1. “Come over here and make me.”
Felix likes to think he’s, y'know, a pretty humble guy. If it’s serious, he can overlook something or look for an alternative solution to the problem. But overall, he does like to think he’s humble enough not to rise to a challenge so easily without any vicious prompting.
But PJ, the little shit, has been pushing Felix’s buttons all damn day and honestly? It’s getting really hard to ignore the constant jabs at him.
They’re sat on opposite sides of the couch and Felix is truthfully quite glad, or else PJ would’ve ended up with a bruised face by now.
A pink Wii controller sits in his hands, eyes focused on the screen where Daisy sits in her kart, pulling ahead of the race. There’s no room for bragging on his upcoming win - the first one in two hours - when Felix is so strung up on his frustration.
He can see the finish line straight ahead, it’s an easy win, it’s so simple, it’s right there and-
A banana peel stops him in his tracks, right fucking there in front of the finish line, letting PJ speed by as Yoshi for an easy win. Felix breathes out slowly and places his Wii controller on the arm of the couch calmly. A huff of laughter beside him mocks his loss and Felix watches as CPUs pass the line too, as Daisy sits in her kart just a few mere steps from the finish.
“Y’know Felix, you shouldn’t have been bragging all day about being ‘the master of Mario Kart’ if you can’t even win a-” PJ begins, his tone lacing itself with mockery and teasing. The smirk on his face only grows when Felix cuts him off.
“PJ,” Felix says. His voice is as calm as he can make it without sounding too pissed. “Could you maybe, I don’t know, shut the fuck up?”
He didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but PJ doesn’t look bothered at all.
“Yeah? I mean, I could, but that failure was pretty laughable, Felix…”
“How about this, Felix,” PJ is setting aside his green controller when he looks back up at his face when they began to trail back to the screen, and PJ’s smug fucking face only makes Felix want to punch him even more. “Come over here and make me.”
And fuck, if Felix doesn’t do exactly that, nudging PJ’s legs apart a little wider to crawl between and push on his waist, cornering him into the couch arm.
“Fuckin’ prick,” The blond growls against PJ’s lips, relishing in the noise he makes when he pushes their hips a bit closer and PJ pulling Felix closer to him. “Always gotta rub it in my face, make your win even worse than it already is.”
He’s all teeth and biting and harsh kisses, frustration pouring out into each contribution to the brunet’s bruising lips and each single push of his hips against the smug bastard’s own, causing another noise and the fingers clenched onto the back of his sweater to squeeze a little tighter.
“Not talking now, huh? Nothing else to say about me, PJ?” Felix huffs a bitter laugh against PJ’s now successfully faintly bruised lips. The other whimpers out an unintelligible noise of words; it’s hard to tell what he’s saying, but it makes Felix feel accomplished either way.
With a lightly fisted hand in the curled locks and smirk on his own lips, the blond watches the sharp green eyes now dazed with a certain tint of lust. “You did ask me to shut you up, PJ, I was only doing as you asked.” He laughs again, his thumb trailing the slightly swollen bottom lip. Another broken noise falls from them and Felix smirk grows.
