💦 RoadTrip One Shot Collection 💦

Randy | Ain't Together

A/N: Just letting you know in this story they have hair. My fantasy, my rules.

* r y e *

Andy smirks at me as the machine rings out again, loudly announcing to the empty arcade that he's just got yet another high score. I roll my eyes at him, biting back the smile that wants to take over my face just from looking at him.

"You cheated," I accuse, fake punching the big red 'LOSER' sign flashing over my screen.

Andy scoffs. "How exactly do you cheat in 'Just Dance', Rye?"

"You distracted me at the beginning by making me laugh. Gave yourself a massive head-start," I feign outrage, while Andy practically snorts.

"Don't be a cry baby," he teases.

"I should have gone home with the boys. Should've known you'd just make yourself win by being all snakey."

He raises a brow at me, maybe because I'm dangerously near to acknowledging the unspoken out loud. The boys went home hours ago after the movie, yet we've stayed for the flimsy excuse of playing a few games because we both know we can't get enough of each other's company. We'll take any opportunity to be alone together, still needing to find the excuse because technically we're not together.

"Snakey?" He repeats, choosing to go along with my jabbing. "Please, I always beat you. At this, at table tennis, FIFA, everything." He smirks, daring me to bite back at him.

"Everything?" I challenge stepping closer to him, making Andy's breath hitch, his eyes flicking down to my lips. "I'm pretty sure I can recall some situations where I come out on top."

Things already taking a sexual turn, yet again. As they always do these days, ever since we first crossed that line. It had once seemed so strange but now it's like we don't know how else to be. Andy's panting at my proximity, the smirk wiped clean off his face.

"Bathroom," he breathes.

"We're alone," I remind him, stepping closer still so I can feel his breath on my lips. He looks around, finding the arcade is indeed empty, but I can tell he's jumpy as he bites his lip.

"Still bathroom. There's cameras."

"Fine." I take his hand and pull him towards the men's room. Being each other's secret isn't always easy, but damn, it's hot. I close the door and slam his body against it, our lips crashing together in a heated kiss. He groans into it, pushing his tongue inside my mouth urgently, the way we always kiss; deep in the mouth like someone could stop us at any moment.

My hips roll into his and his hands come up to tug at my hair, forcing me impossibly closer to him. No question about where this is going anymore. He raises a leg up to wrap it around my hip and I hitch it over my thigh. Grabbing his other leg, I lift him up so he's held against the door. His legs wrap around my waist, trapping me against him as we kept kissing with jaw-aching ferocity. It's so hard to care about details when we're like this. Details like what we are, if anything at all. Labels wouldn't make him taste any better. Would they?

"I want you to take me," he says into the kiss, letting me feel his burgeoning erection against my stomach.

"In here?"

"I don't fucking care, just do it now," he groans, and I let go of him to latch the door behind him. I pull back to look at his face, flushed cheeks and long eyelashes and hair already a blond mess. Once again I'm flummoxed by how I stayed immune to him for so long. He turns me on so much now.

"What?"

"You're pretty." He pushes me away playfully, his way of telling me to shut up with the compliments and just get on with it. I let him back me up against the sinks until I flip us around at the last second, lifting him up again to sit him on the edge of the counter where his ankles make their way back around to cross behind my back. The sloppy, hasty kiss resumes while his hands fumble their way down to my crotch. He gets the button undone and then his hand is inside my jeans, palming me over my boxers, squeezing ever so gently, driving me wild from the teasing touches that don't match the intensity of his kiss.