Fic: Handshake
Aug. 10th, 2012 11:15 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
diapheniaTitle: Handshake
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
saucydiva
Word count: 1.5K
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Clearly I don’t own it or I’d give everyone tiny DC landmarks
Timeline: 3x10
Summary: Prompted byballroom_pink. April and Andy invite over Ben and Leslie. Truth or Dare ensues.
Author’s Note:rikyl deserves a big handshake for this.
****
“Truth or dare,” April says. Leslie marvels at how April keeps her voice perfectly level; there’s no question mark to end her sentence.
“Dare,” Leslie answers.
“Kiss Ben.” Andy looks at April and giggles, shoving his hands at his mouth like he can shove that giggle back in. April’s expression doesn’t change, and her gaze doesn’t waver.
“What?” Leslie asks, stalling. Kissing Ben is a terrible idea; she knows this. She can’t remember why exactly, but Chris’s face pops into her brain. Chris will be mad, she remembers. It isn’t allowed. Because Chris hates dating and fun and whipped cream.
“Screw him,” Leslie says.
“What?” Ben asks, looking alarmed.
“That’s the next dare,” April deadpans, eyes still burning into Leslie’s soul.
“No, not him Ben, him Chr—never mind,” Leslie says. She turns to Ben, who appears to be weighing his options. He definitely had not been pulling his own weight at the beer pong table. They’d beaten April and Andy, but not because of Ben. Ben, who never just let go, who held her at arm’s length, who looked at her with fire in his eyes and gave her a handshake.
“This isn’t a good idea,” Ben says.
“You have to,” Andy says. “It’s the rules of Truth or Dare. And without rules, we have archery.”
“We wouldn’t want that,” Leslie says, and she leans over and touches Ben’s hand. Not a handshake, which is how they usually touch. She puts her hand on top of his and laces their fingers together. His hand remains still, and then the fingertips curl in, holding her in place, and she knows— she knows— that she’s won.
She takes her free hand and traces his jawline ever so lightly. He has the slightest five o’clock shadow, and it might be the first time she’s seen him looking anything less than kept up. He closes his eyes momentarily, and when he opens them again, she’s already leaning in. He meets her in the middle, and his lips are on hers.
She intends to keep it light, but Ben groans and grabs her, one hand on her shoulder and the other tangling in her hair. She parts her lips and can feel his tongue on hers. He tastes like beer and pizza and warmth, and she wants to keep this up forever.
“Dude,” Andy says. That word hangs in the air for a moment, and then Ben pulls away from her. She feels cold without him pressed against her. Ben’s not looking at her, so she presses her lips against the back of her hand, trying to school her features into a neutral expression. When she feels she has she looks up, sees Andy’s open-mouthed grin and April’s calculating eyes and Ben’s chest moving in and out.
“Ben, truth or dare,” April says.
“I’m not playing,” Ben says, not looking at anyone.
“Sure you are. Truth, Ben, did you like that?” April asks. When Ben doesn’t answer, she continues. “I bet you did. I bet you liked that a lot. Only one way to find out. Why don’t you stand up right now, and we’ll see if you—“
“Stop it, April,” Ben says, glaring. “You know that was—we can’t do that again.” He looks at Leslie, and his eyes narrow on her lips.
Score.
“Well I, truthfully, thought it was amazing,” Leslie says. “Really amazing.”
“Leslie.” Ben looks pained. “It’s not a good idea.”
“I think it’s a great idea,” Leslie says
“I need to go,” Ben says, standing up, wiping his palms on his pants.
April and Andy stand up too, and Leslie sees a look pass between them. She hugs April, high-fives Andy, and—what else?—shakes hands with Ben. She grabs her coat from the front hall closet, and someone gives her a shove. She lands against something and hears an Ooof.
She gropes in the dark for a light switch.
“Dare. We dare you two to Seven Minutes in Heaven,” Andy says, muffled. She touches the door and can feel the weight of one of them holding the door in place.
“And you’re not coming out till then,” April adds. “Six minutes, fifty nine, fifty eight, fifty seven…”
“We don’t hear kissing yet,” Andy says, laughing.
“Leslie,” Ben says.
She orients herself to the voice, wedged in with puffy winter coats and musical instruments. Her eyes are adjusting to the light, and she can see Ben, a shadowy version of him pressed back against the wall, away from her.
“Leslie. I talked to Chris. You realize—we work together now? We can’t. We’re co-workers and you work under me—
If only, Leslie thought.
“And we can both get in trouble.” He pushes himself off from the wall like he’s swimming, propelling himself at the door. He brushes against her, and she can feel the heat between them. She grabs his arm, presses him against the other side of the door. She puts her hands against the door, trapping him. He could break away easily, really, but instead he puts his hands on her sides, skimming her hips. She can see his adam’s apple bobbing, and she waits.
He groans again, like he had when he kissed her, and they tangle together. He twirls her around, presses her against the doorway. She pulls at his shirt, pressing her hands against the bare flesh underneath, desperate to touch whatever she can. She can hear April and Andy talking in low voices on the other side of the door, and it only reminds her that she has to take everything she can now, before the door open and they have to be coworkers again. She hooks a leg around his, pulling him closer.
She can feel him pressing kisses along her neck, her clavicle. He nips at her earlobe. She moans, and he sucks lightly. She bucks her hips against his, and his mouth is frantic, darting around her like he can’t focus. She grabs the back of his neck and kisses his mouth, and he stops moving. They kiss for hours, maybe, or minutes. Leslie can’t tell, but she knows that she wants this. Now, possibly forever. They can just live in this closet, among the coats, with beef jerky slipped under the door to them.
“And your time is up!” Andy calls from a million miles away.
“But we’re not letting you out,” April says.
“We’re not? We said we’d—April what the hell—“ There’s a scuffling noise, and a few moments later, Andy says, “We’re not letting you out.”
“We locked you in,” April continues. “And we’re going to the movies. Here’s Leslie’s phone, if you need to call 9-1-1.” The front door slams.
“What are we going to do?” Ben whispers.
She drops down, gropes for the cell phone slid under the door. As she pops back up, she lets her body skim his. He leans into her and goes back to her neck.
“We have some time, it seems,” she says, pressing down lightly on the top of his head.
He falls to his knees.
***
After, she leans back against the door, her knees still feeling like jelly. Ben kisses her on the mouth, and she giggles, and he does too, foreheads pressed together, both of them pleased. She puts her hand against the door handle to steady herself, and she’s surprised when the door opens. She braces herself and doesn’t fall, but twists her arm in the process. Ben tries valiantly to catch her, only cracks his head against the door.
"I guess they unlocked it," Leslie says.“Maybe we should sit.”
“I’m going to go get some ice,” Ben says. He returns moments later with some wet washcloths—apparently, April and Andy don’t have anything but paper and frozen pizza in their freezer.
“This was—“ Leslie starts, unsure. “Fun. I mean, for me. And you, maybe.”
Ben gives her a molten look. “For me, too.”
“We should go, though. Sleep on this. I mean, what we’re going to do, not this couch.”
“Right.”
They grab their coats, pausing in front of that closet and sharing a smile. He gives her a kiss on the cheek, and she laces her hand into his.
They find a note taped to the front door.
TRUTH.
How long did it take you to realize the closet doesn’t lock?
Losers.
-April
Author:
saucydivaWord count: 1.5K
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Clearly I don’t own it or I’d give everyone tiny DC landmarks
Timeline: 3x10
Summary: Prompted by
ballroom_pink. April and Andy invite over Ben and Leslie. Truth or Dare ensues. Author’s Note:
rikyl deserves a big handshake for this. ****
“Truth or dare,” April says. Leslie marvels at how April keeps her voice perfectly level; there’s no question mark to end her sentence.
“Dare,” Leslie answers.
“Kiss Ben.” Andy looks at April and giggles, shoving his hands at his mouth like he can shove that giggle back in. April’s expression doesn’t change, and her gaze doesn’t waver.
“What?” Leslie asks, stalling. Kissing Ben is a terrible idea; she knows this. She can’t remember why exactly, but Chris’s face pops into her brain. Chris will be mad, she remembers. It isn’t allowed. Because Chris hates dating and fun and whipped cream.
“Screw him,” Leslie says.
“What?” Ben asks, looking alarmed.
“That’s the next dare,” April deadpans, eyes still burning into Leslie’s soul.
“No, not him Ben, him Chr—never mind,” Leslie says. She turns to Ben, who appears to be weighing his options. He definitely had not been pulling his own weight at the beer pong table. They’d beaten April and Andy, but not because of Ben. Ben, who never just let go, who held her at arm’s length, who looked at her with fire in his eyes and gave her a handshake.
“This isn’t a good idea,” Ben says.
“You have to,” Andy says. “It’s the rules of Truth or Dare. And without rules, we have archery.”
“We wouldn’t want that,” Leslie says, and she leans over and touches Ben’s hand. Not a handshake, which is how they usually touch. She puts her hand on top of his and laces their fingers together. His hand remains still, and then the fingertips curl in, holding her in place, and she knows— she knows— that she’s won.
She takes her free hand and traces his jawline ever so lightly. He has the slightest five o’clock shadow, and it might be the first time she’s seen him looking anything less than kept up. He closes his eyes momentarily, and when he opens them again, she’s already leaning in. He meets her in the middle, and his lips are on hers.
She intends to keep it light, but Ben groans and grabs her, one hand on her shoulder and the other tangling in her hair. She parts her lips and can feel his tongue on hers. He tastes like beer and pizza and warmth, and she wants to keep this up forever.
“Dude,” Andy says. That word hangs in the air for a moment, and then Ben pulls away from her. She feels cold without him pressed against her. Ben’s not looking at her, so she presses her lips against the back of her hand, trying to school her features into a neutral expression. When she feels she has she looks up, sees Andy’s open-mouthed grin and April’s calculating eyes and Ben’s chest moving in and out.
“Ben, truth or dare,” April says.
“I’m not playing,” Ben says, not looking at anyone.
“Sure you are. Truth, Ben, did you like that?” April asks. When Ben doesn’t answer, she continues. “I bet you did. I bet you liked that a lot. Only one way to find out. Why don’t you stand up right now, and we’ll see if you—“
“Stop it, April,” Ben says, glaring. “You know that was—we can’t do that again.” He looks at Leslie, and his eyes narrow on her lips.
Score.
“Well I, truthfully, thought it was amazing,” Leslie says. “Really amazing.”
“Leslie.” Ben looks pained. “It’s not a good idea.”
“I think it’s a great idea,” Leslie says
“I need to go,” Ben says, standing up, wiping his palms on his pants.
April and Andy stand up too, and Leslie sees a look pass between them. She hugs April, high-fives Andy, and—what else?—shakes hands with Ben. She grabs her coat from the front hall closet, and someone gives her a shove. She lands against something and hears an Ooof.
She gropes in the dark for a light switch.
“Dare. We dare you two to Seven Minutes in Heaven,” Andy says, muffled. She touches the door and can feel the weight of one of them holding the door in place.
“And you’re not coming out till then,” April adds. “Six minutes, fifty nine, fifty eight, fifty seven…”
“We don’t hear kissing yet,” Andy says, laughing.
“Leslie,” Ben says.
She orients herself to the voice, wedged in with puffy winter coats and musical instruments. Her eyes are adjusting to the light, and she can see Ben, a shadowy version of him pressed back against the wall, away from her.
“Leslie. I talked to Chris. You realize—we work together now? We can’t. We’re co-workers and you work under me—
If only, Leslie thought.
“And we can both get in trouble.” He pushes himself off from the wall like he’s swimming, propelling himself at the door. He brushes against her, and she can feel the heat between them. She grabs his arm, presses him against the other side of the door. She puts her hands against the door, trapping him. He could break away easily, really, but instead he puts his hands on her sides, skimming her hips. She can see his adam’s apple bobbing, and she waits.
He groans again, like he had when he kissed her, and they tangle together. He twirls her around, presses her against the doorway. She pulls at his shirt, pressing her hands against the bare flesh underneath, desperate to touch whatever she can. She can hear April and Andy talking in low voices on the other side of the door, and it only reminds her that she has to take everything she can now, before the door open and they have to be coworkers again. She hooks a leg around his, pulling him closer.
She can feel him pressing kisses along her neck, her clavicle. He nips at her earlobe. She moans, and he sucks lightly. She bucks her hips against his, and his mouth is frantic, darting around her like he can’t focus. She grabs the back of his neck and kisses his mouth, and he stops moving. They kiss for hours, maybe, or minutes. Leslie can’t tell, but she knows that she wants this. Now, possibly forever. They can just live in this closet, among the coats, with beef jerky slipped under the door to them.
“And your time is up!” Andy calls from a million miles away.
“But we’re not letting you out,” April says.
“We’re not? We said we’d—April what the hell—“ There’s a scuffling noise, and a few moments later, Andy says, “We’re not letting you out.”
“We locked you in,” April continues. “And we’re going to the movies. Here’s Leslie’s phone, if you need to call 9-1-1.” The front door slams.
“What are we going to do?” Ben whispers.
She drops down, gropes for the cell phone slid under the door. As she pops back up, she lets her body skim his. He leans into her and goes back to her neck.
“We have some time, it seems,” she says, pressing down lightly on the top of his head.
He falls to his knees.
***
After, she leans back against the door, her knees still feeling like jelly. Ben kisses her on the mouth, and she giggles, and he does too, foreheads pressed together, both of them pleased. She puts her hand against the door handle to steady herself, and she’s surprised when the door opens. She braces herself and doesn’t fall, but twists her arm in the process. Ben tries valiantly to catch her, only cracks his head against the door.
"I guess they unlocked it," Leslie says.“Maybe we should sit.”
“I’m going to go get some ice,” Ben says. He returns moments later with some wet washcloths—apparently, April and Andy don’t have anything but paper and frozen pizza in their freezer.
“This was—“ Leslie starts, unsure. “Fun. I mean, for me. And you, maybe.”
Ben gives her a molten look. “For me, too.”
“We should go, though. Sleep on this. I mean, what we’re going to do, not this couch.”
“Right.”
They grab their coats, pausing in front of that closet and sharing a smile. He gives her a kiss on the cheek, and she laces her hand into his.
They find a note taped to the front door.
TRUTH.
How long did it take you to realize the closet doesn’t lock?
Losers.
-April
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-08-11 02:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-08-11 08:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-08-12 12:38 am (UTC)Fixed that for ya!
Have you held onto your obsession through it all? Or have you thrown him over for his dopey personality and moved on to some other eye candy?
no subject
Date: 2012-08-12 01:48 am (UTC)It will no doubt be one of those loves that lasts a lifetime or until he gets ugly but even then I will remember him how he was (much like Marlene Griggs-Knope loved Frank Beckerson) in his prime, a god-like figure despite his lack of brain skillz. One of my friends defended my love saying, "He's a competitive swimmer! Do you know how long they have to hold their breath for?! Losing a lot of brain cells that way. You can't be good at everything."