“I swear to whatever gods are listening, Constantine, I am going to punch you in the throat!” you exclaim. It’s hard to see him through the slime covering your face, but you have a vague idea of where he is and figure if you take a swing, you’ll connect with some part of him.
“What the bloody hell did I do?” he demands.
“What part of ‘Wait, wait, don’t kill it!’ do you not understand?”
This is why you and John always end up fighting every time you work a job together. No matter how much planning you do, he always manages to screw it up some way. Usually by abandoning it all together to do whatever crazy idea that just popped into his head.
You wipe the remaining muck away, finally able to see John clearly. He’s not nearly as dirty as you are and looks way too pleased with himself.
“Saw an opening and I went for it,” he said. “S’not my fault you were too slow on the draw.”
Anger flaring, you march up to him, jabbing his chest with your finger. “Fuck off!” you snap. “That’s not what happened. See, this is why I hate working with you! For someone who gets people killed, you think you’d learn to be more careful.”
“Low blow, love. Low blow.”
He was right, that had been low. But you were too pissed to care about his feelings. Turning on your heel, you marched away from the lake, disappearing into the surrounding woods. You have a vague idea of which direction the car is, so you head that way. You can hear John’s footsteps through the brush not too far behind you.
“So now you’re not gonna talk to me?” he pondered, voice muffled.
You glance over your shoulder in time to see him light the end of a cigarette. “Why should I bother? You never listen anyway,” you respond.
“That’s not true,” John says. He quickens his pace until he falls into step with you. The light of the moon cascades between the tree branches just enough for you to see him smirk. “I listen when you beg.”
You can’t help but smirk. “Fair point,” you say. “Too bad you won’t be hearing that for a while.”
John cigarette is dropped to the ground and the next thing you know, your back is hitting a nearby tree as he pins you to it. “That so, love?” he grins, leaning in close. “Care to make a wager?”
You shove him away and continue walking. “We’re covered in goop, in the middle of the woods. I’m not even close to being turned on.”
John laughs and catches up, slinging his arm around your shoulders. “Rain check then,” he concludes.
“Suck a dick, Constantine.”
“Would if I could, love.”
Thankfully the motel isn’t too far a drive. By the time you let yourselves into your shared room, your clothes were sticking to you and you were in desperate need of a shower. John closed the room door behind him as he watched you immediately start to strip.
“Now that’s more like it,” he grinned, loosening his tie. “Shower or bath?”
“Shower,” you say. “Don’t worry, I’ll be quick.”
He gives you a pout as you head to the bathroom alone. Your annoyance toward him had dissipated during the car ride. Now you’re just messing with him, which is what you both do to each other. It’s obvious how this night will end. The same way it always does.
You close the bathroom door behind you but don’t bother locking it. Even as you turn on the shower, you can hear him moving around in the room, waiting for the opportune moment to join you. The hot water feels amazing as it washes away the chill and grossness from the swamp. You hum a tune as you cover yourself in body wash, almost missing the quiet click of the door as it opens.
John’s shadow grows closer as he moves toward the shower and you just step under the spray to wash away the suds when he slips in behind you.
“Took you long enough,” you tease.
Sinewy arms come around your waist and rough lips nip at the back of your neck as John chuckles. “You almost had me fooled,” he says. “Thought for a moment you might actually want to shower alone.”
Smirking, you lean into his touch, shuddering as his cool body steals the heat from yours. “It’s the game we play, isn’t it?” you tease. “I pretend to hate you, you see right through it, we bang until we pass out…”
John hums in agreement, placing kisses along your neck as his hands come up to cup your breasts. “Aye, love,” he says. “Still fun.”
You turn in his arms, still grinning even as he yanks you into a proper kiss. Water cascades over your bodies as you devour each other, eager to lose yourselves in the taste and feel of each other. Against your thigh, John’s cock swells with interest, and you drop your hand down to curl your fingers loosely around him.
“How do you want me tonight?” you ask.
John ponders your question, burying his face in your neck and lapping at the wet sensitive skin. You shudder under the onslaught, mind running wild with all the pleasurable possibilities the evening holds.
“Such a tough choice,” he declares. “How about I start on my knees and work my way up?” He’s already lowering himself down before you can answer, eyes glittering with mischevious promise.
“You might as well put that mouth of yours to some use,” you grin, leaning your back against the slick tile wall.
“Don’t worry, love. I intend to.”