Chapter Text
When Darcy asked me to come over and get drunk with him after work, I'm not sure exactly what prompted me to say yes. Maybe it was because I, like he, was incredibly frustrated and upset after a hard day (there had been a virus attack on the Pemberley computers...the result was not pretty). Maybe it was because I was sure he was joking, because, come on, that's such an Un-Darcy thing to say. And okay, maybe I was hoping that he wasn't joking, because it actually sounded kind of fun.
Well it turned out that he certainly wasn't joking.
Hours later found us sprawled out on his couch, pretty drunk, an empty wine bottle or two on the table in front of us.
He was laughing at my story of the first time I ever snuck out of the house at night (Long story short: Lydia convinced me to do it...she was 12, I was 15, and we only got to the end of the street before we got scared and decided to go back home). It was nice, seeing him so relaxed. Seeing him have fun. He was always so uptight, and, just, it was a nice change, that's all.
"So what about you? Any wild childhood adventures?" I asked, admirably not slurring a single word.
He chuckled. "I wasn't exactly a wild child."
"Not a single foray into teenage rebellion?"
"Not a one."
I sat up, intrigued. "So, like...wait...okay...what about college? Surely, you did crazy party stuff in college that more than made up for all your teenage good behavior?"
He shook his head, looking slightly uncomfortable. "I didn't even drink before I was 21," he confessed.
"Wow," I breathed, amazed. "Okay okay okay, this is not okay. We have to fix this. We," I announced, "are going to do a bunch of fun things...okay, maybe not that fun actually, but essential things that you should have done in your youth."
"Okay," he said, and he was more talking to my mouth than talking to me, but honestly, after all the alcohol we'd had, I was impressed that either of us were talking at all.
"Have you ever played spin the bottle?"
"No."
"Good," I said.
"Good?"
"Yeah, good. Spin the bottle is totally lame, and it's one of the more unfortunate high school traditions. Listen to me Will, if you ever wanna randomly kiss someone, just freaking kiss them." And then immediately his lips were on mine and I kissed him back for just a second before pushing him away. "Will," I said, my words indignant, but my voice laughing.
"I was just taking your advice," he said, the alcohol making him bold and unapologetic.
"Well, you didn't let me finish. I was just about to caveat it," I retorted. But I was still laughing, the alcohol making me willing to let the kiss go without overanalyzing it or in fact analyzing it at all. "Anyway," I paused, "if you're done..." He smirked and motioned for me to continue. He looked so pleased with himself that I couldn't help but stick my tongue out at him and that was a mistake because he immediately swooped down and closed his mouth around it, kissing me once more. Anticipating that I would pull away soon, he began this kiss deep, and though it was only a second before I pushed away, in that second I was completely swept away.
"Stop it!" I scolded, and you could hear that I was slightly breathless, and I was still drunk enough not to really mind that he was kissing me, but I couldn't stop from analyzing a little bit. Because it was a good kiss and even though my hand was firmly planted on his chest, signaling him to keep his face away from mine, my mouth was straining upwards of its own volition.
He just shrugged and gave me a cheeky grin, his face once again far above my own. "Sorry. I couldn't help myself. Please continue."
Continue? Continue what? Oh. Right... "Where was I? Oh, spin the bottle! Right. Well, you're lucky to have never played it, because let's be honest, it's actually kind of gross. So, um, yeah, we do not need to give you that experience. Which is good, because there are only two of us, and spin the bottle is extra pointless with only two people," I said, clearing my throat slightly, because the thought of playing spin the bottle with him, just him, was becoming more and more appealing, but no, no, we couldn't. It was bad enough that he'd already kissed me (twice). The last thing I needed was for this night to devolve into a drunken make out session.
"And what exactly is wrong with drunken make out sessions?" The tipsier part of me protested. "It's not fair to him. He kisses me because he's in love with me. I can't kiss him just because I like kissing him." Rational Lizzie replied.
Okay, I should probably stop talking to myself inside of my head and go back to talking to him. This is about showing him how to have some fun! Not about kissing. Remember that Lizzie...NO KISSING.
(Okay, maybe a little bit of kissing. BUT ONLY IF HE STARTS IT.)
"Ahem, so, truth or dare?" I asked quickly, trying to snap myself out of it.
"Truth or dare?" he asked, confused. And as he peered down at me with a slightly out of focus gaze, I wondered how much of tonight he was even going to remember. (Or, for that matter, how much of the night I was going to remember. My thoughts kept kind of sliding in and out of focus. Which did not bode well.)
"Have you ever played it? Truth or dare?"
"Oh. No."
"Well...once again, it's not as much fun with just two people...And it's also not really the kind of thing that adults do. But I can't, in good conscience, allow you to go through your entire life never having played truth or dare." I looked up at him, waiting for a response, but he just grinned at me in silence, like a big, handsome, idiot. Wow, he was really drunk. I realized that I was grinning back just as dumbly. Maybe I was kind of really drunk too. "Will?" I prompted. He reached across and starting stroking my hair. "WILL."
"Okay, okay, sorry," he said, removing his hand. I couldn't help leaning into it slightly as it brushed past my cheek. "Okay, right, truth or dare," he said, looking slightly uncomfortable, but mostly as if he was willing to do anything I said. "That sounds...It sounds...alarming."
I rolled my eyes. "Do you wanna go first, or me?"
"Uh...you?" He said uncertainly.
"Okay, truth or dare?"
His eyes widened in alarm, "No no no, I meant...you go first as in, I ask you first."
I rolled my eyes again. "Oh my God, whatever Will, let's just play the game."
"Okay, truth or dare?" he asked quickly.
"Dare," I answered without giving myself time to think about it because I didn't want to think about it and because not thinking had been working out pretty well for me all night.
"Make out with me!" he declared gleefully.
"Oh my God Will, you are the worst."
"I dared you. You have to do it. Because I dared you."
"Who knew that you'd have such a one track mind when drunk?" I muttered under my breath.
"What?"
"Nothing, just, okay. I will make out with you. Because you dared me." That totally counted as him starting it. "But," I added quickly, watching his face light up in a goofy grin, "just for one minute and yes I am going to time it."
His face fell, but then lit up again, and then kind of contorted in confusion, and I couldn't help but burst out laughing, watching him struggle to react to the news. He finally stopped trying to work out if he should be happy or upset and just kissed me. But he quickly pulled away. "That doesn't count. As part of the one minute. That was just me kissing you. I dared you to make out with me, so that means you have to make out with me. Not that I'm not going to participate," he quickly struggled to clarify. "I just mean that, you know," he paused, frustrated and adorable, trying to get the words out. He finally just settled on "you have to start it." Which, of course, was the worst possible phrasing he could have used, considering my previous mental promise to myself.
"It's a technicality, but I'll allow it," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. Because the truth is, I was nervous. Because if I kissed him and not the other way around, even on a dare, I didn't know how much longer I could keep making excuses to myself.
"Excuses for what?" Asked the voice in my head. "Shut up,” I shot back.
Okay, I really need to stop doing that, because it's weird.
You're drunk, you can talk to yourself as much as you want.
Good point.
"I'm waiting," prompted Darcy, and if you listened very closely, you could hear the slight edge of nervousness in his voice.
The height difference made kissing him a bit of a problem. Sure, we were sitting down, but his head was still high above mine. So, taking a deep breath, I clambered onto his lap, straddling him. I watched his eyes widen in surprise as my knees tightened around his hips, and his shock made me feel less nervous. In fact, his reaction made me kind of gleeful, and I couldn't keep a giggle from escaping my lips. His breathing was already heavier, and I hadn't even started kissing him yet. My phone was sitting on the console table behind him, and I leaned forward to grab it, inadvertently (okay fine, totally and completely on purpose) pressing my entire body against him in the process. I grinned when I heard his breath catch as I snaked my arm around his neck to seize my phone. By the time I was settled back on his thighs, phone in hand, he was looking at me with eyes dark, as if he was barely holding on. (Holding on to what exactly, I'm not sure.)
I set the timer to one minute. And then I looked deep into his eyes, and yeah, okay, he wasn't the only one having some trouble breathing. "Starting...now," I said, pushing the button without breaking his gaze and then quickly setting the phone down somewhere, anywhere, before lunging forward and pressing my lips against his. Immediately, his arms were around me, crushing my whole body against his. I flung my arms around his neck in response. His mouth was hot on mine and my lips easily parted to the insistence of his tongue and "closer, closer," I murmured against his lips, because we still weren't close enough, and he squeezed me harder, but it still wasn't close enough, and I felt like I was going crazy, like I would go crazy, if I couldn't get closer closer, closer still to William Darcy.
I moved my hands to his face, running one along his jaw and the other reaching to comb through his hair, before grasping a fistful tightly. The hand that was on his jaw slowly slipped down to his chest, and before I knew what I was doing, I had unbuttoned a button or two, and my hand was under his shirt, exploring his hard muscles. And his hands? Oh, he was not being shy with his hands. One had by now trailed down to my ass, which he was firmly squeezing, and the other was fondling my breast. Over my shirt. And I couldn't help but wishing that he had slipped his hand under it, but I supposed that even drunk, William Darcy had a limit on how far he would stretch propriety. But I must admit that even over my shirt his hand on my breast felt good, the way he was cupping and stroking and grabbing and squeezing, and I wanted more.
I deepened the kiss between us, though I hadn't realized it was possible to make it deeper, and I pressed as closely against him as possible, our bodies completely flush, and I could feel him hot and hard beneath me, and I barely resisted the urge to grind my hips against his, and just as I was starting to lose track of where he ended and I began, there came the shrill piercing of an alarm jolting me back to reality, and that was it, one minute was up.
I quickly detached my mouth from his, ignoring the (very large) part of me that was begging for more. But I couldn't quite let go of him just yet, so I slumped forward, relaxing my body, my arms around his neck and my head on his shoulder, catching my breath. He relaxed his body too, looping his arms around my lower back, holding me gently as my breath hit his neck. And then without even knowing what I was doing, I found myself whispering, "I love you."