Indiana Jones and the Handle of Tequila

A Crowded Bar

Indy was unlike anyone you had ever known. You had first stumbled into him in a bar in Egypt- the place was a mess so naturally you decided to lift a bottle of tequila. On the way out you felt a strong hand close around your wrist. "Want some company?" You followed the leather-clad arm until your eyes met the muted gray ones staring down at you. A smirk broke across the handsome man's lips and you found yourself nodding your agreement. You ducked out of the door just as a glass shattered above your head.
You found yourself walking down the dusty road, kicking up dirt every few steps.

"I'm Y/N." You told him, craning your neck to catch his intoxicating gaze once more.
"I'm Indiana Jones." He answered with a deep, manly voice that you certainly wanted to hear more of. "What brings you to Egypt, Mr. Jones?"
"Doctor Jones." He corrected, a sly grin on his lips. You chuckled. "Pardon me, Doctor Jones."
"I'm an archaeologist. There's an excavation going on a few miles from here- I was asked to recover... an artifact." He finally replied, almost as if he was unsure on how to answer such a simple question. "And what is it that you do, Miss L/N?"
"Professor L/N." You responded, coercing a small laugh from him. "Pardon me."
"And I'm a historian. Brought to the area for reasons similar to yours." He wasn't the only one that could be cryptic. You caught a smirk flashing over his lips, his eyes shining under the brim of his hat. "My room's just up this hill." Indy told you, nudging towards the muted lights down the road. "So?" You questioned, your brow quirking. "You said you wanted some company? Unless you plan to finish that handle on your own." He retorted quickly, another winning smirk on his increasingly appealing lips.

"Why not my hotel room?" You countered, pausing and placing your hands on your hips. "Well is it closer, sweetheart? Because I think that bar brawl is getting pretty out of hand." As if on cue, gunshots rang out followed by even more hollering. "Alright; your place sounds good." You agreed, allowing him to take your arm and guide you back towards his room. Normally, you wouldn't allow some strange man from a bar to escort you back to his place, but normally you wouldn't be roaming the streets of Egypt alone, either. The rest of the walk was quiet, mostly you asking Indy about the excavation; he mumbled something about an ancient cutlass, but didn't care to elaborate. Soon you reached a worn, dusty hotel of sorts; Indy's room was on the second floor. The rooms were only lit by dim candles, the ground a cool stone. Indiana had a faded white shirt on that was unbuttoned halfway down his chest, exposing muscle and tanned skin that tempted you more than you cared to admit. You noted the whip secured to his waist and pursed your lips. "I uh- don't use that on friends." He responded having noticed your interest.

"Unless you want me to." Indy answered cheekily, shooting a wink in your direction. You wanted to scoff but instead you felt a blush spread across your cheeks at the thought. He pushed the door open and you followed him inside. Immediately you noticed the papers strewn about his desk, and a suit jacket draped carelessly over a rather uncomfortable looking chair. He moved the pile of books off his bed, gesturing for you to take a seat. You plopped down onto the lumpy mattress, keeping your gaze stuck on the mysterious man towering above you. You threw the cork across the room and took a generous if not excessive sip from the bottle. You handed it to Indy who raised the neck of the bottle to his lips, nodding graciously. You couldn't help but watch as he swallowed, his jaw clenching just slightly, brows quirked. After an impressive gulp he handed it back over to you, that sexy smirk falling over his lips. "I like your hat." You said, trying to suppress a giggle. The gorgeous stranger plucked it off his head and set it on yours. "There, kiddo." You drank from the bottle again, a bit of the dribble running down your chin. "You're not like most men, are you mister Jones?"
"Doctor." He reminded you, a laugh leaving his chest. "Whatever-" Another drink.

"I uh- I guess you could say that." He agreed, shrugging his shoulders. Were you hitting on him now? Of course you were. He was gorgeous and you had been alone for far too long. Something told you he felt the same. You could feel his hand tracing up your arm, his eyes stuck on your lips. You handed him the bottle which he set on the ground carelessly, the glass hitting the stone with a light thud. His hands made their way under the collar of your jacket which he pushed off your shoulders, his gaze stuck on yours. He never looked away, the eye contact only making the tension mount. Once your green canvas jacket was gone you were left in just a white sleeveless tank top and you were ready to pounce. Before you could truly process your actions you were easing him onto his back, moving swiftly to straddle his trim waist. A look of surprise flashed over his face but he recovered quickly, a cocky grin taking its place. You ran your hands down the exposed skin of his chest, slick with perspiration from the heated Egyptian night.