He fucking knew better and that was the hardest fact that you desperately clung to. He knew not to go there; not to cross that imperceptible boundary and waltz right on the fuck in without a decent care in the world. In fact, you recently entertained the idea that he hadn't the gumption to do it. You thought that maybe, however fucked over in the head he could be that even the slimmest, most disrespected moral still survived deep inside that jackass's head. Guess you were completely wrong about that, now weren't you.

"Listen, I was drunk. I didn't mean it. Wasn't like you'd fought anyhow."

Shuddering against his previous words and trying frantically to erase them from your mind was close to impossible. They stuck with you irrevocably, like some kind of overplayed summer one-hit wonder, repeating its beat over and over and over and over and over and over—

"Dave?" she shattered your thoughts softly, if at all possible. But she was Rose, and as evidence supplied, she could do anything. Even take your mind off it for at least one delicious second. "When you feel organized enough to share, I'm open to you." she finishes, running her slim fingers through your white blonde hair affectionately.

You mumble a reply, something indistinguishable that made no words yet spoke elite volumes. You'd get around to sharing the reason for barging into her home without invite at ungodly hours of the night sooner or later. Hopefully later, as at the moment all you wanted was the peace she offered into your thoughts. You snuggled closer, wrapping your left arm around her torso and shifting your legs closer to the back of the couch.

She continued stroking your hair once you'd found yourself suitably comfortable with your head in her lap and body stretched out across the couch. Rose never minded your visits. Furthermore a part of you always wondered if she could somehow sense you'd arrive here, even when it happened to be your unexpected drop by. Your eyelids felt heavy with the horridly needed sleep you'd yet to invest in and as she began humming—humming something indistinctly familiar—your body began to give up the nonessential fight of consciousness.

"Rose?" you moan, allowing your crimson eyes to drift closed while you turned you head only slightly to get a better look at her. Her own lavender eyes were cloaked as well as she breathed her song under her breath and stroked your corn silk hair. After a slight pause she replies, leisurely lifting the hem of your T-shirt and beginning a award worthy back scratch that came damn near close to making you forget exactly what you'd meant to say.

"Yes? Have you reconsidered?" Rose asked, gradually running her nails across the bare surface of the small of your back. Your silence makes her shift slightly out of reflex. What was if that you were going to ask? It was so important…wasn't it?

Your eyeslids dropped for the last time that night and your body suddenly felt like it heavily weighed tons. Mumbling under your breath before remembering you then answered in a hushed tone. "I came here so sudden because I needed to—to just get away from there a while." You squeezed your eyes shut tighter, the cause of your stay now stringing up on the backs of your eyelids.

"I understand." She answered and a part of you wholly believed her soothing words. You wanted to desperately. But you knew she couldn't honestly comprehend how you felt and just how tragically this entire ordeal had transpired. It was impossible, you reasoned, because not even you could absolutely come to terms with what you'd done.

"No, no Rose you don't." you grumble balling your fists in your eyelids and vehemently attempting to scrub the images behind them away. They wouldn't leave; were permanently imprinted there in radical ink. You hesitantly drew in a shaky breath that racked your body with a shuddering trembling that began in your chest.

"You don't." you repeat biting down on your lip and wishing against all that you could forget who had bitten that lip only hours ago. It killed you to remember it. Perhaps because of the emotions that accompanied it or maybe it was due to the lack of disgust you felt toward him. Either way, you had to—needed to—tell her. You didn't care if you were being unreasonably selfish; wanting more than anything to hand off your burdens to someone else. But you had to say it before it ate you from twisted inside to bruised out.

"I fucking madeout with Bro. How could anyone understand that?!"

"Brrrrooooo? What's up for chow tonight?" you groaned, pilfering through the sparse contents of the fridge and decidedly coming up empty. Nutella, Applejuice, block o' cheese, two katanas, and Ketchup. Damn. You needed to go grocery shopping pronto.

"Fuck it. Ordering pizza." You shout back into the living room where the indistinct jabbering of Twilight Sparkle and Rainbow Dash dueling it out with snappy comebacks and equestrian puns. Without another thought you headbutted the fridge door closed and turned promptly on you heel towards the living room.

"Do you have any cash for…" you trailed off noticing his current unconscious status sprawled across the couch. You'd been calling at him for the past ten minutes about tonight's dinner menu, oblivious to the fact that he'd clocked out. One gloved hand rested on his chest that rose and fell in even, sporadic breaths that were deeper than the state of sleep he'd fallen into. Lying on his back with his other arm braced behind his head and discreet black hat pulled down over his face you knew the chances of waking him were slim.

"Pppsssstt…" you hiss, nudging his knee with your foot and yearning not even a single grunt of awakening. You pull your face to a displeased frown while crossing your arms over your chest and sauntering closer. Skeptical you surveyed him with obvious interest. Shades removed and lips parted for air you could have believed he was bluffing. A well disguised ambush could come from anywhere.

"Bro. Wake up. Hungry." You elaborate reaching up your hand to grasp the wire frame of your own shades and slipping them off. Aimlessly you twirled them between your fingers, considering slipping his wallet from his pocket. It'd be awkward and would require the skill of a trained assassin since it was in the back pocket he lay on. His left side to be exact. You deepened your frown from over here on his right side where you stood.

Challenge accepted.

You folded your shades and hung them on the collar of your T-shirt silently while harboring a fresh smirk on your face. Moving as quietly as possible you brace you knee in the couch cushion and grabbed the back of the couch for support. You bit your tongue lightly, gradually nearing your hand to his pocket you glance back at his impassive face. So far so good, you reason irrationally.

Freezing place you heard him groan softly either from sensing your presence or the god awful stampede going on from the TV. You swung your head around to give your best glare to RaindowDash and the stupid dragon thingy. Changing your attack plan you hastily reached over towards the inntable beside the couch and clutched the remote in your right hand. You flicked off the television and release the breath you hadn't realized you were holding when the silence again filled the room.

You could faintly hear the osculating fan running and the perpetual hum of the apartment building. The soothing sounds were accompanied by the general noises of the city outside. You absently chucked the remote at the matching recliner and flinched when it didn't produce the dull thump you'd intended. Well. Shit.

You felt him stirring at the plastic clattered to the floor and shattered apart. The batteries rolled across the floor and came to deafening stop against the far wall. Seriously?! "mhh, Dave…?" he mumbles reaching the hand that had been lying on his chest to clumsily grab for the hat obscuring his eyes. Shit~

You panic, shoving your hand into his pocket and retrieving the black leather wallet without a second to spare. He tensed knocking the hat from his face and unveiling a skeptical expression and narrowed eyes. You quickly tried to move away only succeeding in your inevitable capture.

"What are you doing?" he barks securing a hand around your forearm and shifting uncomfortably. You watch apprehensively forming a response that slipped from your mouth before you could bit back your impulsive tongue.

"Yoga." You say biting your lip afterwards and tightening your fist in the beige fabric of the cushions. He rolls his eyes shaking his head slightly and retorting with a disbelieving gruff. "At one A.M.?" you pause taking your eyes off him to glance at the large gear clock at the end of the hallway and finding out that it was indeed such a late hour. No wonder you were starving.

"Well. Y'know. Early bird catches the worm, right?" you reply with a toothy smile you hoped he'd believe. Yet you were caught dead, you vaguely realize as you notice his eyes flick to his wallet in your hand. You see his demeanor change as he draws in another breath in a condescending fashion you knew would be fuel for a parental lecture.

"Were you trying to steal money?" he asks accusingly raking his eyes over your bluffing face and back to his wallet. Your face reddens as you see the blatant disappointment darkening his eyes. You lick your lips before replying quickly. "What? No! Or, ah, not exactly." You falter and look away from his examining gaze. Sitting back on his hips despondently you finish by tossing the leather wallet back at him.

He caught it with one hand while the other opened it quizzically. "Then what were you doing, Dave?" he asks again, folding it closed and dropping it on the inn table. He turned his attention back to you as you crossed your arms over your chest and replied angrily. "I was just getting money to pay for the pizza I ordered, jackass."

It might not have bothered you as much if he hadn't had to check, just to make sure your word could be backed up. One misread gesture and you'd lost some of his valuable trust. "And you couldn't of just asked?" he snaps furrowing his eyebrows and watching you with faint amusement. "You were asleep." You say rolling your eyes and knowing you must have looked like a tantrum throwing three year old.

"You could have woke me up." He finishes mocking your pouting face. Your expression then just as quickly shifts to a dark frown that he mirrors. You grind your teeth as he crosses his arms over his chest and gazes back superiorly. "Fuck, stop watching me like that." You growl through your teeth shifting your weight and leaning forward as to get off him.

"Language." He scolds promptly grabbing your arm and holding you by your intense glare. Speaking of, you realize with a ping of concern, guess whose shades were removed? You could feel the almost imperceptible weight of them leave your shirt collar as he filches them from you.

Immediately, you're put on edge watching him fiddle with your sacred property. "Give them." You threaten in your demand snatching for them only to have him jerk away. You lose your balance for a moment, mortified when you fall forward to brace yourself on the arm of the couch.

He chooses not to ignore that split second snip of humiliation in your exposed eyes. That was something you could see lit a spark of amusement in his tangerine eyes. God you hoped he wasn't going to play another one of his fucking games with you. With a sickening feeling sinking into your gut, you realized he would.

"You'll have to get them yourself, David." He chased, clicking his tongue and shaking his head at you lightly. You narrowed your eyebrows at him, not giving a single fuck if he knew how displeased with this fresh turn of events you were. And more importantly a part of you hoped he would drop it seeing your disapproval.

Apparently, to your understanding, he didn't. Biting down on your tongue you almost hid the yelp of pain when he promptly pulled his knees up, forcing you to sit straighter while pushing you forward. You wouldn't admit defeat and he knew it. However only he would know to use that against you.

"Is there a problem?" he asks innocently while digging his knees into your shoulder blades. You plaster a sneer to your face and try to keep your voice straight when you reply. "Not at all." You adjust your seat and arch your back forward lessening the pain in your joints and back. He smirks back at you cracking his knuckles and finishing. "Good to know."

With a grunt of effort he pushed you back with a forceful shove to the chest. You teeter of balance before falling back onto the couch between his outstretched legs. You snarl at the knee that still dug into your shoulder blade as you try to move your weight from his lap. Frankly, you had hoped he would actually drop it.

Sitting up with a chuckle you watched powerless as he set his hands on the top of your thighs, rubbing the leather palms of his fingerless gloves across the black denim of your jeans. You swallow back a crude insult and prop yourself on your elbows behind you. Immediately, your face blushes rosy when you notice his reason for laughing at your humility.

Fuck, did he really have to put you in this…position? "Get off, Bro!" you shout at him, losing your composure for a moment when he slides his knees forward. It forced your own knees apart more and only allowed him to dig his into your lower back. He smirks lightly when you brace yourself on the cushions and move back.

He stops you by leaning forward and removing his wondering hands from your thighs. Instead he cages you in by gripping the arm rest behind you. With a surge of pleasure you found yourself titling your head back against that arm rest; right between his hands. You bit your lip to restrain the strained moan aching to force its way from your throat.

What the fuck was wrong with you? He was practically molesting you and yet were you enjoying this? His eyes searched your face as you cheeks flushed scarlet to match your darting eyes. You avoided his orange iris like the plague and instead focused on the blades of the ceiling fan idly spinning against the Texas heat. Out of the corner of your eye you see him tilt his head to the side and examine you further.

"Are you enjoying me, Dave?" he asks with controlled bemusement. He didn't sound the least bit surprised by your reaction to him and frankly that irked you more than what he was doing to you. "Fuck no! Get off!" you spat at him, leaning back and trying to shift from his hold. Your attempts were futile. Moving from his hold only tightened his grip. And brought him down on you more.

"You aren't even trying." He chides you as you promptly stop your struggles. Digging your heels into the small of his back and arching yours to loosen his grip. You throw your head back and groan in frustration as your eyes squeeze shut. Without your notice his face now hovered inches above your exposed throat.

"Admit it and I promise I'll stop." He hisses before his tongue darts out against your year. Immediately your protests are cut off by your blatant surprise as he then wastes no time in trailing his mouth down your throat and along the side of your jaw. Your breathing becomes labored and your fists ball in the white fabric of his polo while he then moves to stare you in the eyes. Jegus fuck you hoped he didn't—

You gasped against his mouth when it suddenly crushed against yours. In defiance you make yourself purse your lips in a firm line and squeeze your eyes closed against the scene unfolding before you. Trying to turn you head away, you feel his hand promptly gripping your jaw to hold you in place. Shit shit shit shit!

Without warning he rolls his hips forward causes your eyes to fly open in surprise and pleasure just as your mouth opens for a strained moan. He took his opportunity and molded his mouth to yours. Tongue finding yours with skill he then showed you just how well he was at this. Your bitten down nails dug into his back as he braced himself against the arm rest and suddenly thrust his hips forward.

You saw the black spots invade your vision as he broke away in response to your cry of release. You grind your teeth hating how good—great—amazing—this felt. "D-don't—" you were cut off with your own substantial treachery.

Your will was crushed when your own body betrayed you when your hands moved you're his sides and instead moved to his neck. Your left hand clawed into his thick blonde hair with the other roughly gripped the back of his neck.

Pulling his hair you force him back to you, stunned with your own actions. His mouth opened against yours hotly to subsequently steal your breath. At this, you indistinctly felt his hands leaving the arm rest to catch the hem of your shirt. Your fists pulled at his hair as some silent order as the supple leather of his gloves pressed against the area above your navel.

Without your consent, you notice the curious hand that had pushed your T-shirt to your shoulder was inching back toward your jeans button. Fuck, were you really ready for that? Honestly, it more than likely wasn't that big of an issue for him, you reasoned. He'd had plenty of experience that showed in how he handled you. No matter how forceful.

Your hands loosen in his hair and your lip trembles against his almost imperceptibly when he unbuttons your jeans, yet he still notices. Without a second thought he removes that hand from your unzipped and unbuttoned jeans. Maybe he cared more than you thought? It certainly didn't see like he did, from your perspective that is.

"Shit." He groans pulling away from your mouth and bracing himself on the arm rest of the couch once more. He watches you catching your breath as he gradually does the same while his eyes scan your face. Your hands had fallen from his hair and now rested in white knuckled fists on your bare torso. A red blush lights your cheeks as he continues to stare at your flustered face.

That sick bastard must really enjoy this, you thought moving to prop yourself on your elbows as to move out from under him. It only brings you closer to him as well as intensifies the scarlet sheen spreading across your cheeks and flushing the constellations of freckles there. You slum on one forearm and use your free hand to push against his chest.

"Alright this time," you draw in a shaky breath and continue in a severely tremulous voice. "seriously; get off." He seems to come back to his senses at blinks slowly at you. You couldn't read his face, as if nothing was new. Clearing your throat to break the practically tangible silence you added in a steadier voice.

"Bro—" he cut you off, suddenly dipping back down to your mouth. The breath caught in your throat and forced a strained moan to push its way from your mouth. Was he going back on his promise or did he believe you weren't being sincere in telling him to stop? You hoped for the latter yet another scenario picked at the back of your mind.

You remained supported by your forearms while his palm pressed roughly into your back. Allowing your eyes to drop closed again and your lips to part, you decidedly surrendered. Screw all this fighting. Besides, hadn't you wanted attention in the first place?

You gave a hiss of pain when the door buzzer sounded, taking him off guard and causing him to bite your lower lip. Without a second to spare he pulls away and directs his present awareness towards the rust painted door of the apartment. The buzzer sounds again, alerting you to the visitors amounting impatience.

Fuck. The pizza.

"I'll get it." You snap, shoving with all your adrenaline charged strength against his chest. With a displeased groan he moves back to kneeling over top of you. Vehemently avoiding any eyecontact and untangling your legs from his took enough time for the delivery boy to grow especially imprudent and now bang his fist against the door.

By the time you were scrambling off the couch and zipping your jeans, he'd taken to shouting. "Two large pineapple pep's for complex D19! Give me my fucking twenty-seven fifty; I got another order—" swinging the door open you caught one look at the pimply teens stunned face before you blew past him. Bro could handle the pizzas. You'd decidedly lost your appetite.

You didn't even bother with the elevator, having no time for it. Instead you mounted the stairs and squinted against the harsh fluorescents trailing you from the ceiling. You'd neglected to grab your shades, cell, or any other necessary article of your behalf. You knew he wouldn't call anyway as he'd already guessed your destination set for Rose's house the moment you sped from the apartment.

However, it occurred to you that you should warn her about your visit well past midnight. She'd be furious, you thought as the rhythmic pounding of your converse slapping against the pavement beat in your ears along with your thumping heart. You should probably stop running, look for traffic, and catch your breath. You should probably turn your cowardly ass right around and march back to that complex.

You should probably do a lot of things yet parking your ass on Rose's couch was blurring all those other seeming insignificant details.