stop him. "We shouldn't...not yet at least". I tell him, "I don't wanna make things awkward considering we're going to be working alongside one another for stuff".

He nods. "Just the making out then?"

"I mean the touching is fine and stuff, but - nothing further. Not yet".

You could've had a stick dip from this man Lili and here you are literally telling him that a simple finger bang on his sofa will suffice!

I shake the thought from my head, muttering to myself that I'm an idiot.

Thankfully he understands where I'm coming from. "You're not an idiot". He says, "and I'm certainly not gonna make you do something you don't wanna - we'll take it slow, see what comes from it". 

Or who -STOP!

"Yeah, that's what I meant, but instead I've made it sound more complicated than it needs to be". 

"Well, how about I carry on kissing you and we can forget about that?" 

I don't hesitate in pulling him back down by his shirt so as we can do all the 'forgetting' that we want.