Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2588624.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      From_Dusk_Till_Dawn:_The_Series
  Relationship:
      Kate_Fuller/Richard_Gecko
  Character:
      Kate_Fuller, Richard_Gecko
  Additional Tags:
      dive_bar, Punk_Show, First_Kiss, First_Meetings, Bathroom_Sex
  Series:
      Part 4 of November_Prompts, Part 1 of Touched
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-11-09 Words: 2647
****** Your Kiss (like the devil's got your hand) ******
by DarlingNikki
Summary
     What if Kate and Richie had met before, in a dive bar, when Kate's
     trying hard to forget everything wrong in her life and just be
     someone else? Richie and her have an instant connection, and it leads
     to more firsts for Kate.
Notes
     This is for prompt five for my November Prompts challenge, Punk Show.
     So of course, I wrote smut. It's what I do well, apparently. Also, if
     anyone's wondering where prompt four is, it's a non fandom poem
     posted over on my tumblr.
     This fandom has ate my brain over the last week, by the way... I'm
     not sorry. If someone wants to talk/drop prompts/whatever, I can be
     found at tumblr here.
She can feel it in her veins. The woman on stage screams, low and guttural, and
if you pay attention you can hear the lyrics, feel her words running through
your body. Is this what being alive feels like, she wonders? She's bored, but
her best friend had convinced her to sneak out of the house through her bedroom
window to come with her to a shitty dive bar the next town over. Kate's not
sure why set lets Amanda drag her into these situations, but despite
everything, she's Kate's best friend, and that's reason enough Kate supposes.
Beside, the house isn't the same anymore, not since Mom died in the accident.
It feels like a tomb, and Kate just wants to do something different, be someone
different, even if it's just for one night.
She just feels out of place here. The lights are dim, you can barely make out
all of the artwork hung haphazardly on the walls, Kate keeps staring at a
mounted deer head framed by crossbones. For some reason she can't take her eyes
off it, it's probably the fact that the deer head is mangy and covered in fake
blood. It's pretty gross looking. The entire bar is pretty gross looking. She'd
braved the bathroom when she and Amanda first got there, the walls were covered
with stickers and scribbles left behind by other occupants. Nikki and Ashley
<3's Cutthroat,and Call Liz for fun. She'd scrubbed her hands thoroughly, and
hoped that it was cleaner than it appeared.
Amanda had ran off with some dude, covered in colorful tattoos from his hands
to throat, and Kate hadn't seen her since, so she's just passing time staring
at the walls, while she tries not the feel self-conscious while surround by a
bar full of people who look like they belong here looking askance at the young
looking girl in jeans and a baby pink shirt. Amanda's her ride, and she'll come
back...eventually, she just runs on her own time, and Kate should have known
that this was what was going to happen. Should've, would've, could've,she
thinks to herself.
She can feel someone's eyes on her.
She surreptitiously looks around, and her she catches the bluest set of eyes
she's ever seen, hidden behind a thick pair of glasses. The guy is tall,
handsome, and dressed way too well for this particular bar. He's in a black
suit, with his shirt buttoned up all the way to his throat, and no tie. He
looks like a bible salesman. He smirks, and she looks away. Her face feels hot,
and she knows she's blushing bright red. She hopes the lights are dim enough
that he can't see. She looks back up at the deer head.
“Eyes find eyes.”
She whips around, and there stands the man right behind her. “What?”
“Eyes find eyes, it means you can always feel someone eyes directed at you
because you're feeling their energy directed at you.”
“Oh,” she smiles uncertainly at him, “You may look more out of place here than
I do.”
“Yeah, just a bit.” He pulls out a cigarette and lights it.
She watches, and impulsively asks, “Can I get one of those?” He holds out the
pack and she takes one. She leans forward and he holds the lighter to the tip
and lights it. She sucks in and coughs, she's never smoked before. She'd never
took Amanda up on offers to sneak out until tonight, and she's never flirted
with older men before. She's a brand new girl tonight.
“You're not inhaling.” He watches her lips wrap around the filter of the
cigarette again.
“I'm not a smoker.” She shrugs, “I just felt like trying something new.”
He laughs, “Here's to trying something new.”
“So my name's Kate. What's yours?”
“Richie. Nice to meet you, Kate. Can I get you a drink?” He nods over at the
bar.
She's never drank before either, but she doesn't tell him that. Instead she
says, “Yes.”
She flicks the ashes from the end of the cigarette carefully into an ashtray on
a nearby table. She leans against the wall and watches him go to the bar, hand
over some money, and then he walks up to her holding a bottle filled with a
brown liquid and two glasses.
He sits them down at the table, and pulls out a chair for her. She smiles, and
primly sits down. He pours two shots and then slides one across the table
towards her. He picks his up, gulps it down, and slams the glass down on the
table. “Gonna drink yours?”
She blushes again and carefully picks up the glass and mimics his motions. It
burns all the way down her throat, and she can't help but scrunch up her face
in disgust at the taste. She wipes at her mouth, and he's chuckling at her.
“Looks like you're not a drinker, either.”
“Yeah, not really. But I'm trying new things tonight?”
“Right.” He pours them both another shot. “Let's do this one together.”
She nods and picks up her glass, and when he drinks, she drinks as well. This
one goes down easier, but she still can't help but grimace at the taste of it.
He pours himself another drink, and downs it. Kate blinks, the world is
slightly wavering, and she idly wonders where the hell Amanda ran off to. She's
not seen her in a while, but at least she's got a handsome guy keeping her
company. She doesn't feel so awkward now, and she's hyper aware of the man
sitting across the tiny table from her. Their knees are close enough to gently
brush against one another under the table, and she can feel how warm he is
every time they touch.
“So, Kate, what's got a good girl like you in this hole?”
She giggles, unsure of why, “Snuck out with a friend, but she ditched me, and
she's my ride home.”
“That's unkind of her. So why'd you sneak out?”
“Needed to get away. Home feels like a tomb, right now.” Her words are slurring
slightly, and she seems to be dropping the subject of every sentence she says,
and she's probably said too much. She doesn't care right now. “Pour me another,
please?”
“Sure, babydoll.” She downs it, and this time she manages not to grimace.
“So?” She chirps, “You're out of place here too, so why're you here?”
“Business, not pleasure.” He grins boyishly at her, “My brother's meeting
someone and didn't want to come along.”
“What kind of business?”
His tone is cold when he replies, “None of yours.”
She blinks and looks down at her hands, playing idly with the shotglass,
suddenly nervous when before she was surprisingly comfortable with this man,
“Oh.”
“Sorry, I'm sorry, that came out mean.” He pours another shot, “I didn't mean
to upset you.”
She looks back up, and his face is soft, remorseful. Their eyes meet again, and
she's struck by how blue his eyes are. She leans forward and presses her lips
to his. It's completely chaste, just a meeting of her lips to his. She pulls
back and looks at him, his eyes are closed and he's completely still, she leans
forward again and presses her lips to his again. She's slightly off center this
time, and she catches his bottom lip between hers. They sit there carefully,
pressing their lips against each other for a few scant seconds, before she
pulls back again. Richie's eyes blink open, and he seems to drink her in. She
blurts out, “It's okay. No worries.”
“What made you do that?”
“I just felt like it.” She shrugs.
He watches her, he looks at her like she's something precious, something he
covets. This time he's the one to look away from her. He's not blushing, but he
looks unsure, out of his element. It's a cute look on him, and can't help but
reach out for his hand. Her fingers trace over his knuckles and over the
calluses on his hands, before intertwining with his fingers. “Did you mind?”
“No, not at all.” His fingers grip hers. “Can I kiss you again?”
She can't find the words to say yes, so she nods instead.
He leans forward, and their lips are touching again, but she can feel his
tongue running gently at the seam of her lips. Her lips fall open, and then
they're french kissing. She's done this before, with Kyle, sneaking in the back
of the church, but this is different than Kyle's kisses were. Richie kisses her
with intent, he's gentle, and he's not slobbering all over her face. She feels
a tingle run down her spine, and she sighs against Richie's mouth. She grips
his hand tighter, and she nibbles at his lip caught between hers. He's the one
to groan against her lips, after that.
He pulls back, and his other hand reaches up to smooth her hair back from her
face, tucking a loose strand behind her ear. “You taste sweet.” His blue, blue
eyes, that she could fall into right now, darken. “I wonder if you'd taste as
sweet everywhere else?”
Her face is definitely red again. No one's ever said anything like that to her
before...but she's loose limbed and curious, and she's pretty sure she left her
inhibitions behind with the third shot she took. So she replies, “Want to find
out?”
He smirks, and gets out of his chair and pulls her up by where their hands are
still intertwined. His free hand grabs the bottle, and he leaves the glasses
behind on the table. “Follow me, babydoll.” He pulls her in his wake toward the
back of the bar, where the bathrooms are located. They go into the ladies room,
and he locks the door behind them.
He takes a deep pull from the bottle. She watches his Adam’s apple bob as he
swallows. He wordlessly holds the bottle out to her, and she takes a small sip,
then another before she sits it on the back of the counter behind her. When she
turns back to face him, he's crowding into her space, pressing his lips back to
hers. This kiss is once again different, new to her. This kiss is hungry, like
he's trying to devour her whole, pressing her back to the counter, and causing
a throbbing between her thighs. She meets his kisses artlessly.
His hand untangles from hers, and then his hands snake around her pulling her
close. One briefly tangles in her hair; the other traces the line of her spine
down over her thin t-shirt. Then both his hand cup her bottom and lift her to
sit on the edge of the counter. He pulls away, and she's left panting as he
begins to mouth a wet line across her throat. His hands wander, one slides
smoothly under her shirt, to unclasp her bra. He pulls away again and looks
down at her face, “You good?”
Eyes find eyes, floats through her thoughts, and she reaches to the hem of her
shirt and pulls it over her head in one motion. He begins to kiss along her
throat again, going lower, while he pulls her bra off and drops it to the
floor. He licks one of her nipples, and Kate's head lolls back and she moans.
She can feel his mouth curve pressed against her skin, and his hand plays with
the other nipple, rolling it between his callused fingers. Her hips roll up, to
press against him, and she can feel a hardness there pressing against her. It
feel like fire against her skin, even with the material of his pants and her
jeans separating them.
He moves lower, mouthing against her belly button, and she lets her hands fall
to his head, combing through his hair. His hands move to her thighs and push
them farther apart, then he teases along the boundary of her jeans and her
skin. His fingers nimbly undo the button on her jean, then slide the zipper
down.
She lets him. In fact, she wraps her legs around him, pulls him close, and uses
his body to hold herself up, so that he can pull down her jeans and her
panties. The tile of the counter is cold against her body when her bare skin
rests against it, and he shuffles back, pulling her pants down to her ankles
before he moves back towards her. He plants kisses against the inside of her
thighs, and his nose is right against her and he takes a deep breath in and
says, “You're wet.”
His words shoot through her, and then his tongue is running against her. He
licks and laps, suckles and kisses, and she can't form a coherent thought. Her
fingers are pulling against his head, and she squirms against his mouth. It's
too much, different than the tentative exploration she's tried late at night
with her hands. His hands wrap around her thighs holding her still, holding her
in place while his tongue plays her like an instrument.
Her voice sounds foreign to her, gasping and moaning, uncaring of the noises
she's making, uncaring of the fact that a simple lock is all that separates
them from a bar full of people. She wantonly grinds her face against him, and
she can feel something building inside of her. It's building, building, and
everything he's doing is pushing her over a steep ledge.
Finally, something in her shatters, and she shrieks. He strokes her thighs as
she comes back down to earth, and then pulls away and stands over her, where
she's slumped boneless on the counter in the dirty bathroom. He leans down, and
kisses her again, and she can taste herself, sweet and musky on his lips.
“What do you know? You do taste sweet everywhere.” He smirks, yet again, and
pulls her off the counter. He bends down, and pulls her jeans back up from
around her thighs, and while she's busy blushing and fastening them, he picks
up her fallen shirt and bra and hands them over to her. She jerkily pulls them
back on, and tries to smooth her hair back, but it's sweaty and tangled, and
she fears the second she walks out that door everyone will be able to read on
her face what she just did with this stranger in a bar bathroom.
Richie just watches her, drinking straight from the bottle again.
She turns to walk out, but as she's fumbling with the lock, he presses himself
against her back, and nips at her throat. Her hands slip and she leans back
into him. He undoes the lock for her, and his hand at the small of her back
guides her back out the door.
The band has stopped playing, and there's a line of impatient looking women
waiting just outside the door. She ducks her head, and doesn't meet any of
their eyes. Someone lets out a wolf-whistle, shouting, “Get it, girl!”
She's mortified, and starts when someone grabs her wrist. She finally brings
her eyes up, and it's Amanda looking shocked, “I've been looking everywhere for
you! I was worried, Kate!”
“It's nothing, I just had to get away for a minute.” Kate stutters, and Richie
laughs behind her, his voice deep and dark, sending a shiver down her spine.
She turns to look at him, and he says, “Looks like you've found your friend.
This is where I leave you then.” She nods, and he bends down one last time to
press their lips together again, as chastely as their first kiss had been, then
he's walking away, heading towards a shorter man similarly dressed to himself
standing by the bar looking pissed off.
She doubts she'll ever see him again.
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