You know what I miss and haven’t done in a long time? Making out in a movie theater.
Neither of you paying much attention to the movie because you’re both too busy trying to figure out an excuse to shift closer to the other. To touch somewhere casually, then slowly slide that touch to somewhere not so casual. Overreacting to jokes or jump scares solely to justify moving your hands or faces somewhere a little more fun.
Pulling someone’s hand into your lap to trace lazy circles on their palm while you pretend to have been listening to the last 10 minutes of the movie. Placing kisses on the back of their hand. Their wrist. Their forearm, upper arm, and shoulder, until your lips are suddenly on their neck. Your teeth are on their earlobe. Stifling your giggles and hearing them stifle gasps.
Fingertips finding shirt hems and waistbands as you sink lower into the chairs, but closer and closer together. The patrons in the seats below never noticing as your gentle kisses slowly turn into nibbling and the leaving of hickeys on their throat. Your playful touches turning to something a bit more desperate. Hips bucking against your hand while you whisper in their ear to quiet down if they want you to keep going. Any thoughts of returning focus to the movie evaporating when you hear them gasp, “pleaseee”
Pulling them into your lap and pressing your mouth to theirs because you can’t stand to tease them anymore. The faint aftertaste of popcorn salt at the corners of their lips and blue raspberry slush on their tongue. The way they rock back and forth against you, trying to get any amount of friction without making noise, because the thought of waiting until you get home is unbearable.
Their hand laced into yours as you hurriedly pull them down the empty halls toward that one bathroom at the far end of the building that nobody ever seems to use, right after you both silently decided that this movie kind of sucks, anyway, and you slipped out the back of the theater. Pressing them to the beige tile wall and picking up where you left off, your mouth frantically mapping out every muscle and freckle and divot on their neck and throat, your hand under their shirt, and your name on their breathy whispers. Pulling their leg around your waist, because goddd, you have to be closer right now, and all these stupid fucking clothes are in the way.
Feeling the heat on their skin. Under your mouth. Radiating on their abdomen and between their legs when you finally yank the button loose to slip your hand into their jeans and tease them through the fabric of their underwear. Wishing to god or the universe or anyone at all that you could both just teleport immediately back to your place because you have to go down on them right. fucking. now, and the 20 minute drive home is a wholly unbearable thought.
The sound of an employees-only door opening nearby and a cart full of janitor’s supplies slowly rolling your way. Startling, then giggling and quickly attempting to put each other back together as best you can, pulling clothes back up, or back down, or back on, as the case may be. Fixing their hair and looking into their mischievous eyes, which glint in that way that silently pleads, “but what if we have time for just one more kiss? One more touch?” Biting your lip and shaking the thought of it from head before pulling them off the wall and spinning them towards the door.
Picking up in the middle of some nonsensical and fabricated conversation in an attempt to look nonchalant as you stroll back through the halls and towards the nearest exit.
And starting all over again the absolute second you’re both in the car 🖤
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