TANK

14 (fluff and smut)

I wake up to the feeling of Tank's mouth kissing my shoulder. I sigh, leaning into it. His mouth moves off of me and up. "Baby, wake up," he says, soft, close to my ear. I barely flutter my eyes open, and see he looks as exhausted as I feel, "Hn, what time is it?" I ask, rubbing my face into his chest. "It's 7:30." He responds. My face contorts for a moment, but I drag my eyes open and I sigh. "Fuck." I breathe out, moving to pull myself up. "I gotta get going. You're still down to drive me right?" I ask as I swing to my feet. "Yeah," he says, sitting up on his elbows, "Work right?" I pull his sweater off and drop it back on his bed. I look back at him, nodding. "Yeah, sadly."

He looks like a deer caught in the headlights, eyes flicking up and down my body in surprise. Ignoring my brief embarrassment I step out of his room, quickly walking over to my backpack still on his couch and pull out a change of clothes- I prepared this time. I have my dress over my head and on my body before Tank walks past me. His hand idly brushes over my waist as he slips past me into his kitchen.

My stomach flutters as I turn on my heel, moving back toward his bathroom. I run my fingers through my hair, trying to groom myself to make it look like I haven't spent the last fifteen hours getting fucked within an inch of my life. I purse my lips, after determining I'm not going to able to fix it, and turn back into his bedroom. I rifle through the other sweaters, left out from yesterday, and grab the smallest one I can find. It's a worn-looking navy blue hoodie. It still doesn't fit, but it's not so overwhelmingly massive that I'll look like an idiot at work for wearing it.

I make my way back into the bathroom and check myself in the mirror, tightening the hoodie strings to make sure it's high enough on my neck to cover all of the hickeys from last night. I consider the article for a moment. It's one of the few pieces of clothing I've seen from Tank that isn't white, black, or a shade of grey. It has a weathered logo of a white tiger head on the front, and a town's name I've never heard before. I step out of the bathroom, headed back toward the living room, still considering it.

Tank is leaning against the arm of his couch, near the front door, ready to leave. He's scrolling his phone with a severe look on his face, bike helmet already in his other hand. I approach, settling between his legs. His arms move to accommodate me, tucking me against his body before he even acknowledges my presence, eyes locked to his phone. "They're moving the curfew up to 6 pm." He says with a sigh. I groan, shaking my head into his chest. "They'll do everything except change policies, huh?" I say into his chest, muffled by his shirt. I hear his phone click as it closes and he leans back, hands beginning to take an active role where they rest on my body."Is this-" He starts saying, fingers tucking under the hem of his hoodie to rest on my hips. I pull back before he finishes to see his face, which is pulled into a stupid grin.

"Is this- what?" I question, knowing he's asking something about his hoodie, but still curious to know the full answer. He raises his eyebrows, fluffing the hoodie out with his hands. "God, this is from fucking high school." Laughter bubbles out of me in response, "You kept this from high school?" I step back from him and pose, "Tell me, who wears it better, me, or your high school girlfriend?" I expect him to tease me back, but he looks at me with an unwavering intensity, "You." He says, simply. Suddenly feeling shy, I pull in on myself, "That's... cold, but its good know I have someone I don't even know beat." His hands are back on me, helmet forgotten at his side as he reels me in.

"Well," he starts, humor at the edge of his voice, "Technically I don't know her either," he says. My brow furrows in confusion, wondering where this is going. "I didn't have a girl in high school." He states, plainly. I pull back and fix him a look, "That's, bullshit!" I say, almost insulted. He raises his hands in mock surrender, "I swear on my life baby, girls at my high school did not like me. I didn't date until college." I blink, sensing his genuineness. He laughs to himself, hands still raised as the shock paints itself on my face. "What? How? Are you kidding me? You're kidding me." I say it with a finger stabbed in his chest, brain stuttering in genuine disbelief. "It was a rural school," he starts, "Girls liked yee yee conservative boys." One of his hands rests on the small of my back, the other gestures to himself. "Which I am... not."