Work Text:
Somehow over the last couple of months, it had become instinct to let her eyes travel over every room she entered and search for the familiar sight of a halo of blonde hair accompanied by shining red.
Before - it had been a way to find the only two people she wanted to be with in a room. Now.. - now it was to avoid interacting with them at all costs.
And tonight, despite the alcohol coursing through her veins, Feyre immediately spotted her ex-boyfriend and his best friend as they entered the room.
She hadn’t felt like coming to the party in the first place, but her friends had threatened to drag her by her feet. So, she had reluctantly agreed and had somehow ended up alone with nothing but a seemingly endless supply of cheap beer.
Feyre let her eyes drift over the crowd, looking for anyone she could engage in a conversation - or just to have them be a shield against the unpleasant exchange of words that was sure to occur once Tamlin spotted her.
Her eyes got stuck on a familiar figure - as always, he stood out starkly against the rest of the crowd. His hair and clothing black as night, his skin glowing a deep golden brown and those eyes - flashing like the dying heart of a star.
Rhysand.
She almost kept looking for someone - anyone else, but found those eyes were already looking back at her. There was a knowing glint in them and, of course, Rhys too had noticed Tamlin’s arrival.
He was probably the only other person who dreaded him being here as much as she did.
So, Feyre swallowed her pride and the urge to bristle at that insufferably smug smirk and started walking towards him with brisk, sure steps.
He shifted in his seat to face her fully and by the time she had reached him, he was giving her that smirk that made butterflies flutter in her stomach.
“Hi.” She breathed, hating the way her voice was breathy and panicked all at once.
“Hey.” He replied, his voice like honey.
When she didn’t say anything for a while, he let his eyes drift over her shoulders and something dangerous sparked in them. “He’s coming over here.”
Feyre almost groaned. “Just play along, okay?” She muttered, before closing the distance between them, pressing her hands to his chest and sliding them up his shoulders and around his neck.
Rhys let out a surprised gasp that tickled at her skin as he relaxed into her touch. His legs fell apart and Feyre stepped between them, trying to ignore the hard muscles she could feel pressing against her.
“Still coming.” Rhys muttered, lips brushing against her cheek.
Feyre pressed a kiss to his cheek, heart hammering in her chest, fingers tangling in the soft hair at the nape of his neck. Rhys let out something that sounded suspiciously like a purr and whispered, “You can do better than that, darling.”
Feyre pulled at his hair, causing him to groan and flex his legs to herd her closer. “C’mon, act like you mean it. Kiss me like you love me.” Rhys egged her on and Feyre threw caution to the wind and twisted her face to capture his lips with her own.
His lips were cold, probably from the drink he’d been nursing and it was a welcome feeling against all the emotions warring inside her.
Rhys wrapped his arms around her, broad hands sliding over her back, pulling her closer.
And Feyre let him.
She melted into his touch and pulled again at his hair. This time a little less harsh but still hard enough for him to gasp, his lips falling open. Feyre used that opportunity to slip her tongue into his mouth, finding his own.
The sounds Rhys was making against her lips sent sparks through her whole body and for a moment, she forgot where she was or why she was, all she knew was that she was kissing Rhys and it was the best feeling in the world.
She pressed more firmly against him and felt something hard pressing against her stomach. Something like a groan escaped her own lips at that and she tried to get closer still.
It was Rhys who pulled away from her, albeit reluctantly. He didn’t push her away, just lifted his face far away to look over her shoulders. A smirk danced on his lips, still wet from their kissing. “That seems to have done the trick, Feyre darling.” He said, a little breathless.
Then he was looking down at her and Feyre suddenly remembered that she had approached him because Tamlin was here and she had been desperate to avoid him.
And then she remembered, that she was pressed against Rhysand. The guy from her political science class that always managed to get a rise out of her, but was her favourite discussion partner.
“Uh-” Feyre gasped, unwilling to let her hands drop from where they were tangled in his hair. “Thanks?”
He chuckled at that, pressing a soft and surprisingly tender kiss to her cheek. “I think I should be the one thanking you.”
The cocky tone in that voice snapped her out of her daze.
Finally, she let her hands slide from his neck to his shoulders and chest and used his surprisingly muscled chest to push herself a little further away from him. She was still standing between his legs, but no longer could she feel every hard contour of his body.
If she was honest with herself, she missed it already.
Rhys’ hands were featherlight where they had dropped to her waist, fingers flexing in silent question.
“Is he still there?” Feyre asked, unable to look into his eyes and hating how small her voice suddenly sounded.
“Nope.” Rhys replied. “Turned on the spot, fuming, when he saw you with your tongue down my throat. He’s probably out there terrorizing a streetlamp.”
Feyre was torn between scowling at him or chuckling. Somehow, she managed to do both. And somehow, Rhys seemed to understand what she was trying to convey.
“Wanna get out of here?” He asked, his voice dangerously seductive all of a sudden.
A small part of her wanted to furiously nod and press back into his warmth. Another - bigger part of her furrowed her brow. “Rhys, I-”
His hands dropped from her waist and he flashed her a charming smile. “I wasn’t trying to seduce you. I mean I was, can you blame me after all of this? But what I mean is that you didn’t look like you were having fun, even before that prick showed up, so I was wondering if you wanted to leave and do something that was actually enjoyable?”
“And what would that be?” Feyre replied, somehow unable to walk away or turn him down just yet.
She had always enjoyed his company. Always liked when they turned a class discussion into their own heated show, throwing arguments back and forth like they were playing sports. And she especially liked when they got partnered together to actually agree on something.
She had to admit, that despite his ego and smirking and those damn bedroom eyes, she liked Rhys.
He shrugged. “We could get milkshakes and fries and look at the stars.”
She almost burst out laughing. Not because it was a stupid idea, no, but because it was something she’d been craving to do for ages.
So, despite everything, Feyre nodded. “That sounds great.”
He looked taken aback by that, but collected himself quickly. “Alright, then. Let’s go.” And then he stood in a single, fluid motion and offered her his hand.
Feyre took it and let him guide her through the crowd.
And went to look at the stars with Rhys.