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“There,” whisper, your mouth hot and close to his ear, your body pressed against his side.
“Uh, there what?” Wade twists his head around, being intentionally obtuse.
Your hand shoots out, finger pointing toward the darkened alley to your left. “I want you to fuck me there.”
“There?”
“Yeah.”
“In the alley with the garbage and the rats and the hobos?”
“Yee-eeeaahhh.”
He pretends to consider, head tilted, hand on his chin. “Nah. Maybe next time.” An arm around your shoulders steers you away, back on the sidewalk and the course for home.
You whine, digging in your heels, forcing him to spin to face you. “Waaaaade….pleaaase…” You force your body flush against his again, sliding a hand over his crotch to grope him through his jeans. You feel him twitch to life underneath your palm and it feels good. It feels like victory.
“Noooo….I think you’re a little drunk.” He grips your shoulders, keeping you in place while he takes a step backward.
“So? You were drinking too, though so wh-”
“Healing factor.”
“Shut up.”
“Always trying.”
“Ssso wh-why…does it matter?” You struggle to get closer again but his grip is unbreakable.
He sighs melodramatically, his head falling backward on his neck. “Becaaaause….you do this every time you get drunk. Ask me to do stupid stuff like eat you out on the statue of liberty-”
“Hilarious.”
“-give me a handjob on the swings in Central Park-”
“The best, Let’s do it again.”
“-fuck you in a dirty alleyway…”
“Ooh, we haven’t done that one yet, let’s do that.”
“…but thennnn…the next day you’re all ‘wahhh, Wade, I’m sooooo hungover why are there grass stains on my favorite skirt and sand in my vagina??’ or you know…whatever. But I’m not having it this time. I won’t be responsible for the fleas or pestilence you will be infected with if I take you behind that dumpster and give it you hard and dirty. Uh-uh. Not this time. So I will just have to settle on taking you back to the relative cleanliness of your apartment and giving it to you there.” He crosses his arm, looking obstinate.
You squint at him, swaying slightly on your feet. “…relative cleanliness…” you whisper, glaring at him.
“Yep, I said it.”
“You’re saying…hold on…you’re saying th-that my apartment is only marginally cleaner than this random New York City alley?”
“It’s exactly what I’m saying.”
You huff out a breath, stabbing a finger at his chest. “Well, then, buddy,,,pal…I’m gonna take you back there and fuck the life out of you on three weeks worth of dirty clothes and make you eat those words.” You snatch his wrist, dragging him behind you with renewed purpose.
“I mean, that’s fair…”