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Tonight is another Saturday at Dave’s apartment. Sprawled out on the couch with soda bags and chip cans at your feet, you are spending another night playing video games with your best bro. You’re playing a fighting game at the moment, with the characters throwing equal amounts of punches and catch-phrases at each other.
“Dude, what is your character even saying?” you snort, after hearing “Is it hot in here, or is it just you?” for the fourth time.
“You can’t figure it out from his name?” Dave snorts right back at you, indicating the line above his health bar bearing the words ‘Pickup Prince.’
“His pickup lines are pretty lame,” you note as a kick from the prince earns a “Heaven’s missing an angel!”
“That’s the point of pickup lines. They’re supposed to be lame. That’s why they’re funny.” Dave talks as if he’s explaining rudimentary knowledge to a small child.
“So would you use a pickup line on a chick?” you ask.
“I wouldn’t advise it for you, Egbert, they’re definitely more miss than hit, especially when you don’t know what you’re doing.” Dave’s Lame Prince wins the tie-breaker, and you two are led back to the character selection screen.
“What? You think you have more of a chance than me with one?” There was no way that was true.
“I’m just saying... I don’t think you’d have anything witty enough that you didn’t find on the first page of Google,” Dave shrugged, abandoning the game controller.
“Was that a challenge?” you stiffen up, your nose in the air.
“If you want to make it one.” Dave smirks, obviously confident.
“If you were a taser, you’d be set on stunning,” the first one falls from your lips as you think of it.
“You must be Jamaican, because Jamaican me crazy.”
“If you were a booger, I’d pick you first.”
“Wow, gross.” Dave scrunches his face up and frowns. You pull your legs up on the couch, away from your drinks so you don’t accidentally knock them over.
“Giving already?” you smile, faux triumphantly. It was too early and you both knew it.
“You wish,” he shakes his head. “Something is wrong with my cell phone. Your number isn’t in it,” he continues.
“But my number is in your phone, Dave.”
He gives you a look of disbelief. “Play along, Egbert.”
“People call me John, but you can call me tonight,” you wink.
“Smooth,” he mocks your suave attitude. “Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?”
“If you were sine squared and I was cosine squared, we would be one,” you say, recalling the pythagorean proof.
“Wow, no, we didn’t need to take this back to math class. We’re also going to pretend I didn’t learn anything in math and that flew over my head, so it definitely didn’t work.” He seems grossed out by reference to academics.
“Are you saying I should only use easy pickup lines on blondes?” you grin.
“Yeah, don’t you remember? Blondes are dumb and all that jazz, can’t use that tangent bullshit,” he reprimands you.
“It’s your turn, if we’re going to get off the tangent,” you remind him.
“Are you a parking ticket? Because you've got fine written all over you.” This time, you hear something other than his usual sarcastic mocking tone. You turn your head sharply to find out what’s up and though his shades hide his eyes, he still moves his head like he’s looking away from you.
“Do you have an eraser? ‘Cause I can’t get you off my mind,” you respond, after a short pause, no hint of humor in your voice any more. Dave’s right hand is tapping a rhythm on his knee and his face is pointed at the ground.
“Are you sure you’re not an alien, because you’ve abducted my heart,” he says almost quietly. It sounds like he’s admitting something more than he’s competing with you anymore.
“You’re so hot, you make the sun envious,” you offer, unsure of the implications of what you two are saying. The direction his shades are pointed has moved from his knees to yours.
“Is your dad a baker? Because you’ve got a nice set of buns,” he deadpans, looking you in the face.
The tension breaks a little and you giggle. “Dave!”
"Did the sun come out or did you just smile at me?”
“Hey it was my turn!” you protest, ignoring the perfect timing of that one.
“Are your legs sore from running through my dreams all night?” he adds again.
“No fair!” you leap forward and push him over, attacking his stomach with moving fingers.
He fights you, tries to push you back as his back hits the couch, but you’ve got the advantage, wiggling your fingers over his sensitive belly. You pull his shirt up a little bit for maximum effectiveness. His mouth pulls into a tight line and you can tell he’s trying very hard not to laugh. But his resolve only lasts a few seconds against your persistent tickling.
He starts giggling, and curse you if it isn’t the cutest thing you’ve ever heard. You’re stunned enough that you even pause for a moment before continuing your revenge. Dave tries to roll over on his stomach, but you aren’t having any of that. You pin his sides with your knees so that he can’t move, and he gives up that avenue.
Dave’s hands and arms try to cover up his stomach, but you only move your target area to his neck and he moves them up to push your hands away, leaving his stomach free for assault again. His face starts to turn red from laughing before you cease.
His giggles stop as abruptly as your tickling, and he’s staring at you, for sure. His cheeks are a light shade of pink over the freckles on them, and his mouth is open slightly as he tries to catch his breath. You become painfully aware of how close you are to him, Dave’s body between your legs and face a few inches away. And you suddenly, really want to see what his full expression is.
“Do you have a map? Because I keep getting lost in your eyes.” You make it clear that you’re asking him a question, as you touch the edge of his shades. He swallows, his adam’s apple moving up distractingly, and nods. You pull them off and set them to the side, focusing on the last puzzle piece to his expression. They’re wide, a little startled, expectant, and dazzling red.
“Is there an airport nearby? Because my heart is taking off.” Dave pulls one of your hands over and onto his chest, right above where his heart is. You can feel the soft beating of it through the fabric of his shirt, faster than normal.
“If I had a garden, I’d put your two lips and my two lips together.” Another question.
He bites his lip. “... I hope you know CPR, because you take my breath away,” Dave answers. You don’t waste another second and lean down and press your lips together, pulling yourself down from on your hands to on your elbows. You thread one of your hands through the fingers on one of his.
The second you part, Dave reaches up to take off your glasses and meets your lips again, this time his lips are pressed hard against yours. Another challenge. You wrap your fingers in his hair and kiss him back, darting your tongue forward experimentally. You press your tongue in between his lips and he opens his mouth slightly. You proceed to explore, pressing Dave down back against the couch.
When you break apart, you’re both breathing hard and Dave’s face is flushed. You both sit up, legs still twined together. Dave’s looking away from you, redirecting his eyes.
But you’ve still got one more pickup line up your sleeve.
“Do I know you? Cause you look a lot like my next boyfriend.”
Dave stares at you incredulously and starts to laugh. “Okay you win, John.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes,” he breathes, and you kiss him again.