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punkscowardschampions · 6 years ago

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Rio & Buster

Rio: Didn't say you had a girlfriend Rio: but you can tell her she's hitting me up with the back off too late and under fucked up misunderstanding, like 😂 Buster: Didn't say it 'cause I don't Buster: If some girl wishes that's her problem Buster: And yours now like 😂 Rio: It ain't funny, blowing up my phone making me look suspect, like Rio: anyway, Nance gave me the lowdown already so I know she's a cunt so I don't have to hold back Buster: Who's laughing? Buster: Send her my way if she's that desperate Buster: The lads are boring like Rio: Seriously? Rio: No I will Rio: if you're gonna do your own like that you can sort it yourself, not her pimp Rio: not* Buster: Whatever Rio: It so isn't but that's on you Rio: Are you lot out tonight then? Buster: Course Buster: You think I'm waiting at home for you, babe? Rio: Har dee har Rio: sounds like you had a cosy night in in mind tbf Rio: where you going then, wanna meet up? Buster: Not got the light or kettle on like Buster: Sick of the lad already? Rio: Yeah, what you had in mind Rio: Nah, but 2 ain't a party Rio: and I'm going home tomorrow so Buster: Wanna see if he can hang Buster: Fair Buster: I'll bring the party to you then, babe Rio: Pretty much Rio: You're feeling chipper today Buster: I'll insult you when I get there if you really want Rio: Not my kink Rio: would get us back to the status quo though Buster: Just buzzing 'cause you're off home and outta my way like Buster: Can't blame me Rio: I bet Buster: Not looking forward to kicking it in your own ends any more or what? Buster: I know you'll miss me but come on Rio: Nah but it ain't gonna be all fun and games when I get back is it Rio: Shit to sort Rio: but gotta be done Rio: and you wish Rio: I got reason to come back and annoy you some more now Buster: You're not gonna get grounded Buster: Don't worry about it Buster: And I know, kid Buster: Always making it obvious, Cavante Rio: Don't be daft Rio: I've gotta look out for Nance Rio: avoid another ex Rio: all that drama Rio: You're OBVIOUSLY deranged, McKenna Buster: You're used to all that shit many times over Buster: You got this, ma Rio: Shut up! 😂 Rio: Doesn't mean I don't get tired of it Buster: It ain't my fault you've had more exes than I've had fam dinners Buster: Not even starting on family bullshit of yours Buster: Well I'll sort you a decent line when I get there, put a pep back in your step, yeah? Rio: Yeah it is Rio: No show, you are Rio: and bet you've had more, just 'cos you ain't claiming 'em Rio: Go for it Buster: Fuck off I'm being nice here Buster: Trying to give you a proper going away and you're trying to fight me Rio: 🤷 Rio: Soz Rio: Only way I know how, clearly, all those exes, like Buster: What's wrong, babe? I know you ain't gonna miss me that bad so what is it? Rio: You shouldn't fuck Chloe Rio: Idk, you shouldn't have put that in my head Buster: I haven't Buster: She's not my type. I know what you reckon but I do have some standards Rio: Alright, good Rio: Too many lines already, I'm paranoid Rio: she's bad news Buster: Come get some fresh air with me then Buster: Plenty of people say that about me, like. Not that I'm trying to make a connection to her. Fuck that Rio: Might help Rio: Thought you were with your boys though Rio: Yeah but, at least you're upfront about what you are, good or bad Rio: 🐍 Buster: They'll be fine if I don't hold their hands through every song, babe Buster: She's really got to you, yeah? Rio: I'm just being dramatic, too many strangers here Rio: but she did a number on Nancy, that I know for facts, stand by the bad vibes even if I could relax on it rn Buster: Where are you, specifics. I'm come and get you if you ain't coming out Buster: Find those cunts later Rio: Idk, ages away from yours Rio: we're meant to be but the pre-party still going strong Rio: I'll meet you somewhere? Buster: Keep your phone on, I'll be that stalker and work out where you are Buster: Meet you near Rio: Not just a pretty face, ladies and gents Rio: It's alright, just pick a club, no need to ruin the night Buster: At least you're finally admitting how hot I am Rio: 🙄 Really needing the ego boost, yeah? Sure 👌😂 Buster: Find you in The Grand, yeah? Rio: Got it Buster: Half an hour max Rio: Cool, I'm nearer than you so I'll see you in there Rio: *He'd obviously been offended she wanted to leave the party and get a headstart on him on the town, but it was way too soon to show it (thank fuck) and still save face, so she got out without much pouting and whining. Only needed to take one bus, turns out she was about five minutes down the road from Clapham, tops; good to know. Maybe that was why she was feeling so out of it? Not knowing where she was, and who with? Been in that scenario before though and she'd not got this rattled so- blatant bullshit. Rio didn't plan on admitting it to him, but it had way more to do with Buster McKenna than was healthy. Head fuck. This is why they avoided each other, and had for a while now. It weren't no good trying to just be nice to each other, always went too far. And arguing and being cunts didn't exactly cool the energy between 'em either. No, ignoring each other's existence was key. And yet here she was, going out to party with him. Well fucking done, girl. She rolled her eyes at herself, jogging up and down on the spot impatiently, near enough to the front of the club's queue now she needed to remember to look her hottest so they'd let her in faster. And result. She was in, no coat to put up, so she was away. Barstool, 'round of vodka shots, sorted. Toes tapping, faster than the beat of this shit tune. It was pretty early still, the club only now filling up. Shouldn't have an issue finding her. Not that it was a good idea but finish what they'd started now, like.* Buster: *The lads had been chilling at his since the afternoon doing fuck all of much but getting on his nerves, and when Barnaby suggested getting the drinks in and making something of the night he wasn't even the most relieved of the lot of them, like, so face saved there. Nice one, lad. It was the first decent favor any of them had done him in Christ knows how long, not that he was letting it show. Not a fucking amateur at that either, cheers. There was a girl he'd swiped that was why he was keen to be off. No other reason that they'd had to be privy to. James had been chatting about his cousin since he got with her and Buster wasn't trying to add to that conversation. They didn't know what they were fucking saying anyway. Silly pricks. Let them wonder and speculate over his antics tonight with the Tinder blonde, or any other, they loved it. He had his own mind full of bullshit that he personally didn't love. Worry was a new emotion regarding Rio, one that he didn't feel confident over dealing with, and a lack of confidence was even newer territory than giving a shit about Cavante's emotions. Or so he told himself before he racked up the lines to turn all that off for a while. Worked out proper well for him that had, here he was off and running to cheer her up or what the fuck ever. What was his fucking goal meant to be? Soft cunt. Gonna send her goodnight texts later or what, like? Stupid. Get real all he was gonna do was buy her some watered down drinks for as long as she let him. Big fucking deal and no great help. Still, as soon as he was in he took the stool next to her and did exactly that, ordering more of what she already had.* Rio: *And just like that, he was there by her side. As if this was all standard and they did it all the time. This week maybe but neither of them should get too fucking cosy with the idea, like. She took her share of the drinks without protest, even though she had nothing but empties to offer by the time he arrived. * Next round, like. *She shrugged, spinning the nearest shot glass aimlessly, avoiding eye contact She then spun herself to face the dance floor, like she was surveying the talent from her perch on high. This was fucking ridiculous. He'd be saying as much if she didn't act fast. Jumping up, the tunes still not there but she'd have to make do. As she weaved her way through the crowds, she took a second to break the rules and make eye contact, looking back at him and motioning with a question of 'are you coming?' hanging in the air.* Buster: *He wasn't listening to her 'cause that's how focused he had to be on not staring at her. She looked so fucking good. He'd said as much the other day, believing it when he did, but this was different. He felt it bones deep and more crucially, didn't know how not to show he was being affected. Fuck's sake. No more coke for him until he got his shit together like. Sort your head out, you twat. He shook it, playing as if he was shrugging off her offer to pay 'cause it was better she reckoned he was trying to buy her off again than- What? For the second time tonight he was already asking himself what the fuck he was trying to achieve. Shit. At least before he could chat any more nonsense to himself, or her, Rio was up and away. Not far enough given how easy dancing made it to be close, like, but a reprieve he could count in seconds. Breaths to take. Buster should've known in the next minute she'd steal it all off him with a look. Course. It was an old game. And he'd never once played by the rules, had he? It was too late to start now. He wasn't no choir boy and she was leaving in the morning she'd said. Fuck it. Not a fucking amateur, remember? He'd call her bluff and cheer her up before this shit tune was done. It was just dancing, who the hell was he if he couldn't handle that, yeah? Rio: *Again, screaming internally, asking what the fuck she thought she was doing and why the hell she was doint it; All the while making no effort to slow down, never mind stop. So glad he couldn't read her as well as he claimed, the fucking laugh he'd have about how much she was silently protesting (much too much for it to be anything but mortifying; and very bloody telling). Still, she knew the feeling of eyes lingering on her body well enough by now to know that's what was happening, what he was doing, despite himself. Despite herself, and what a good, sensible girl should do, she smirked, smug satisfaction at taking the lead in both senses. Fuck it, she could say it was the coke making her act up. If he was feeling brave enough in his own good behaviour to question it after. Not likely. So why not? She wanted this right now, so she was going for it. Whatever 'it' was. Stop thinking. Let your body takeover completely. With that in mind, or out of it, she began to move, getting closer to him than was necessary, routine full of 'almost' contact, designed to tease.* Buster: *The song was still shit but he wasn't listening to it either now. Couldn't hear anything but the sound of two heartbeats, his thumping enough to be shaming if he gave a fuck about anything other than getting closer than she already was to him, and hers once he was, echoing such a similar beat. There was smugness in having her rhythm there alongside the intrusion of his, literally hammering away at her pretense of utter control too. Loud and clear for him, drowning out everything that had been said before. Bullshit. Necessary but still ridiculous to look back on from where they were now. Nice try, Cavante, 'cause guess what, I know you are, babe. He wore a smirk to match hers, letting his 'routine' in turn spell out that the teasing shit had gone on long enough, while the hand which had settled on her waist as he moved pulled her body into his. He'd snorted his fair share of lines if he needed something to blame it on other than just being fucking over it and wanting to play a new game and it was unlikely she was gonna challenge him at this point. Hardly blameless herself, yeah? Whatever.* Rio: *She looks down at where his hand has ended up, eyes traveling back up to meet his, slowly, appreciating his body as she did so, letting him know she knew it was anything but a happy accident, but that she wasn't going to say anything either way. Hardly could now, could she? A silent deal being made on the floor tonight. 'This stays between us.' It didn't mean anything, like. Just sexual attraction, however fucked. She wouldn't hold it against his character if he didn't against hers. What happened in the club, like. Such a fucking cliche, Christ; but she felt like being one just this once if it felt this good. She had her back towards him now, winding up and down, hips clashing, making her ache. Before Rio could stop herself (a reoccurring theme of her time with him, it seemed), she had placed her hands over his, still on her waist, and was moving them down, to where she wanted them right now. Fuck. He was definitely going to pull away now, probably have some choice words for how sick and creepy and wrong she was and she didn't have a leg to stand on, no case to fight. Before he could, thinking fast (hopefully faster than he could), she pulls gently on his neck, so she can reach his ear to shout into it, shit tunes always being played too loud.* You promised me a line. Buster: *He shouldn't be this turned on by a few dance moves and unwavering eye contact but he is and there was no way she couldn't know, bodies pressed against each other as tightly as they were. Fucking hell. Yeah, he could lie to himself that it was the fault of the rich, white girls he usually approached not knowing how to dance without doing shit imitations of their current favorite pop icon or being too eager to check him out (sizing him up the same as he did them) to hold his gaze, but that's all it'd be, more bullshit when he'd already said no more. It was too fucking obvious what this was about and what he wanted. And every movement of hers was as telling. None more so than when she stopped herself, 'cause it was forced in a way that none of their other actions had been, thought out instead of fluid. Of course, immediately after came a brief moment when he reckoned she was gonna nibble on his earlobe or something. No going back then, like, but he should've realised the headfuck was gonna come from a more familiar (as far as Rio Cavante was concerned) direction. Christ. When was the last time another girl had left him wanting more, this much and this soon? Buster couldn't remember. Couldn't think. State of him. At least her pulling away to speak let him breathe. He smirked again, faking regaining more composure than he had around her as standard, never mind on a night like this. Nodding his head in the direction of the toilets briefly, he leaned in to reply. * Come on, let's get you sorted. Rio: *She took him by the hand, pulling him through the crowd with an impatience they could both pretend was about coke. Yeah, right. Neither of 'em was fooled or in the mood for fooling now. Her mind had been fully made up for her when his reaction of outrage, disgust, and horror hadn't come; but the opposite had, the hardness she felt tight against her mirroring the ache she felt, less obvious outwardly but, was it though? He knew. She knew he knew so time to do something about it, boy! Now or never, like. Door swinging behind 'em, pulling him into the first free cubicle, reaching behind his frame to lock up, purposely trailing her hand against his exposed forearm, outstretched fingers softly trailing along the veins there, taut between ample muscle and goosebumped skin. Fucking hell. It wasn't her fault he was so god damn attractive. Regret it in the morning. She'd be long gone by then. Breaking eye contact away from where it had fallen below the belt (oops), she grinned, green meeting blue, breathing as laboured as heart.* Go on then... Buster: *The last thing he should have done was followed her into a space where every time his body shifted (however fucking subtly. Or not) it brushed somehow against hers, bringing them back to teasing each other, 'cause unless he pushed her fully against the cubicle wall there was no way to create the blatant friction they both craved, and he wasn't about to do that. Not yet. If she wanted coke, she was gonna have it. Simple as. Just as well that act was though, distracted as he'd become, like. If Buster let himself look back on any of tonight (not wise but nevertheless still likely) he'd pat himself on the back for once again not being a fucking amateur, fine chopping the lines on his coffee table before he came out so all that was left was to unwrap that shit, lay hers out and roll up a note. He'd been on autopilot getting the drugs from his pocket, breathing ragged as hers, the feeling of her stare (and where it was purposefully aimed) leaving him incapable of coherent thought about anything else. Fuck. He wanted her so bad. His own eyes fixed on the locked door, checking and rechecking, focused solely on trying to do that until the memory of her touching his arm resurfaced and then all he could think of was the idea that formed. He smirked for...what a third time? ... Christ knows, before laying her coke out on another, higher patch of exposed skin, eyebrow raised, wordlessly asking Rio how badly she wanted her share now.* Rio: *And there it was. Another silent challenge, a dare. No need for fucking words creating any unwanted space between them, made her wonder why they'd ever bothered when this was so, SO much better. No comparison. Of course, the answer was they bothered so they didn't end up here but she wasn't listening to sense tonight, fuck off. Right now, she WANTED to be here, nowhere else she'd rather, frankly. Fret over it later, like. Or not. It felt TOO damn right to call it wrong. So she wouldn't. And he wouldn't. And no one else need ever know. She wants to hesitate, knows she should. Eyebrows raising to make some display of being all 'really?', like she's so scandalized or not into it, only doing it 'cos she couldn't refuse a dare, could she? But Rio Cavante didn't even flinch, crashing into him full force, pushing him against the door, arms wrapped around his neck to steady herself, steady them both. This close, the heat of him unbearably sexy, his body was so toned and fucking perfect, Christ! She felt dizzy with it, sweat was slicking the white powder to his naked skin, collar bone a natural shelf to hold it. The temptation to lick it off him like salt for a tequila shot was almost too much but she didn't want to be accused of wasting the coke, so she pressed her nose into him, snorting it with ease, shuddering more from the sensation of being this close than anything else, tipping her head back in pleasure, hoping he didn't hear the small moan than found its way out.* Fuck! *Snapping her head back, rubbing her nose with a sniff, damn. Okay. She obviously had to one-up him. What else was a girl to do, yeah? She moved away, to the bag still laid out on the top of the loo, grabbing it 'fore he had a chance to stop her or do anything else to drive her crazy. Shit, she had to take back some control, like! She smirked back at him, the solution to her problem of how to best Buster McKenna becoming obvious as she looked down. Racking it up on her ample cleavage, as if to say, triple dog dare you, McKenna* Buster: *There was half a second as his shoulder blades hit the door, rattling the hinges with the force of their bodies colliding again, closer than they'd been yet somehow but still, at the same time - impossibly- not enough, that he wanted to tell her 'fuck the coke' or something like it. Swore he could almost feel the words tumbling out, begging practically for her to just fucking kiss him instead. But he didn't. Or make a move to himself either. As soon as he heard her moan he knew why, even though they'd waited years and his entire body was insisting that he couldn't any more, refusing in the form of his own shudders as he stood there, knees weak from barely any contact. Fuck's sake. There was so much promise in that sound that Buster grinned, holding her gaze with baited breath until she gave his eyes no choice but to travel with her, settling exactly where she planned for them to. * Oh fuck. *If she said anything about him stealing the words out of her mouth later (not that they could chat about any of this casually) he'd deny it, not realising an echo had escaped from him as he launched himself towards her, lifting her slightly so she rose to meet his bowed head easily. Finally Rio's back landed hard (thankfully against wood same as his had rather than cold, dirty porcelain) with force enough that she'd feel it tomorrow. He wanted that more than anything, even as his line disappeared, snorted all too soon. Fuck her trying to pretend she didn't remember, if her mind pulled that shit her body would call her a liar. He'd made sure of that, like. There was always more he could do though, and he didn't hesitate to put his mouth on the skin she'd already offered him, kisses desperately hard and bruising as his hands trailed lightly down her body, skimming each curve more brazenly than he'd ever looked her up and down before. Christ that seemed like a lifetime ago, her beckoning him onto the dance floor. Not that it mattered. Too much had happened to go back now and there was well more than he needed to happen still.* Rio: *Her cries, a mixture of pleasure and pain as she was unceremoniously slammed into the wall, caught in her throat. Like she couldn't express how much she wanted this, NEEDED this. And she couldn't. No moaning or dirty talk was going to cut it but she could but try. Knowing he knew regardless, and that he felt it too, only amped it up further.* You want me so bad, huh?* Stating the obvious for her own satisfaction, no question mark needed. Muffled curses at him; warning him if he dared stop, to do more, worse, faster, harder, NOW; acting as their version of pillow talk. Pulling his hair, novelty of being above him in the literal. Rio found purchase, sitting atop the toilet, kicking the seat down so he could kneel as she spread her legs for him, pushing his head down, showing him where she needed him.* Please, Buster, please... *She didn't care that this was a club bathroom, that people could definitely hear them, that they'd be hearing a lot more soon if she had anything to do with it. That he was her fucking cousin. Fuck. She just did not care about anything but having him touch her, fuck her. But before he could, there was a monstrous bang on the door that rattled the hinges harder than they had only a few minutes previous.* Shit! Legs clamping shut, jumping down from the seat, pocketing the drugs in her bra without hesitation, she clambered over him, pushing him back, so he was sat down.* I got this, yeah? Worry about yourself. Catch you later... *Rio murmured, squeezing his hand in the hope he'd fucking listen to her, not trusting a coked out McKenna to deal with what was clearly a bouncer and not just a punter desperate for a piss, like. She squeezed out of the smallest possible gap in the door, shutting it behind her, so Buster wasn't spotted.* Buster: *Fuck me. *Holy shit, every word out of her mouth was fucking him up but it was the begging that REALLY sent him over and made him use a phrase that was ridiculously literal. He couldn't help it, knowing that she wanted him bad enough to say that shit out loud what he hadn't when the coke first came out, made more than his knees go weak. He was about to insist that she told him what she wanted again, just to hear it, biting his lip to prevent a moan from coming out before the sentence did when something makes everything stop. It turned his wants back to fantasy, yet again becoming a scenario that wouldn't happen. 'Cause he isn't stupid. As much as many other parts of him were desperate to ignore the pounding on the door, his head, coked out as it is, still knows that they can't. The hired muscle out there wouldn't let them. Shit. It was somehow the unrealest part of this, fucked up as that sounded even to no other ears but his own, that this was how the night was going to end, not how he'd finally let himself want it to. They'd both given in, fully, and there was no pretending at this point (whatever he might convince himself of later, dismissing the night as a weird headfuck etc etc) the drugs were why he wanted her so badly. And worse, all they were now were the reason why he couldn't have her. Fuck's sake. Buster hadn't felt a surge of anger overwhelm him this utterly -suddenly too- since his sister left. Wherever he looked was flooded red, and for Rio's frantic movement, the only thing he managed to do was bite his tongue and clench his fists. Until she'd gone and then he stood up, immediately pacing (an agitated cokehead cliche) the cubicle transformed into a cage he didn't dare leave in this state. Just as well 'cause the next second had him striking out, kicking out hard at the space where their bodies had been, with as much power as he felt had been robbed from him. The wood protested one last time, drowning every sound in his head out with the crash, thank fuck. The cubicle didn't fall to pieces, of fucking course, 'cause it was another thing he needed to happen and he sank back onto the toilet seat, taking shallow breaths.*

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