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Cos baby when you get close to me, there's something about you I really need

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You were already way too drunk when you and your friends flopped down the couch at your favorite club - Marleys. And you figured "Hey, one more beer can't hurt" when you managed to send a random guy to get you one.
You sat back and relaxed, trying to smoke a cigarette without laughing too hard, knowing what a fucking brat you became when you drank too much, but didn't really care when the guy came back with a beautiful, brimful, glass tumbler that seemed to shine so lovely.
You gave him a sloppy kiss as a way of thanking him and then brushed him off.

***

You turned around too quickly and literally stumbled into a guy and his cigarette - burning the exposed skin on your chest. You flinched and screamed out at the stinging, hot sensation.

"What the fuck?!" you blurted out. "Watch where you're going!"

Moving to examine the injury, you accidentally tipped your beer a little too much and spilled atleast half of it over yourself before quickly jerking it back and spilled the rest of it on him.
His chuckle turned into a little squeal as the cold beer ran down his stomach and for the first time you got a good look at him and in the back of your mind you thought you recognized him.

"Oh my god I'm so fucking sorry!" you said quickly, ashamed out of your mind.

He looked less than thrilled as his whole front was soaked.

"You should really watch where you're flailing those arms." he said, shaking beer off his hands.

Highly inebriated you snapped right away;

"Sorry your majesty, but you torched me with your fucking cigarette first!"

He scoffed.

"That was an accident. You bumped into me."

"Could you've been standing any closer to me then?"

"Look, princess." raising his voice somwehat. "Open your eyes - this place is crowded, you aren't the only one here, you know."

"You're so buying me another beer." you said, totally disregarding his snide comment. "And a fucking first aid kit." Moving your fingers over the tiny burnmark.

"Tell me. Is that the go-to word you overuse when you yell at strangers?"

You looked up at him, prepared to tell him off, but got completely spellbound by his eyes and the way they seemed to sparkle.

"What do you mean?" you asked more annoyed than you actually were.

"'Fuck.' Is that the only word you know how to use properly?" he asked condescendingly, but grinned slowly as he saw your puzzled expression.

"No! It's not..."

He laughed.

"Shut up!" you sneered.

Opening your mouth to speak again, he interrupted;

"You're feisty, I like it."

"And you're an ass..."

"Ouch!" he exclaimed dramatically, placing his hand over his heart, totally mocking you. "Burned!"

He grinned big and you couldn't help the pang of excitement spreading through your body.

"What? You're making fun of me now?" you asked and gave him a playful shove in his chest. "When I'm totally vulnerable. Drenched and charred and insulted..."

"You're such a dramaqueen!" he said, laughing. "I love it."

"Where do I know you from?" you asked and narrowed your eyes, changing the subject.

"Oh, I don't know." he said, feigning reflection. "Maybe you've yelled at me before?"

"Highly doubt that. I tend to remember unquestionable assholes."

"As do I." he smirked. "That's why you're completely new to me."

You both laughed a little over the absurdity of the situation and you realized in that second how turned on he made you just by the smell of his aftershave and the way he smiled at you.

"I'm Tim." he said, holding out his hand to greet you.

The little hairs on the back of your neck stood up the second his hand pressed down on yours and your shoulders involuntary convulsed very subtly. Slowly turning your hand without taking his eyes off you, he planted a gentle kiss on the back of it.
You giggled to mask the fact that his actions made you shiver, feeling like time stopped around you.

A couple of seconds went by as you just stood there, unable to pull your eyes off each other.

"And I'm impressed." you said in a low voice, coming to your senses. "No one has ever done that before..."

"Maybe you've been hanging around the wrong people then?"

Gently reclaiming your hand without breaking his gaze, you discreetly ran your fingertips over the spot he'd just kissed and found yourself fantasising about his lips and how they would feel on the rest of your body.
Smiling shyly at your own naughty thoughts, you looked down on the floor, hoping he wouldn't notice your sudden bashfulness as the air grew a little too serious and steamy.

"So I owe you a beer, huh?" he asked suddenly and cleared his throat.

"Yeah, I should hope so." you said, giving him a seductive look.

He peered across the room, realising that you had nowhere to sit and considering the queue to the bar both of you would be completely sober by the time you even had a chance to order.

"You know what?" he said, fumbling around for his pack of smokes. "I don't wanna sound too pompous" placing a cigarette between his lips, lighting it with deftly fingers. "But I have a car waiting outside. Do you wanna come back with me to the wrap party I escaped from earlier?"

You nodded.

"Sure! I'm just gonna say goodbye to my friends."

***

"A wrap party, huh?" you leered. "Sounds exciting."

He smiled slowly.

"Well it's mostly just the same thing every time; drunk people indulging in expensive champagne and expensive caviar, tooting their own horns, you know."

"Oh yeah, totally!" you said ironically and gestured your hand like you knew. "Sounds like every party I've ever been to."

He laughed heartily as he lit another cigarette.

"Do you want one?" he asked. "As a peace offering."

"Got anything to drink..?" you asked as your eyes spotted a little cabinet.

He took a quick drag of his Marlboro and let the smoke filter out through his nostrils as he spoke;

"Yes of course, sorry. How could I forget?"

Reaching to open it, he triumphantly pulled out a bottle of champagne. "Ta-da."
Waving it slightly in the air.

"This is a little fancier than beer but I hope it's ok anyway."

He handed you two glasses so he could pour, then slipping it down a bottle holder, turning to you again, he carefully clinked your glasses together.

"So what movie wrap party are you escaping from, Tim." you asked as you had a sip. "Cause I know you're an actor."

He laughed a little and shifted in his seat, his knee touching yours.

"That's terribly sweet of you to notice." he said in a low voice. "Yes, I am." he nodded a little and had a sip of his drink. "Been in town for a couple of weeks now, filming the last scenes to a movie called Clue."

"Oh, like the board game?"

"Yes, our own little interpretation of it, I think it's gonna be real awesome." he said as his eyes widened for a split second and he looked really pleased. "I'm in almost every scene..."

"How ironic." you said, giving him a complacent look. "All that's missing now is the caviar..."

"Am I that transparent, huh?" he chuckled and moved closer, his face inches away from yours.

He licked his lips and smiled slowly, preparing to kiss you.

"I guess we're all the same...conceited and greedy..."

He reached out to caress your cheek, slowly running his fingers over your face, then gently grabbed your chin to pull you into the kiss. You were a bit caught off guard by his confident and strong lips, but you relaxed almost immediately and wrapped your arm around his neck.
Loving the way his mouth fit so perfectly on you and the way his tongue violated every inch of you.

You ended up spending the remainder of the evening provocatively latched together.
Never really caring about peoples looks as you engaged in your own affectionate world, binge drinking the expensive champagne provided by the studio, and danced together like you were the only ones in the room.
You weren't the least bit surprised when you ended up fucking in one of the bathroom stalls of the hotel, twice.

***
You woke up at the crack of dawn, feeling anything but fresh and alive. Not really remembering much of the previous night, you wondered how you even got home seeing how drunk you were.
You tried turning and felt an arm around your waist. What the fuck? Who was that?
Your heavy drapes were shut - you had atleast though of that before crashing in bed, so you couldn't really see his face in the semi dark as he was passed out on his stomach with his face buried under all your hair. And it felt like he had drooled on your back. Nice.

With much strain you leaned up on your elbow, trying to grasp the situation. You still had your black jeans on, but they were unbuttoned and hung just under your ass, and one sock, no shirt though, but atleast your bra. Good! You hadn't removed it in some weird ass, alcohol fuled striptease last night.
You nudged the sleeping body next to you - he was fully undressed, except for a pair of grey briefs and one shoe! You panicked for a second, not really recalling if you had slept with this person or not.

"Hey...you..?" you said as you moved to stand, staggering with wobbly legs to the window to open the drapes.

It was not even light outside yet, but it was enough to make your eyes flutter and to put your hand up to cover your face, feeling so miserably and hungover, you just wanted to die.
The body in your bed moaned and put a pillow over his face, clearly not interested in waking up or even moving that much.
You had an unnerving and almost unrealistic feeling in you as you tried remembering last night, vague flashes of Tim Curry and a board game kept popping up and you had no idea as to why. The last thing you knew happened was that you had stopped by your favorite pizza place to have a late night drunken snack and that a guy had been with you. But what are the odds of that guy being Tim Curry?

You sat down on the bed, slowly poking the slumbering body. Needing him to disappear from your apartment so you could lie in bed all day and be hungover in peace. He moaned again and you picked the pillow off his face.
Your stomach churned and suddenly all your weird thoughts got an explanation; You had picked up Tim Curry last night. Or was it the other way around?

"Oh fuck, it is you!"

He began turning in bed and when he realised he wasn't wearing much, he sat up quickly, mumbled something and looked around the room with big, confused eyes. You couldn't help but smiling a little. Even in his disoriented and mussed state was he still so beautiful it made your heart ache. You bit your lips together to stifle yourself.

"Look." you said, clearing your throat. "I don't really remember all that much from yesterday, but it must have been good since my shirt reek of stale beer and I have a burnmark on my chest."

He smiled.

"And I consider that a successful night." you joked.

He laughed a little as he reclined on the bed, supporting his weight on his elbows, his eyes found yours.

"I feel like a complete idiot." he said.

You got a nervous feeling in the pit of your stomach, like butterflies, and you suddenly felt very uncertain.

"What do you mean?" you asked, trying to sound unaffected.

"I don't want you to think I make a habit out of this."

You smiled slowly, not really believing him. He was Tim Curry, wasn't he? And you figured he had no trouble with the ladies. It was quiet for a couple of seconds too long as none of you really knew how to behave to break the awkward tension.

"I'm gonna take a shower." you said and moved to stand.

"Yes of course, I should get going." he said and actually looked a bit disappointed.

He flung his legs off the bed and his eyes found yours again, they looked like they had a thousand questions and even more desires. You only had one; that he would stay.
But of course he wouldn't, right?
He bent down to pick up his clothes lying scattered on the floor.

"You hungry, by the way?" you asked.

"Starved."

"Do you want some breakfast?"

His face changed and he smiled a bit timid as he nodded.

"Good. Cause you're making it."