I roll my eyes for what seems like the thousandth time in the past hour, padding out onto the porch barefoot. It’s a nice night, so I figure I can camp out here until our guests arrive. It’s just too intense inside. All six of the Spikes living or staying at my house are involved in setting up some elaborate surprise for Toga. My job is to let them know when she arrives, and see how intoxicated I can get Will while they’re busy. Hence all the eye rolling. What am I, their butler?

I snort in a very unladylike fashion and head back inside, picking the mini CD player and a bottle of Baja Rosa. Popping in an 80’s mix CD I made earlier, I prop my feet up on the railing, listening to George Michael and smirking. What an appropriate song. The breeze picks up suddenly, and it makes my skin turn to gooseflesh. I chafe my upper arms with my hands, and then decide to open the booze and take a swig to warm myself up.

The strawberry tequila slides down my throat smoothly, and I giggle. I haven’t had this stuff in along time, and damn, does it go down easy. I take another hefty swig and sink into deeply padded porch swing, pushing myself with my feet whenever it stops. I keep up this pattern for awhile, taking a swig and swinging for quite awhile.

Suddenly, the buzz starts to kick in and the world is kinda fuzzy edged. I giggle and turn myself upside down on the swing, hanging over the edge and looking out into the yard. I stretch my bare legs up against the back of the swing and give it a tiny push, giggling madly as my head swims. I’m still in this position as Will and Toga climb up my front steps.

All the blood that has not previously rushed to my head makes a sharp U turn and settles into my cheeks as they stare at me. Toga bursts out into laughter and points, while Will stands back with a small smile on his face. I’m a bit too tipsy to right myself gracefully, but a draft warns me that the wife beater I’m wearing has ridden up my tummy, leaving most of my torso bare and calling attention to the fact that the boys hadn’t let me put a bra on when I dressed. I scramble up onto the bench, suddenly self conscious for no reason that I can fathom.

Toga’s still giggling and Will turns ever redder if possible, his eyes trying to skitter everywhere except the thin shirt covering my breasts. I shake my head to clear it, and grin at Toga.

“They’ve got a surprise for you, dearie.” Her eyes widen as I reach up and knock on the window three times to let them know she’s arrived.

“All of them? And me?”

I nod silently, watching Will seem to shrink back a bit as well. “C’mere Will. You gotta taste this stuff. It’s strawberry tequila.” Toga lifts a brow at me, and I shrug, gesturing toward the door. “Mi casa es su casa. I’m sure one of them will meet you inside.”
Will looks at Toga, who pecks his cheek and squeezes his hand. “Go ahead, Deli’s not gonna bite you.” She gives me a wink, and opens the door, heading into the house.

A slow grin creeps over my face and I watch Will’s face turn crimson again. I pat the seat next to me, and he sits down at the other end, perched on it like he’s prepared to run. I take another swig from the bottle and show it to him. “Wanna taste? It’s pretty sweet…”

He looks like he’s going to hesitate until he sees the challenge in my eyes. He nods, and I consider just handing him the bottle, but the alcohol has started to seep into my brain already. So I lean over and place a small kiss on his lips, flicking my tongue over his bottom lip quickly and sit back up.

His face is a mask of shock, but I see something in his eyes that makes me smile. He blushes more, and I wonder if I’m going to make him faint with just one little playful kiss. But he amazes me by whispering, “The taste from the bottle cannot equal your lips, Miss Deli.”

I actually start to blush, and I hand him the bottle to cover for it, trying to distract his attention from the redness creeping over all the exposed skin. He chuckles and looks at me expectantly. “What?”

“Is there a glass somewhere?” he asks, looking around.

I giggle and he gives me an odd look. “Just drink from the bottle, Will.”

“Oh, I would never—“

“You do at my house. Unless you want me to think you’re afraid of catching my cooties?” I tease, scooting over closer to him and batting my eyelashes coyly.

He shakes his head, a smile playing about his lips as he tilts the bottle back gingerly. I tilt it further, and some of the pink liquor dribbles out of the corners of his lips. He swallows the big gulp of liquor and shudders a bit, and I brush my thumb over his lips, wiping the stray drops away.

“Good?” I ask. He nods vigorously, and I laugh again, grabbing the bottle back and taking another swig. The radio starts playing one of my favorite songs and I sing along, bopping my head to music. I realize he’s watching me and I grin. “I love this song.”

“The shine in your eyes when you enjoy yourself is quite fetching,” he replies, his eyes following my movements unabashedly.

The look in his eyes makes the small porch feel even smaller and I get an urge to either move much closer or get into a more open space. I ponder it for a second, and for the first time in my life, choose the open space. I grab his hand and the tequila and pull him to wards the steps. He follows me around the corner a bit unsteadily, a look of amusement crossing his face as I stumble a bit here and there. I lead him to the pool side, gesturing to the back yard as if to say ‘ta-da’. I take another big drink from the bottle, and gesture for him to do the same. When he does, I wait for the right moment, and tilt the bottle high, making it dribble out of his mouth again, this time all down his chin onto his shirt.

He gives me a dismayed look when he sees his stained shirt, and I look him up and down, seeing for the first time that he wore the casual shirt and slacks that we’d talked about before. It makes me smile to see that he’d let his decorum drop a bit to come visit, and my eyes twinkle wickedly.

“I believe my shirt is quite ruined,” he says, a stern look on his face that doesn’t quite make it to his eyes.

I think he’s figured out what I’m about and I shrug negligently. “So take it off. No one out here to see but us. And while you’re at it, lose the socks and shoes. We can’t put our feet in the pool if you have loafers on.”

He grins knowingly, but doesn’t say anything as he starts unbuttoning his shirt. It giving him a bit of trouble, I notice, and it makes me smile. I turn away, standing at the table and removing one pin at a time from the pile of waves on top of my head. Unbelievably, I’m at a loss for what to do with him. I’m at an impasse with what I know I see inside of him, versus what I have seen on the outside, and it’s causing me to falter. I ponder how I’m going to get over this when I feel his hands on my arms, lowering them to the table in front of me.

“Allow me to assist, Miss Deli,” he says softly, his fingers sliding through my hair and picking out the remaining pins slowly. His coordination is now more pronouncedly impaired and I stifle a giggle.

I turn to face him, a smirk plastered across my features in hopes of hiding the shred of nervousness I’ve been feeling. “You know, since you’re half naked and standing two inches from me, I think it’s safe to say you can drop the ‘Miss”, Will.” I sense he’s about to protest and place one finger against his lips. “I know you respect me. I also know you’ll think of something else to call me eventually.”

He nods, and I remove my finger, leaning in to place a quick, fleeting kiss where it had rested and skip away to take another drink from the bottle. He follows me, determined to match every sip I take, and I suddenly wonder when all this booze is going to hit him. My own tolerance is pretty high, but I’m betting his isn’t, so I steal the bottle back and give him a mischievous smirk.

“You want another taste?” I ask. There’s an open invitation on my face and he moves more quickly than I’ve seen him move to date. His lips are on mine, and we’re kissing fiercely, tongue tangling together to the taste of strawberries. I suddenly know when the liquor’s going to hit him, because his hands are in places I know sober Will wouldn’t be touching me. At least, not this soon.

When we break apart, I’m slightly dazed and he’s smirking. Oh, great. Now he’s got the upper hand, cause I know I’m not exactly hiding what that kiss did for me. He quirks an eyebrow, giving me a curious look, and I wait for an explanation, willing my heart rate to slow down a bit so I can concentrate.

“I know I taste strawberries…”

He pauses, looking around for a moment, and I tap my foot impatiently. One thing a buzz does to me quickly is eat up my patience. “And?”

“Possibly, the scent of … cherries?” he asks, his eyes lighting up with mirth.

“Oh for god’s sakes!” I say, stomping my foot. “I can’t believe Toga told you that!” My face is beet red now, and not just with the flush of alcohol. I need to occupy myself in a way that will take some concentration, just so I can ignore the chuckles from where he’s standing behind me.

I climb onto the diving board and walk up and down it a few times, pondering just diving in. But I feel his eyes on me and an urgency to show off fills me. Not that this I unfamiliar, because showing off turns me on almost as much as kissing strawberry flavored poets. I lean down, getting my bearings and do a handstand, walking down the board slowly but carefully until I reach the end. I hear Will gasp, and I’m not sure if it has to do with my acrobatics, my surely flipped up tank top, or the fact that I’m slightly intoxicated.

When I reach the end of the board, I perch on it, pausing for effect, and then let my legs fall over my head like I’ve done a million times before, plummeting into the icy water feet first. I swim back up to the surface and see Will peering off the end of the diving board, waiting for me to emerge. I reach up and grab his hand, yanking him from the safety of dry land into the pool, and when he appears from underneath the water, I’m floating half on my back, my hands stacked beneath my head, grinning like the cat that’s caught the canary.

“Funny, is it?” he asks, starting to stalk towards me predatorily.

The quiet giggles that had been emitting from me stopped, and my throat went dry. I scrambled backwards a bit, caught by that blasted nervousness again, and only succeeded in trapping myself in one corner of the shallow end. He stalks towards me slowly, and my eyes skitter about, looking for a means of escape. Suddenly, I look at him and realize we’re swimming about in our clothes, and I start laughing.

He gives me an exasperated look, and I laugh even harder, clutching my sides. Sighing heavily, he leans on the wall next to me, waiting until I calm down. I lean my head back on the concrete and look up at the stars for a moment, and I feel his hand on my neck.

“What’s wrong?” I mumble when he gasps.

His fingers are running over the ragged punctures from the recent remarking, and I sigh at the contact. He blinks and yanks his hand away quickly, but I pull it back. “What…who did this? You appear as if you were attacked.”

“Oh, I was attacked. But in a very pleasant way,” I reply, my eyes glazing over at the thought.

“They hurt you. These are very… irascible marks,” he says softly, still tracing the wounds hypnotically. “How could they do this if they love you?”

It sounds as if he’s asking himself more than anything, but I have something to say on the matter, so I barge ahead. “I enjoy it. I mean, this one is a claiming bite that Raj reopened… it’s kinda different. But the others…” I lift my hair off my neck and show him the bite over the tattoo on the back of my neck. “The other ones…from other boys, are because it feels good.”

“Feels good? But the wounds loom so painfully. Your…mates act when,” he gestures to his face, “correct? I just cannot understand why that would be desirable. The demon is just untenable in my mind.”

I sigh heavily and pull his chin up, forcing his eyes to meet mine. “Because, my divine paradox, the demon is part of you, like it or not. It fuels the part of you that you’d rather stay in the shadows.”

He shakes his head stubbornly. “I cannot accept that. I am not that person.”

I bite my lower lip, trying to decide how to handle this. What the hell, I almost always jump in head first. Maybe this time it won’t bite me in the ass. I reach up and move the hand that’s still stroking the bite absently, and slide my fingernail under the scab, peeling it off. I wince a bit as the skin pulls, and Will’s eyes widen when blood starts to trickle out of the open wound, mixing with water and sliding down my skin in rivulets. I look deep into his eyes and say, “Yes, you are. Part of you sees this and howls for release…to taste it…to mark me. Because it’s inside you, just like the undercurrent of sensuality you hide so well in public. But you’re holding it back.”

His eyes fixate on the bite, and I move as lithely as one can in wet clothes so I’m pressing up against him. I can feel how hard he is, how much this is turning him on, and I lean closer, tilting my head to the side. He licks his lips, still transfixed by the little droplets sliding down my chest onto the tank top. I slide my hands up his chest, settling them on his shoulders, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

I can’t resist the urge to push a little harder. “Does it smell like cherries, too?”

His eyes flash gold and he yanks my face to his. I’m startled by the forcefulness, and I shudder a bit. I get an image of someone taunting a caged animal then opening the cage door, and although it seems out of character for Will, it’s strangely appropo for this situation. Toga has told me how sensitive he is about his game face, and I’m pretty certain he’s gonna lose control of it soon. He’s drunk and I’m pushing his buttons, and hopefully, I’ll get what I deserve.

The kiss he plants on my lips is not the most savage I’ve felt by any stretch, but it matches any of the rougher ones in intensity. I kiss him back, pulling his head down and crushing my body up against his erection. His muffled gasp of pleasure makes me grin, and I break off the kiss, pressing my cheek against his as we breathe heavily. A small, odd sound emits from his throat, and I look up, pleased to see his elusive game face in place. I know the proximity to the still dripping bite mark is making him struggle, but I refuse to let him out of my grasp.

“I cannot…”

“You can’t? Or won’t? You know I’m asking for it. It’s turning me on. Hell, it’s obviously turning you on. Go ahead. I want you to.” I play that last card reluctantly, knowing how much he loves to please. His face darkens for a moment, and I wait, holding my breath to see if I’ve finally knocked him over the edge.