Poor Judgment, (7/?)

Date: 2012-11-04 06:09 pm (UTC)
From: (Anonymous)
Wow, so you know how I said there'd be smut eventually? Well, whoops, I'm gonna go ahead and be a cocktease because I thought up a great sequel and, well, what can I do? I can get these two in bed a lot more organically in said sequel.

If I were to do a series with Case, would anyone actually read it? Give me all your thoughts, nonnies. Give me them.


-----

"Sun's comin' up," Delvin mumbles after a while - after couple more drinks for him, steadily moving him past happy drunk to moody drunk, and a couple more for Case, who seems to be crossing over into bad-decision-drunk territory, if the way she's leaning on his shoulder is any indication. He glances down to admire how strawberry blond hair is cutting soft, stark curves and rivulets of coral-colored waves across the dark leather of his armor, filling his nose with the smell of dragon's tongue and lavender.

He probably just smells like sweat, sewer, and booze.

Sighing, Delvin gently pries the flagon from Case's fingers and repeats himself. She lifts her head, planting her chin coyly on his shoulder and smiling uncomfortably close. "How do you know?"

"I can feel it." He pats away the hand that reaches for the flagon again. "You're lookin' a mite sleepy there, love. You want I should escort you back to Honeyside?"

"Only if you'll stay there with me a while," she offers, that smile quirking sideways into what's probably intended to be a feline smirk. Delvin has only to guess that it must be hard to manage when your lips have gone tingly-numb.

"Many's the girl what's said that and regretted waking up with a headache next to my ugly mug come morning. Or in your case, probably afternoon."

Case's chin scoots a little further along Delvin's shoulder, her face inching closer to his. Something he can't quite complain about, honestly, but ultimately this is leading nowhere and he knows it. "You're right," she says, that gleam coming back into the translucent haze of her milky eyes. "You should know, Delvin, I care an awful lot what people look like."

He snorts at that, and finishes off his last drink to make up his mind and avoid her sightless stare. Blue, he decides. It's hard to tell through the layer of pale murk covering her irises, and he could be wrong, but he's fairly certain her eyes are blue in there somewhere. He stands abruptly, off-balancing her a bit, but steadies her by her shoulders and guides her off of her stool. "Come on, doll, I'm taking you home."

"Decided to spend the morning with me, then?" Case's giggle is infectious, but he shrugs it off with the innuendo.

"Not at all." Delvin takes her wrist and pulls it around his shoulders, slipping his own arm around her waist, and patiently tugs her away from the bar, toward the walkways surrounding the Flagon's ever so scenic vista of stagnant green water toward the door to the ratways, and the canal beyond. "Tell you what, you still feel that way when your head clears and we'll have a grand time, you and me. I'll take you up on your offer, and Skyrim won't see either of us for maybe a week. Sound good?"

"You're doubting me again," Case complains, attempting to pull away. "I'm not that far gone--" She cuts off as she nearly stumbles sideways into the pool in her struggle, but Delvin catches her around the waist and pulls her close again, tut-tutting in amusement at the self-defeating show of inebriation. Case ignores this, pouting back at him. It's a good look on her. Delvin looks from her eyes to the pretty curve of her protruding lower lip, colored lightly with the remnants of a coppery lipstick that's worn off with the drinking. "I didn't get this far on poor judgment," she grouses, "so don't just think--"
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