Work Text:
It was Thursday, March 9.
And like every Thursday, she had to go to Tyler’s house so they could “do their homework.”
To be honest, she always finished hers in five minutes — and if she was feeling generous, she’d help him with his.
As for him, he loved this day.
It meant he got to see her again, and God, he’d missed her.
It was raining on this gray March afternoon when his car finally stopped in front of Nevermore.
“Sorry I’m late!” he said, smiling that guilty oops smile.
“Yes, I noticed,” she replied dryly, sliding into his car after he opened her door from the inside.
“Sorryyy,” he added, still smiling.
Her hair was now damp.
She side-eyed him, sighing.
And he — idiot that he was — just took her hand and kissed her knuckles.
He really was stupid.
He drove ten minutes toward his house, glancing at her every few seconds to see if she was actually mad.
Apparently, she wasn’t.
Her face was too calm for that.
He relaxed.
When he parked in front of the house, he got out to open her door and even bowed dramatically to let her pass first.
She rolled her eyes.
He barely had time to open the front door before she was ambushed by Elvis — who launched himself at her stomach, trying to lick her face.
Tyler burst out laughing and pushed the dog away while she looked completely traumatized.
“Aw, it’s fine, Elvis, go away,” he said, still laughing.
“Train your dog a little better,” she replied flatly.
He sighed and took on his best aristocratic voice.
“I will, darling. I will.”
Then Elvis jumped on her again.
That dog seriously needed to be put down.
They went upstairs to work.
Tyler had a mountain of homework that could probably reach the ceiling.
He was going to die buried under it someday.
She had three assignments for different classes, which she’d probably finish in four minutes flat.
Well. She was the smart one.
They sat at his desk, and she got started immediately, because this stuff wasn’t hard for her — which was kinda unfair.
As always, for the first half of their “study session,” he just stared at her.
She was so beautiful it almost hurt.
And, as always, one thought led to another, and before he knew it, he was just absently staring at her hand resting near his, thinking.
Thinking about how lucky he was to have her in his life.
Which was cute — at first.
Then those thoughts go less holy.
“I’m done,” she said distantly.
He snapped out of his daze.
Right. He was supposed to work, not think whatever he’d been thinking about her.
Something was definitely wrong with him.
“What? Ah, I didn’t even start yet,” he said, stretching his arms.
She sighed. He gave her his best puppy eyes, trying to summon her generous side.
She just stared at him, unimpressed.
“Pleaaaase?” he tried, smiling so sweetly it almost burned her eyes.
She sighed again and finally grabbed his English notebook to see what he was supposed to do.
He’d read it yesterday and understood nothing.
Apparently, she got it immediately.
She started explaining all sorts of things, and he — well, he understood zero percent, heard all of it, and listened maybe twenty percent.
Because he was lost in her eyes again.
They were so dark he couldn’t even tell where her pupils ended.
His gaze dropped to her lips.
So dark. He always wondered what she used to get that color.
(He never asked. He was afraid she’d say blood — and that would mean he’d kissed blood more than a few times.)
His homework was honestly the last thing he wanted to do.
And not to sound like a double-entendre guy but yeah.
He was smiling dumbly, and she was still explaining whatever it was he was supposed to write.
He always smiled dumbly, so this wasn’t new.
She looked so smart. And so adorable.
Without thinking another second about his very bold plan, he leaned in and kissed her.
Which, conveniently, shut her up.
“That was very rude,” she said flatly when he pulled back.
He laughed and leaned in again, slow enough that she could’ve stopped him.
She didn’t.
His English homework was now light-years away — maybe swallowed by a black hole somewhere.
He smiled against her lips.
He could die right now and it would be worth it.
Then he pulled back just long enough to lift her and set her down on his bed.
Before she could complain, or hit him, or both, he kissed her again.
She was intoxicating.
Like a drug — he was getting higher by the second.
His hand slid to her waist, and in revenge, she bit his lower lip. Hard.
“Ow!” he laughed, whining.
She looked up at him with the faintest smirk.
A little disappointed she hadn’t drawn blood.
Then she — yes, she — kissed him back hard enough to make him forget everything else.
Which she was definitely doing just to mess with him.
Everything to make a man completely lose his mind.
And it was working.
His brain was gone.
Homework? School? Nothing mattered except keeping his lips on hers forever.
They pulled apart again, breathless.
“I know what you’re doing,” he said, smiling.
She looked way too pleased with herself.
“That’s not stopping me from doing it,” she replied coolly.
He laughed. Like hell he’d want her to stop.
So he kissed her again.
And again.
And probably a few times more.
Her arms looped around his neck.
When they finally stopped, they were both out of breath — and she looked way too smug about how dazed he was.
“Wait,” he asked suddenly, “what do you use for lipstick to make it that dark?”
“A lipstick,” she deadpanned, probably questioning his IQ.
Phew. He could live in peace now.
Though she looked a little too proud of herself.
He smirked mischievously and started pressing kisses down her neck.
He found his favorite spot and started a hickey.
Well. She was ruined.
Embarrassingly ruined.
How did he even know her that well?
Probably because he was completely, hopelessly crazy about her.
And right now, maybe a little out of control.
Every time she started to complain, he’d bite her mid-hickey — which, annoyingly, worked.
The hypnotist got hypnotized.
He trailed his lips down to her collarbone and started another hickey — this one vaguely heart-shaped.
She’d probably kill him later.
Still worth it.
By then, her breath came out uneven, her chest rising too fast.
Weird thing to do involuntarily.
He got even more invested in his artwork and muttered that he loved her.
Until the front door slammed.
His dad.
They froze.
She sat up instantly.
“What time is it?”
“Who cares?” he muttered weakly.
“Tyler.”
Right. Way past curfew.
She got up fast while he sat there, trying to get his brain to work again.
As she slipped her shoes back on, he was still mentally rebooting.
He drove her back to Nevermore.
He could’ve cried about how much he loved her.
But she’d probably ghost him forever if he did.
She’d probably do that anyway when she saw her neck in the mirror.
Still.
Worth it.