fandomhigh | Library, Sunday

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library

Library, Sunday

Because Face was a mature person, he was not stubbornly sitting with his legs spread as far apart as physically possible and silently daring the etiquette books to do something about it.

Instead he just had his feet up on the collections desk.

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Face continued grinning, because, again, he was a little shit.

Cassandra stood up, placed one hand on the desk, and reached out to yank him up out of his chair.

Given Cassandra's general Cassandra-ness, Face was well and truly yanked to his feet...and kind of turned on.

Which was probably why he just kept grinning at her.

"Ugh," Cassandra said.

Kissing him would wipe the grin off his face, surely? She would try.

Well, it worked in the sense that it was hard to smile when you were enthusiastically using your lips for something else.

In the sense of stopping Face feeling inordinately pleased with himself? Being manhandled and kissed by a pretty girl was kind of counter-productive there.

It wasn't as if Cassandra had any other strategies short of beating him up or throwing the desk at him, which would be counter-productive to her interest in keeping his face intact.

... Maker, now she was doing it.

"You are terrible," she informed him, pulling back. "Stop it."

Mission accomplished.

"Stop what?" Face asked, oh so very innocently. "Kissing you?"

One day far in the future, Dia was going to have so many notes to share with Cassandra about shutting Face up.

"The puns," Cassandra muttered. "And the-- Do not play innocent with me, Garik."

About the puns. Which were clearly a capital offense. And she had just almost made another one of.

Puns were awesome. One of the highest forms of wit.

"But I'm so good at it."

"Puns are the lowest form of wit," Cassandra said. "It does not take much effort."

So she didn't seek them out?

"I only use the finest, handcrafted puns," Face protested.

Cassandra snorted. "It does not take much to work the word 'face' into a conversation," she pointed out.

Oh, sure, use logic. "But it does to work it in well."

"You call that 'well'?" Cassandra asked.

Choose your answer wisely, Face. She was still holding on to your shirt.

But was she going to kiss him again if he made more puns, was the important thing.

He decided to live dangerously. "When faced with a question like that..."

"Oh, Maker," Cassandra groaned.

She was too busy rolling her eyes to kiss him. Sorry, Face. Hopefully the edge of that desk wasn't pressing into your stomach too hard.

He had plenty to distract him from desks and their edges. "Too much?" he asked.

"It was too much three puns ago," Cassandra informed him dryly.

His mouth was still distractingly close, she realized.

Face's mouth was very good at being distracting. Not dirty.

"I like to overachieve," he said cheerfully.

Not dirty? Or was it?

Whatever it was, Cassandra apparently felt that kissing trumped eyerolling just this once by virtue of Face not punning again.

Hopefully she would not be reinforcing the wrong thing again.

There was only so much dirty one could get up to in a ~~public comm~~ library without quite a lot of people getting grumpy.

Luckily kissing fell far short of that limit.

Cassandra finally let go of his shirt, because she had more important places to put that hand - like his face.

(She could no longer think about the word 'face' without groaning internally, now. Thank you, Garik.)

She cupped his cheek, her thumb lingering over an edge of his scar.

(He aimed to please.)

Face suppressed an instinct urge to pull back at the unfamiliar sensation of someone else touching his scar, because if he did that then there'd be less kissing, and if she couldn't tell already, he kind of liked it. A lot.

Because he didn't flinch, she didn't notice, and she kept her hand where it was.

The kissing was really, really nice-- even if she did have to come up for air, now.

Passing out on the desk would be awkward and hard to explain.

"So was there anything you wanted me to help you with?" he asked.

At least it wasn't a pun?

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