“So, sex buddies.”
It wasn't exactly the way she wanted to deal with this. Normally, she didn't accept any such offers, as they never seemed to go according to plan: someone always had ulterior motives; if they didn't have any from the start they would end up developing some silly feelings for the other person.
But, even though she couldn't remember the fight she knew had happened earlier in the week, she remembered a single thought very clearly. I'm sorry, I just want you to be happy.
And so, when he propositioned her last night, she had agreed.
Quickly, the redhead snatched two bottles from the fridge, closing the door with a hip bump and balancing the plate of corn chips and melted cheese in her free hand. Granted, it was vegan cheese, but with enough salsa, olives, and guacamole on them she doubted the man lounging on the well-loved sofa in the other room would be able to tell the difference.
It had to be done. Honestly, there was no good reason any straight male should be referring to Lady Gaga in a serious manner, no matter how genius said reference was. And, using 'muffin' as a sex password was indeed a genius idea in her eyes, given the situation. Bluffing? Oh, she was. They both were, and they knew it. He wanted her far more than he wanted anyone to know; she wanted his brother. Or did she anymore? Until recently, she was happy with mostly anonymous, meaningless sex, and it was looking more and more like that would have probably been the best thing to stick with, feelings be damned. But, on a platonic level, she wanted her best friend to be satisfied, and he wasn't going to be if he sat around pining for her.
Still, even their fucked up situation wasn't a good enough excuse for him to invoke Lady Gaga. So, as soon as he had admitted it, she mentally began planning the gay intervention.
“Okay,” she announced, making her way towards him and handing him one of the long-necked bottles. “I have beer, nachos, gory video games, and a vag, and you don't have to use them in that order. Let the re-straightening process begin.”
She set the plate of nachos down on the coffee table between them, smirking a little and chuckling to herself. She could feel his eyes on her, looking up and down her form, studying her as she sat down nonchalantly and popped the top off her own beer with a keychain bottle opener. “I think I'm in love,” he muttered – jokingly, or, knowing him, in a joking manner to throw her off of his true feelings. He was tricky like that. She just shook her head slightly.
If they were going by the rules laid out by the newly crowned queen of dance-pop in the song that had started it all, they had already broken most of them. They kissed, sometimes. It was out of a combination of drunkenness and boredom, at least at first, but really it was probably what had started this whole mess to begin with. And he was a good kisser. Hugs? Risa hugged everyone, whether they wanted it or not. It's just the kind of person she was. And she liked being held.
As for love? Love had no place in a purely physical relationship.
“Yeah, I love you too,” she shot back in the same mocking, sarcastic manner, not quite masking how she really felt about the man. After all, she had told him before. Just, not the way you want me to, she added silently.
A drabble written with characters from Millennials. Completed. Kinda. There's a bit of a backstory to this one that isn't present in the work itself. I might add the description here later.
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