*whispers* for the drabble thing, if you're still up for it: shevine #1 heh
#1 Come over here and make me
Adam looksdown at the chair in question, one hand smoothing along the armrest, then back upat Blake, “It would appear so,” he cheekily replies. He takes a sip of hisdrink – or maybe it’s Blake’s, he’s not too sure anymore; he likes takingBlake’s things just to rile him up – and rests further back into the chair.
“Well, getyour ass outta it.”
“Nahhhh,” hegrins up, “I kinda like it here,” then wiggles his butt into the chair foremphasis. That move earns him an eye roll.
“Get outtamy chair jackass.”
“Why don’tyou come over here and make me.” Adam taunts. Blake’s eye twitches in annoyancebut there’s also something else, something morein those eyes; a small gleam that jumps at the challenge and it makes Adam’sstomach flip.
Blake gentlytakes Adam’s cup from his hand and sets it aside. With eyes locked, Blake’s longfingers dances across the top of Adam’s hand before his grip circles around hiswrist, giving a light tickle to his pulse point. Adam’s breath catches and inone swift tug he is up on his feet. For a quick second he’s taller than Blake;looking down into those too blue eyes he knows he lost this round. Blake’sother hand settles on the small of his back to bring their bodies flushtogether.
“Blake,”Adam whispers, and maybe it should be a protest; they have an audience for fuck’ssake, but Blake’s hands are warm and pleasant on his body, he wants to feelthem everywhere and he can’t bring himself to care who sees.
“Adam,” Blakewhispers back before he spins Adam off the chair to place him down beside it.
He looks upat Blake once again but this time Blake is the one that grins. “Looks like I madeyou.” Blake lets him go, the warmth of his hands fades as he sinks downinto his chair.
“Whatever,Shelton,” Adam marches back to his own chair, his heart still racing well intothe next performance.