thumbs hooked in his pockets as she gave him a playful smile. Fillion shifted his weight against the bar and narrowed his eyes at her.
“Too bad. Not interested.” He shoved her off his hip and she swore at him. Purple hair whipped in the air as she abruptly turned and then continued down the row of other potential inebriated victims while raising her middle finger in the air.
“Go home, bishounen ,” Mack said with a flat voice. “I might actually have a chance that way.”
Fillion snickered. “Quit your gritching. You don’t want her. She’ll rip you off.”
“Ticket girl?”
“Something like that.”
“Who cares?”
Fillion gave him a surprised look. “You’re crazy. Wipe your face, save your nosebleed for a girl who honestly wants to hook up, or you’ll lose stamina.” Mack pretended to wipe his nose, and then rubbed his hand on Fillion’s arm. He humorously shook his head in response to his friend’s antics. “You’re pathetic, you know that?”
“Please, oh wise one, save my pathetic soul,” Mack said, begging with his hands melodramatically. When his plea ended, Mack imitated a hair flip, poking fun at Fillion’s bishounen status. A smug, satisfied smile stretched on his friend’s face as he picked up his stout off the bar counter, surveying the crowd.
A girl walked by in a short, tight, low-cut black dress. Fillion watched as Mack checked her out while casually sipping on his beer. A plan instantly formed in Fillion’s mind and he flashed his eyes in challenge at his friend.
With smooth and playful movements, Fillion grabbed the girl’s hand and pulled her toward him. A coy look formed on her face in response, and she softly bit her lower lip as her eyes lazily traveled to his mouth. He gave Mack a sly smile as his hands slowly slid down her body until they cupped her hips. Mack responded with an irritated chuckle and then looked away to reign in his annoyance, but he continued to watch from the corner of his eye. So Fillion lowered his head, hovering over her mouth for a few seconds as he felt her breathe deeply in anticipation. God, he loved this kind of power over a female.
Satisfied with her reaction, he winked at Mack and then whispered in her ear. She giggled with his whispers, glancing at Mack. Fillion let go of her hips as she angled toward his friend. He leaned back against the bar and bit the inside of cheek. Mack raised his eyebrows in question at first, but quickly turned his attention to the girl when her fingers flirtatiously played with a button on his shirt.
“Your friend tells me you’re a virgin,” she said in a syrupy and amused voice.
Mack whipped his head Fillion’s direction and glared. Fillion nearly choked on the whiskey, unable to stop laughing.
“How old are you?” she asked Mack.
“He’s eighteen,” Fillion volunteered, trying to keep a straight face. He leaned in and said in a loud voice, “Be gentle with him. He might cry. And he definitely likes to cuddle.”
Mack flipped him off. But the subtle smile on his face let Fillion know his friend was far from angry. Checkmate. Fillion shrugged his eyebrows in a suggestive gesture, and then grabbed his tumbler of whiskey off the bar as Mack continued the charade of being a noob to hooking up. Fillion was going to pay for this joke, but it was so worth it.
The whiskey swirled in his glass as he moved his hand to the beat of the music. He needed to down his drink quickly and join the rave. Mack was now busy, and Fillion would need to find his own entertainment before stumbling back home.
He kept his eyes on the crowd and nearly spewed the amber contents in his mouth when he recognized the rainbow strands that belonged to only one person. She leaned in and kissed someone in the corner while her friend, Pinkie, stood nearby picking the pockets of the unsuspecting young man. Fillion slammed the glass on the bar, gaining Mack’s attention.
“I’ll be back.”
“Ah, shit,” Mack said, following
“Too bad. Not interested.” He shoved her off his hip and she swore at him. Purple hair whipped in the air as she abruptly turned and then continued down the row of other potential inebriated victims while raising her middle finger in the air.
“Go home, bishounen ,” Mack said with a flat voice. “I might actually have a chance that way.”
Fillion snickered. “Quit your gritching. You don’t want her. She’ll rip you off.”
“Ticket girl?”
“Something like that.”
“Who cares?”
Fillion gave him a surprised look. “You’re crazy. Wipe your face, save your nosebleed for a girl who honestly wants to hook up, or you’ll lose stamina.” Mack pretended to wipe his nose, and then rubbed his hand on Fillion’s arm. He humorously shook his head in response to his friend’s antics. “You’re pathetic, you know that?”
“Please, oh wise one, save my pathetic soul,” Mack said, begging with his hands melodramatically. When his plea ended, Mack imitated a hair flip, poking fun at Fillion’s bishounen status. A smug, satisfied smile stretched on his friend’s face as he picked up his stout off the bar counter, surveying the crowd.
A girl walked by in a short, tight, low-cut black dress. Fillion watched as Mack checked her out while casually sipping on his beer. A plan instantly formed in Fillion’s mind and he flashed his eyes in challenge at his friend.
With smooth and playful movements, Fillion grabbed the girl’s hand and pulled her toward him. A coy look formed on her face in response, and she softly bit her lower lip as her eyes lazily traveled to his mouth. He gave Mack a sly smile as his hands slowly slid down her body until they cupped her hips. Mack responded with an irritated chuckle and then looked away to reign in his annoyance, but he continued to watch from the corner of his eye. So Fillion lowered his head, hovering over her mouth for a few seconds as he felt her breathe deeply in anticipation. God, he loved this kind of power over a female.
Satisfied with her reaction, he winked at Mack and then whispered in her ear. She giggled with his whispers, glancing at Mack. Fillion let go of her hips as she angled toward his friend. He leaned back against the bar and bit the inside of cheek. Mack raised his eyebrows in question at first, but quickly turned his attention to the girl when her fingers flirtatiously played with a button on his shirt.
“Your friend tells me you’re a virgin,” she said in a syrupy and amused voice.
Mack whipped his head Fillion’s direction and glared. Fillion nearly choked on the whiskey, unable to stop laughing.
“How old are you?” she asked Mack.
“He’s eighteen,” Fillion volunteered, trying to keep a straight face. He leaned in and said in a loud voice, “Be gentle with him. He might cry. And he definitely likes to cuddle.”
Mack flipped him off. But the subtle smile on his face let Fillion know his friend was far from angry. Checkmate. Fillion shrugged his eyebrows in a suggestive gesture, and then grabbed his tumbler of whiskey off the bar as Mack continued the charade of being a noob to hooking up. Fillion was going to pay for this joke, but it was so worth it.
The whiskey swirled in his glass as he moved his hand to the beat of the music. He needed to down his drink quickly and join the rave. Mack was now busy, and Fillion would need to find his own entertainment before stumbling back home.
He kept his eyes on the crowd and nearly spewed the amber contents in his mouth when he recognized the rainbow strands that belonged to only one person. She leaned in and kissed someone in the corner while her friend, Pinkie, stood nearby picking the pockets of the unsuspecting young man. Fillion slammed the glass on the bar, gaining Mack’s attention.
“I’ll be back.”
“Ah, shit,” Mack said, following
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