Chip Taylor | 68 Kill Oneshots

Sweet Cherries (PG-13)

Summary: Chip can tie a cherry stem in a knot with his tongue.

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There was just something about the bar at the end of a long workday. I could tell you it was the booze or the stools, but I would be lying. I could take a seat practically anywhere in the restaurant, and I didn't need to be at the bar to find a flask. There was something else about the bar specifically, and he had a name.

Chip Taylor.

As I walked behind the bar, though, I didn't acknowledge the man silently working away at organizing the glasses. At least, I didn't say anything to him. I definitely looked at him, though. It was hard not to.

Eventually, I came to my destination beside him and rested a tired arm against the counter.

"Hey, Chip," I sang lazily.

He looked at me for a second, but then continued about his work. As far as he was concerned, I wasn't there for him.

"Hey, cherry thief."

He had timed his response perfectly, having waited until I had already plucked a cherry from the jar.

"You say that like you don't sneak them all day," I chuckled back, twirling the fruit between my fingers with a sly grin.

Chip didn't seem fazed. Without any thought on the subject at all, he shrugged as he responded, "I prefer the lemons."

It seemed so odd, to picture him enjoying something with a bitter peel and sour insides. But at the same time, I could see it. Something to cut through the sweetness.

"You're crazy, Chip." I sighed, popping a cherry into my mouth and continuing to play with the stem. "Did you know I can tie a cherry stem in a knot with my tongue?" I asked once my mouth was no longer full.

"Really?" He looked surprised. I tried not to take offense to it.

"No," I admitted without much fanfare following the disappointment. "I just wanted to see your reaction."

And, continuing with the painful reminders that he was probably uninterested, Chip reverted back to his silent work in no time at all. I should've done the same, but I didn't. I didn't really have a good reason for it, either. I just saw a stray glance from him that was probably imagined, and I struggled to find a reason to stay.

"I'm pretty sure it's actually impossible," I blurted out.

If it brought nothing else good for me, it at least managed to catch Chip's attention. He had a brief contemplative grin, his eyebrows furrowing and his mouth dropping ever so slightly open like he had something he wanted to say. After another ten seconds of struggle, he shrugged.

"I can do it," he admitted.

"Yeah right." With a laugh, he turned back to me and almost dipped his hand into the jar of cherries, but found it blocked by my own. He flashed me an unconvincing pout that quickly evolved to an adorable sulk.

"I can!" Chip repeated with more enthusiasm.

I wondered if he actually thought I didn't believe him. Surely, he couldn't be that oblivious — right? He had to know I was flirting with him. On the off chance he didn't, I decided to up the ante.

"Then show me," I dared just before I stuck out my tongue. I placed the sweet cherry down, curling my tongue around it so that the stem stuck up to him from my lips. And when he made no move besides a confused tilt of his brow, I raised one finger to tap against the stem I offered between my lips.