fiesta permanente

[stassi siminski]

The atmosphere following their little game of seven minutes in heaven had been so loaded that everyone shared the same idea about getting out of the hotel again for a bit. Pouring out into the Las Vegas nighttime, Stassi could feel herself easing into her favorite part of a molly binge, the high highs dying down to a soft, blurred bliss, still euphoric enough to have nothing but love for everyone and everything but not as manic or disconnected. Her mind was swimming with everything that had happened already tonight but she didn't have the presence of mind to properly process it, and as a result she hadn't slipped into any neurosis. Instead she stayed glued to Pat's side from the moment they'd left that room, looking past Luiz and Maya's knowing glances to suggest that they all go to the club. As soon as they're in, she knows it was the right choice. The music vibrates through the floor and into her body, into her being, deepening her comfort with the universe and her friends. Without even bothering to try and make it to the bar, she grabs Pat's hand and pulls him into the throng, disappearing between sweaty club goers before anyone can so much as notice that she was gone. "That's better," she says once she's satisfied that they've shaken the others off, grinning at him. Without thinking about it she slips her arms around his neck, her body swaying to the music as she closed her eyes and let it wash over her. "God, I love this song, don't you?"

[pat bohannon]

Pat can no longer determine if the energy is heated with anger or excitement or something more, wishing he was high enough to visualize it but content enough to let it be. As long as he had Stassi somewhere near, existing dangerously in his orbit, everything else paled in comparison, hand gripping hers as fresh air washed over heightened skin. It's a breath for a second, enough to cool them off before being engulfed in lights and bodies and heat. Ready for another night, whatever it may bring, not thinking twice when a pale, familiar hand pulled him deeper into the crowd. "Anyone ever told you you're kinda demanding," he teases, dipping low to her ear as the music beats through them. His arms loop back around her waist in response, still familiar from earlier, content in the lax feelings that had finally settled in. As if their moment together had burned through the bright obsession, leaving them mellow and content, in tune with one another on another level. It's what pushes him further, nodding along in agreement before his mind catches on an enticing idea. Gently, he leans down again, her touch electric on the nape of his neck. "Truth or dare, Brooklyn Baby?"

[stassi siminski]

Up to this point, Stassi had been preoccupied with ensuring her sister was having the best time she could, checking in on her near constantly to ensure she was feeling included and not overwhelmed. It had been entirely unnecessary, her chill attitude making it easy for her to go with the flow and fold into the group. So this is the first time she's truly letting go, immersed in her favorite things in the world; uppers, the dance floor, and Patrick Bohannon. "Oh, it's been said once or twice." It had been easier to drape herself across him when he'd been lying down, but he cranes his neck to be able to murmur in her ear and his breath his warm against her cheek, sending goosebumps across her skin. Never had five seemingly innocuous words had such an impact. Her insides turn to liquid, her breath catching in her throat. It was a moniker that she had chosen for herself but rarely heard out loud, and never in his voice, slightly hoarse but still deep and as familiar as his cologne. She looks up at him with a glint of challenge in her eye, mulling over what she was going to opt for. That same day she had sworn that she was a strictly dare only kind of girl, but all the dares she could think of ran the risk of them having to break this embrace, and that simply was not a risk she was ready to take. Standing on her tiptoes to make sure he hears her, she holds his eye contact as she makes her choice: "truth, Bodega Boy."

[pat bohannon]

The only thing predictable about Vegas was its unpredictability, something proven again and again the more time Pat spent here. Late nights, excess and indulgences, existing on a precipice that could topple one way or another at any given time, giving way to low lows or high highs. He's on the latter end of the spectrum now, vivid contentment filling his chest and heart, carefree and careless with who had become one of his favorite people in the world. Another true unpredictability, sometimes a storm cloud, other times muted and solemn and impossible to get through to. But here, now, it's one of his favorite ways to see her - uninhibited, serene, and mere inches away. It's an irresistible sight; his eyes look away briefly to see others watching her and the short hem of her glittering dress, shifting his grip to drag her closer in response as one song bleeds into the next. Eyebrows drifting up in surprise when truth floats from the gloss of her lips. An abrupt change from her previous statement, throwing him once again. Never able to predict her, a forever curiosity that propels him to ask: "my question before, in the game - what was your answer going to be?"

[stassi siminski]

Stassi shakes her hair back as she allows herself to be pulled in closer, her fingers finding the nape of his hair again, missing the closeness. Her hips press against him, continuing to sway with the music. At some point between the hotel and the club she had remembered to chew gum, knowing from previous experience that if she didn't she'd end up chewing the inside of her cheeks to shreds. Ever a slave to a theme, she'd opted for cherry bubblegum, to go with the cherry cola she'd been drinking and the Tom Ford Lost Cherry she was wearing. It was a little much. Still, she focused on the chewing as she mulled over her answer, trying to pretend that the question hadn't stolen all the air out of her lungs. So much for a lucky escape. Finally, she tilts her head as she drags her eyes back to him, his handsome face cast in deep red light. "That depends. If I ask you to show me and it's just a peck, I'll be disappointed. But if it's not, then I'll be stuck being jealous of my sister all evening." Her heart is skipping beats and it's not something she's used to, usually at her most confident when she was flirting with attractive men. But this was no ordinary attractive man. "So, you see my dilemma."

[pat bohannon]

For a rare moment, Pat felt he had a upper hand. Always scrambling after Stassi's next move, her occasional whim, following her blindly to Las Vegas with just a friend and a vague semblance of what they'd get into, he had no idea it would come to this. Them, here, pressing closer and closer together, words warm and curious, perfume heady and sweet. It's so signature to her he could pick it out anywhere, even in the middle of the crowd. Cherry, always cherry - he half expects her gum to carry the flavor, too. The thought ignites a dangerous idea, smirking at the possibilities she held in her palm. Too much, not enough - again with the balance, slowly drifting away from any unspoken boundaries that had settled in New York. Here, now, they were new and dangerous, existing in some alternate world lacking inhibitions and bathed in neon lights. "There's another option you can choose, you know," Pat reminds, sliding one of his palm to the slope of her jaw. He stares at her for a few seconds again, never tired of the sight, before tilting her head down to press a kiss to the top of her hair. "Could've been just that - now pick, you wanted truth."

[stassi siminski]

It wasn't that she hadn't noticed that Pat was attractive. Every video she included him in was flooded with comments pointing out that very obvious fact, so much so that she ended up posting him as engagement bait every now and again. But it was so obvious that it was somehow easy to ignore, up until now. Now it was painful and powerful and like looking directly at the sun, her body aching for him all the more even as they enjoyed a level of contact they had never come close to before. Her breathing is ragged and this is not on brand. Channelling the Stassi Siminski she portrayed to the world, she keeps trying to bury her total panic at the current situation, forcing a grin to her lips. "I knew I should have picked dare." She leans into his hand, closing her eyes for a few seconds. "OK, I would have told you to show me. But," she holds a finger to his lips, her grin turning coy. "It's my turn. Truth or dare?"

[pat bohannon]

She has freckles. It's a strange, sobering thought in the midst of the chaos, gaze tracing the way they dust out over her nose. Something so soft under the siren sweep of glitter on her eyes, the enticing pout of her lips - Pat feels his heart quicken at the discovery, both at a sudden rush of affection and the quick realization this was maybe as close as he'd ever been to her. Knowing that maybe, possibly, this wasn't close enough. His thumb sweeps over them idly, glory climbing down his throat at her confirmation. She wanted him to kiss her. Pat leans in to offer the indulgence, touch curving a little more purposefully until the soft pad of her finger meets his lips instead. Startled, his eyes flit back to her menacing grin before rolling in mock frustration, nipping lightly at the blockade. "Dare," he breathes through her touch, unafraid of whatever she'd throw at him. Something told him at this point, it would be to both of their benefit.

[stassi siminski]

There was a quiet control behind Pat's laid back manner that had always made Stassi unsure of where she stood with him. Looking at him now, his eyes hooded with the same intensity she recognized from their seven minute tryst (if you could even call it that), she could sense that she was seeing a more unbridled version of him than she'd ever been privy to before. She had assumed there was no attraction on his side, that she was too brash, too moody, too mercurial. Or maybe that she just wasn't his type. But there's something about the way he's being now that confirms her assessment of him-- whatever was going on behind those eyes, he wouldn't let on to it unless he wanted to. His casual touch against her face feels more intimate than any number of nights spent with other men. A giggle escapes her glossed lips as he nips at her finger, a foreign sound coming from her. Girlish. "Ooh, you're brave," she teases, biting down on her thumb as she decided how best to lay down the gauntlet. "I dare you to do whatever you want. Not just now, but for the next twenty-four hours of this trip-- and don't tell me you're already doing that, I know you're still holding something back. I have a sixth sense for these things, remember."

[pat bohannon]

I dare you to do whatever you want. It's as tempting of an offer as he'll ever receive, in the right place at the right time with the right people. Anything available at his fingertips...but the one thing he suddenly wants held tight in his grasp. He'd always felt a little out of his depth with Stassi, trying to tune in to her moods and what set her off, why she'd disappear, when she'd come back...always hazy at the edges and barely out of reach. Never giving too much away, ever flirting below the surface, never pushing too hard. But now, right now, her eyes betrayed her, suddenly so easy to read. And he'd be damned if he didn't seize what he'd been given. Smile bold and warning, shaking his head before his grip slopes to the curve of her neck, hair soft in his grasp. "Witch," he breathes before his lips find hers, lights all but scattering in the wake of their collision. He's surprised at the hammering of his heart, the blanked quiet of his brain, blaming the drugs for the quiet symphony as he tugged closer, demanded more, tasted the honeyed hum and cherry of her lip gloss, felt the hitch of her breath. His tongue seeks further, open mouths parting before he pulls away in an instant. Just as he thought, cherry flavor coats his teeth as he chewed the gum he'd stolen. Blowing a bubble just to watch it burst, chemistry still soaring between them as his words ghosted over her lips. "Challenge accepted. Truth or dare?"

[stassi siminski]

Pat was just such a man. Accustomed to the kind of men who spend more time fixing their hair in the mirror than she did, there was an amiable frat boy charm to Pat, a confident nonchalance when it came to women and dating that was confusing to her in New York and was driving her wild now that it was rounded on her in Vegas. A grin spreads across his face that makes her feel like prey, a novel feeling that makes that same ache from before return tenfold. He takes hold of her and their lips meet, a kiss that confirms all her existing suspicions but raises more still to be answered. Confirmed: he was an incredible kisser. Confirmed: he wanted her at least partially as badly as she wanted him. Confirmed: she would not be sharing a room with her sister this evening.  Their tongues meet and she presses herself against him all the more forcefully, as if with sheer will she'd be able to have more of him than physics allowed. Across the room Maya is trying to prise Luiz from Liv, and she's right to rush - before Stassi can even register what just happened Pat pulls away, leaving her breathless and desperate for more. She bites her own bottom lip, though as it registers that he's chewing her gum her jaw drops. It's a better reaction than the whimper she managed to stifle just in time. "You are full of surprises. Here I was thinking you were just a nice boy from Philly." Her need is manifesting as a dull ache, a physical need for him to kiss her again, something she had no idea she could ever want so badly. He continues the game she forgot they were playing and it makes her want to stomp her feet and insist they stop and go home instead. It's an embarrassing thing, to be so hungry for someone, so she resolves to contain herself by whatever means necessary. "Dare."

[pat bohannon]

"Fun to try to keep you on your toes for once." She's stretched up to meet him almost in confirmation, tipping closer as he draws their lips together again. Any further and they'd tumble back into the crowd, lose the insatiable moment...and it was the last thing he could want, steadying her to his chest as his eyes flicked to their friends momentarily. "I dare you to text your sister, tell her you're not coming back tonight." Pat says quickly, winding his arm back around her hip as he led them through the crowd. "And then I think we're done with this game." It's a blur from there. Of bright lights, of cool air, of the way she's easy to toss over his shoulder after complaints of her shoes. Somewhere in there they find the sense of familiarity they had with one another, an airy kiss shared on the way back to the penthouse, a laugh as hands swung back and forth in an abandoned elevator. Like this was normal, like it wasn't one night, Pat drawing her in and kissing her deeply the moment the door shut behind them. As if they'd lose it any second, hands hovering at the hook of her dress. "Can't say I haven't been thinking of this since you put this on," he admits against her lips, guiding them toward his room. "Though, for the love of god tell me it's easier to get off than that latex one."

[stassi siminski]

She doesn't need to be told twice. Using one hand to steady herself against him, Stassi uses her other to retrieve her phone, typing out a quick message to Maya. The light from the screen shifts as she tries to focus on the letters, a reminder that she was still under the influence, though it's her desire that feels all consuming now. heading back. can you try to keep everyone away as long as poss? love you, will spill tomorrow xo "Thank god, no more games." Relief mingles with anticipation as they finally fight their way back out through the crowd, the cool evening air giving her a chance to regain her breath. The journey back is a blur of laughter, stolen kisses and the easy chatter they were used to. Swept off her feet into a fireman's lift, she can't help the giggles that keep spilling out of her. Before they know it they're back in the hotel room, her back up against the door as he kisses her more forcefully, her legs weak underneath her. She dumps her bag by the door, unzipping her dress as she follows him into his room. "Oh it's easier," she says, relieved she hadn't opted for that. As good as it might look on, she'd be caked in talc underneath, whereas now she can easily slip this dress off to reveal the black lace set underneath. "Though speaking of latex..." She offers him a smirk, finally taking some initiative of her own and pushing him back to the bed. Sinking into his lap, she pulls his shirt off hungrily, leaning in to whisper in his ear. "Be rough as you like, Bodega Boy."

[pat bohannon]

If there existed some perfect cocktail of an evening, Pat think this might be it. The heavy air between them, the push and pull of their familiar camaraderie and intoxicating closeness, the mellowed mix of alcohol and MDMA. He felt unstoppable, insatiable, and wanted nothing further than for Stassi to feel it too. Seeing lust flash in her eyes, the moonlit curves so stark against black lace...he reached when she pulled, he followed when she led. But, above anything, he took his time. Coaxed by the whisper of her dare and the underwritten care he had for her he soaked kisses into beaming skin, trailed touches across elbows and hips and knees. Weightless under a gauzy haze it felt like a symphony of skin, of gasps, of fingernails on shoulders and bruised lips and sweet pitches. Unaware of minutes passing, of what led where, committing as much to memory as he could when his mouth hovered quietly over hers. Passing lazy, open kisses until someone would break into a smile. It isn't until a slice of sun streaks through the window that Pat realizes he had his eyes closed, waking to a new day and Stassi still beside him. Feeling the comedown ebbing at the edges of his mind he leans down to kiss her bare shoulder, catches the perfume still lingering in her hair. "Hi."

[stassi siminski]

Their night had been one of pleasant contradictions. Rough hands with tender intentions, carnal indulgence with raw emotional connection. Anastasia had never been with someone she trusted so implicitly, not even her ex, which would be depressing if she weren't too blissfully occupied to give it any thought. Their obvious lust for each other was punctuated by moments of deep affection, of easy laughter, of gleeful disbelief. When sleep comes it's deep and uninterrupted, with Stassi only stirring when the sunlight starts to stream through the window. What bliss she had been feeling was a sadly distant memory. Head pounding, mouth dry, she groans as she stirs. After a few disorientated seconds, she's brought back to reality by a soft kiss to the shoulder. The moment of truth. With the drugs fading from their systems and the day stretching infinitely ahead of them, how were they going to play this? Stassi feels nervous, though it quickly dissipates when she looks at him. Still her Bodega Boy. "Hey you." She yawns, inching across the bed to rest her head on his bare chest as she fished around for her phone. What she sees illicits another groan. "Look at this, 6 texts and 2 missed calls from Maya. She's so nosy. Smile," she holds up her inward facing camera, ignoring the smudged mascara around her eyes as she snaps a picture of them together. "She's gonna lose her shit."