smilestopscars | A House, Currant, Maine, Wednesday

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A House, Currant, Maine, Wednesday

Today's Coterie job had been a dirty one.

No, not the fun kind.

But not the supremely unfun kind, either. Just... literally dirty. There'd been a whole lot of mud involved. It had gotten everywhere, which was why Ezra's first order of business upon getting home had been to take a long and very thorough shower.

Second order of business, upon getting out of the shower, was to throw his muddily destroyed clothes in the trash. With a great big sigh, because he'd liked that shirt, dammit. Just, you know, not enough to go through the trouble of washing it.

Third order of business? Locating clothes to wear.

[ooc: NFB due to distance. Posted with one in mind, but open before her!]

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"Or we could talk about how I don't share food items," Ezra countered. "And about how that's a very good policy on my part."

Kathy immediately saw the flaw in her request. It had been a request.

"I'm sure I can't imagine what that policy might be," she announced, shifting a little in her seat. Specifically, moving into position to steal a cookie. "Please do explain."

Hashtag fox culture.

"I already said what the policy is," Ezra replied, shifting the cookies further away from her reach. Be less obvious, darling. "Not sharing food. That's the whole of the policy."

"Well, then, how that policy is good for you," Kathy said smoothly, debating just using her speed to snag one. She was pretty sure she was faster than he was--foxes weren't known for being three times faster than humans, after all--but that would be in a flat out race, not a test of reflexes. Besides, just using speed was boring. There was no skill in it. It would be like wrestling him down and just taking them, if she were as strong as Dante or something.

...On the other hand, wrestling him down would be a fairly effective way to distract him long enough to steal the cookies. And break all the rules they'd so carefully put in place. Same for most of the other ways she could think of to distract him--and she couldn't guarantee she wouldn't be distracted herself even if she tried.

Seemed like she was faced with quite the decision, then.

Meanwhile, Ezra was wondering whether it'd be worth it to just lob the cookies across the room if she made any kind of an obvious move for them. "I don't feel like I should have to explain the usefulness of my policies," he retorted. "They are what they are. It's really quite simple, darling."

Well, it would be fun to see if she could catch them before they hit the ground.

"You're the one who suggested we talk about them," Kathy pointed out. "I was just following your lead on possible conversation topics."

"Well, I say a lot of things with no intention of following through on them."

It was like his own personal Get Out of Jail Free card! Because he was terrible.

He was also guarding the cookies close to his side, for now.

Kathy rolled her eyes and shifted back to the other side of the couch, giving the cookies up for now. "You're no fun at all," she declared. "Are we going out for lunch or ordering in?"

Ezra almost told her she was partly to blame for how much of his fun had been stripped from him, but then thought bettr of it.

Mostly because he was loathe to imply all his fun was tied up with sex. But also for the wording. And other reasons.

"Does it look like I'm in the mood for peeling my fantastic butt off this couch?" he asked, instead.

"But, darling, I'm sure you know exactly how difficult it is to appreciate your fantastic butt while it's on that couch," Kathy pointed out. "For all I knew, you wanted to go out in public and show it off."

"Do I need to repeat myself?" Ezra replied, slouching theatrically further down on the couch.

That was some commitment to slouching, honestly.

"Way to sound like my dad right there," Kathy snorted, pulling out her phone so they could order. "But in lieu of you repeating yourself, you'll need to decide what we're getting, since I don't know any of the restaurants around here, never mind those which specifically deliver."

Ezra sighed theatrically and dug out his own phone. It was where he had all the important information, after all. "Fine, fine, you dictator."

Not at all hyperbolic, Ez.

"I'm the utter worst," Kathy agreed, voice dripping with false sympathy. "All that bringing you cookies and buying you lunch I'm doing. However do you survive?"

"I don't know, darling," he sighed, tapping around his phone for some menus. "Probably on sheer fabulosity."

"Well, that explains my decline," she said, draping herself across the couch with her wrist over her forehead and absolutely no regard for Ezra's personal space. "A clear lack of fabulosity, which is definitely a word and not at all ridiculous sounding."

Hey, now, there had been a class on it at Fandom so it was definitely a word and not just a descriptive quirk Ezra shared with Isabelle Lightwood in trying to explain their essence.

Anyway.

Ezra poked her in the side with two fingers. "Yes, I can see the fabulosity has left you."

Because if there was one thing Fandom was known for, it was its academic rigor!

With great effort, Kathy picked up her head, sticking her tongue out at him. "But my penchant for being a brat-magnet remains intact," she declared.

"I don't know, I don't feel that attracted to you."

Liar. But he would not dispute the fact that he was a brat, because he very much was.

"Bet I could fix that real quick" was not a smart answer. Nor was it one that high school-Kathy would have ever dared say, especially not to someone like Ezra: sexy, sophisticated, and experienced.

But high school-Kathy wasn't now Kathy and here she was, saying it all the same.

"Of course you could," Ezra replied, fixing her with a look. "You could have me on my knees, begging for mercy or release or whatever you chose in less than five minutes, darling."

You go for the not-smart answer, Kathy, you get reminded who you were dealing with.

He looked back at his phone and the takeaway menus there.

"But you won't."

Kathy sucked in a breath at that. Of the three men she'd slept with, Ezra had always known best how to devastate her with words alone.

"You're right," she said, voice a little raw. "That's not where we are yet." She regarded him with deep, dark eyes for a moment and added, "Makes my plan to kiss you after getting a cookie feel like babytown frolics, have to admit."

She couldn't pull off casual, but she could at least be honest.

Ezra didn't look over at her - possibly out of some sense of self-preservation - but he quirked a lopsided smirk anyway.

"You have a better chance of a kiss than a cookie, dumpling."

"I know," Kathy said with a wry smile of her own. "For one thing, I wasn't planning on asking, but offering."

Just a kiss, and probably only one at that; Kathy knew when she was playing with fire even if that didn't always stop her. But they'd been hanging out and talking and, well, kissing Ez felt right. Not in the way way that pushing him to his knees and seeing what happened did (which felt right in her pants, but not her brain), but in a way that had more to do with warmth and fondness and comfort.

Ezra exhaled through his nose, slowly, before he turned his face towards her again. "I would sadly have to decline, in any case, darling," he told her, lightly.

He didn't trust himself.

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