liability

ROWAN BETTENCOURT. PRE-LAW AT CORNELL.

“I think I’ve come to terms with the fact that there will always be a ribbon of loneliness running through who I am.” — Jenny Slate

a bright grin spreads across rowan's face when savannah enters his sights, spotting the girl from across the room and deciding then and there that he was going to approach her. he hadn't been looking for her, hadn't actually talked to her yet today, but it was easy enough of a decision, knowing that she's always so enthused to see him, that he decides he'd like nothing else but to bask in her attention for the rest of the night. he's quick to order an extra drink, smirking as he makes his way over to her, a drink in each hand. "hey! fancy meeting you here," he greets warmly, gesturing towards her with one of the drinks in his hand. "i bought you a drink."

Being a guest lecturer wasn’t something she’d ever wanted to jot down on her résumé. It was unplanned, yet she’d found an interest in doing so, all thanks to eager students who weren’t afraid to ask questions. “Rowan, right? I think you’ve taken a few of my guest lectures before,” she greeted, recognizing the male, or at least thinking she did. With a beer in hand and a light buzz, she smiled. “I always said I wouldn’t go into teaching. Too much professionalism required outside of the classroom.” Granted, her career demanded the same, but her clientele was much smaller. “I’d ask if you’ve had anymore thought on what you want to do, but I won’t be that person. Not tonight, at least. Are you enjoying the music?”

CLOSED STARTER: spring concert @rowanbc​

***

rowan's already a few drinks in by the time that andrea approaches him, his cheeks flushed as he gives her a bright grin, his brows raising in recognition. "dr. rossi, hey!" he greets enthusiastically, raising the drink in his hand towards her with a nod of his head. "yeah! i loved your lectures. you might not want to go into teaching, but you're great at it. you should definitely consider doing some more of it," he compliments, a little overeager but entirely earnest. "good thing, because i haven't made any progress on that front. yet, at least," he admits with a wry smile and a shrug, before taking a sip of his drink. "yeah, i love it! one of my friends is actually the headliner, so i already knew the set would be dope. how are you liking it?"

His laugh fell between them, had anyone else heard the two of them they would have thought the sound was mocking: but Otto didn’t know how else to show affection other than to tease, to draw out pleasure and to grasp it in his teeth. Through his lashes he could see the effect that he had upon the other man, had he of listened closer still he was sure he could have heard the sharp click of a jaw closing tight. “Should I make it feel like love?” The words were cruel, perhaps— but it carved at the hearts of the two of them, both craved it so much that it became unattainable, something foreign and mysterious. “I probably should,” Otto noted absently, his hips and breath canting upwards at Rowan’s ministrations, “It looked like you almost got bored of me tonight, went home with someone else.“

***

otto's words sink sharp and piercing into his resolve, like a blade against flesh, and while it stings, it simultaneously feeds the ache within his chest, the longing for more, for someone to love him. and otto was always so good at making it feel like love, despite the fact that he knows it isn't. he thinks he hears a huff and a mutter near them, but he pays it no mind as the entirety of his attention is stolen by the beautiful boy by his side. "could never get bored of you," he simpers in response, his words spoken against otto's own, lips hovering so that they brush just slightly, the ghost of a touch. "maybe you should show me what i would've been missing then, hm?" he pairs his words with a teasing nip to otto's lower lip, brushing their noses together in a sweet display of affection, hoping to spur him into action.

SPRING CONCERT May 21st w/ @rowanbc​

Damien leaned against one of the half built walls, looking ahead towards the stage as he held one of the red-solo cups in his hand. He brushed his tongue along his lower lip, watching the set up. Breathing in, his eyes glanced to the side to check his surroundings. He felt someone come to the other side of him, his head turning to look over at Rowan, chuckling as he shook his head. “You ever announce yourself before you approach someone?” He muttered, bringing his cup up to his lips, taking a sip of it as he let his eyes glance back towards the stage. 

***

a pleasant buzz is already coursing through rowan's veins by the time he spots damien, a flush spread across his cheeks and a grin across his lips as he makes his way closer to his longtime friend, immediately sidling up next to him. his words only cause his grin to widen, leaning closer and nudging his elbow against him in jest, before giving a shrug. "i do, but it's so much more fun to see your reaction when you're caught off guard," he responds cheekily, before he's nodding towards the stage. "how are you feeling about all this?" he treads carefully, not wanting to bring up anything that might bring damien's mood down.

Slow nights like these were her least favourite, between the lack of tips and lack of entertainment she was practically dozing off, her frame held up by the bar. Through blurry vision she caught sight of the stumbling figure walking her way, dark curls and sharp jawline the first thing to come into focus. She pushed herself back up and braced for his fall but it never came, a smile curving on her lips as he managed to position himself on the stool without falling. “Bravo,” she made a show of clapping at him, a smile curving on her lips. “My shift suddenly got a lot better, what are you doing here on a dead night? Are you lost or did Dom get tired of babysitting you and dump you off here?”

***

willa's response to his presence has a warmth spreading throughout his chest that definitely shouldn't be there, a spark that lights up his entire frame, and has him feeling giddy as he gives an exaggerated bow, one that nearly has him falling out of his chair. he grips onto the bar and rights himself quickly, letting out a giggle before giving her a proud smile, leaning his elbows on the bar as he leans in closer. "hey, he doesn't babysit me! i can take care of myself. and besides, can't i just be here to see my favorite bartender?" he responds with a pout, before giving her a wink. "don't tell peach. she won't give me free shots anymore if she hears that you're my real favorite," he tells her in a theatrical whisper.

it had always been impossible to explain the bond that continually attracted them to each other, constantly pushing them to overcome those barriers that usually friends considered insurmountable: sometimes it was the lips that rested on the skin of the other, neck or shoulder blade, when one leaned their head on the shoulder for convenience, other times it was the legs instead to intertwine in a tangle that made it impossible to recognize which belonged to whom and rue enjoyed sliding her foot on his thigh further than necessary; other times it was the hands that wandered on the bodies, pushing dangerously close to the goal without ever really reaching it. the ambiguity was perceptible from the outside, and in fact, when rowan leaned in with a flirtatious air rue welcomed him by shifting so that her face would be completely turned towards his, gaze unstoppable from swinging between eyes and lips,   “ only if there are special lessons involved, ”   she copied the rise of his brows, pulling away but maintaining eye contact as she sucked on the straw in her drink in a way that she had learned to be hyper-effective on anyone she had tried it on: there weren’t expectations when it came to rowan, simply the fun of the chase never one-sided but always switching back and forth stuck in an endless loop. to no surprise, rowan replied to her teasing by confirming the fact that he was a bad boy, and even if she expected it, rue couldn’t save him the playful death stare that followed. it was then his hand that attracted her attention as if calling her to be touched, call to which rue bent going to place her fingers right next to where his laid, the fraction of space separating them filled by electricity. it was in fact strange that the two weren’t already touching in some way.   “ mmmh sure — why does that sound exactly like something someone who got beat up badly would say? ”

***

his lips form into an 'O' at the implication of special lessons, maintaining eye contact with her that ends with his eyes roaming down her features until they land on her lips, subconsciously licking at his own lips in response as his thoughts are suddenly flooded with images, memories of her lips and the various places he's seen them. lips brushing his own, pressed hot against skin, wrapped around his fingers, and other things. just the thought has a hum rising from deep within his chest, his head tilting as his body instinctively shifts closer to her, rowan simply a moth drawn to her irresistible flame. "special lessons? and what ever could you mean by that, rue darling?" he muses, pasting a faux innocent smile on his lips even as he closes the distance between their fingers, tension palpable between them as their skin brushes, just barely. her death stare only causes his smile to widen into a grin, shaking his head at her words before he's giving her an exaggerated pout. "hey! i totally won, where is your faith in me?" he ducks his head in a dramatic fashion, expression showing faux devastation at the revelation of her lack of faith in him, heaving a put-upon sigh as he regards her with a weary look. "my heart is broken. and you haven't even kissed my wound. how am i supposed to feel? is this your way of breaking up with me?" he gasps, letting out a theatrical groan, as if someone had hit him. "my emotional wounds hurt way worse than the physical ones, you know. my confidence? shattered."

“Have I taught you nothing?” He asked, but it came out more like a small invitation for Rowan to give him own inquiry. Slamming the breaks of the car, a loud clink echoed out from the trunk. Glass chimed against glass, and its violence was enough to prove that more than one bottle would hopefully make it to safety alongside them. 

The grin buried itself in his cheek, an infamous bite against a sly curl of his lips out of habit.

“I think you may talk too much for your own good,” Bediah said. “But not for mine. You distracted enough people for them for me to take whatever bottle they were trying to stash because they were too busy trying to pay attention to you.”

rowan's mouth falls open to give some sort of response, but he's quickly being shoved forward by the brakes, the seatbelt digging into his shoulder as he moves a hand to brace himself against the dashboard in front of him. "fuck," he curses, even as relief fills him from the sound of the glass clicking in the trunk, shaking his head as he reaches over to nudge bo playfully in retaliation.

The sirens behind them chirped as they gave one last warning, and then the sound of the passenger door echoed shut with that of the squad cars not far behind. The trouble began to fill out a roster in his head and every possible wrong doing was ticked off— trespassing, noise disturbance, evading an officer. Anxiety wrapped his knuckles tightly around the steering wheel where white was stark over bone, but Bediah trapped it there. Tension rolled off of him everywhere else except for a small clench of his jaw, though that could have easily wound itself tight because of how slow Rowan moved. 

“Good. You might need it so she can bail you out if you keep taking your sweet time,” He said, consideration thrown to the back seat as the car lurched forward with his foot on the pedal. There was a protest from the car against the mud beneath them, but it pulled itself on to the dirt path. “I knew the moment they started those fireworks, someone was gonna call the cops. You take that bottle?”

the adrenaline is hitting him full force now as he settles down in the passenger seat, the chirp of the police siren sobering him up just the tiniest bit. he scrunches his nose as he scrubs a hand across his face, letting out a long exhale before he's distracted from his thoughts by bediah's words. "too late for that now," he counters with a cheeky grin, trying not to let his nerves show. he can't help but look back into the darkness once the car begins to move, making sure that they're not being too closely followed, hoping above all else that the cops end up being too distracted by the other partygoers to follow them.

.

His jealousy was viper-like, settling down in his belly when Rowan’s attention turned sunnily back onto him. Solidified by the warmth of the other man’s body, he resisted the urge to draw his fingers up and under the fabric that separated them: it wasn’t the place to map out the familiar planes of his ribs and chest, to leave marks to claim them as his own. I’ve been here, the scrape of his teeth would say, this belongs to me. Otto’s breath let out a laugh before it did words, and he curved closer into Rowan. “What kind of company do you want? Something sweet?” He pressed a chaste kiss to the sharp angle of the other’s jaw, as his hand travelled south, traversing the length of his chest before stopping just below his belt buckle, “Maybe less so?”

the touch of otto's lips against his jaw has rowan pressing in closer to him, his body a flower growing towards the other's warm sunshine affection, aching to bloom. he lets out a soft hum as a slow grin begins to spread wide across his lips, before his tongue is darting out to wet them as otto's hands travel lower, his bottom lip tucking between his teeth as he tries not to respond too eagerly. "what if i want both?" he asks lowly, dipping his head even closer so that he can still hear them, the tip of his nose brushing against otto's cheek. "sweet, and hot. you're so good at both," he continues, one of his hands coming up to rest on the other's forearm, tracing a teasing fingertip along his skin until he reaches his wrist, keeping his hand hovering below his navel.

fanmix yourself! a rowan bettencourt playlist.

a current favorite song — sugar, brockhampton

a song that would play in the movie trailer of your life — pretty boy, lennon stella

a song with a story behind it — psychofreak, camila cabello ft. willow

a song you’d make out to — escort, chase atlantic

a song that reminds you of your favorite season — we fell in love in october, girl in red

a song from a favorite band/artist — alone in a room full of people, blackbear

a song that cheers you up — say it just say it, the mowgli’s

a song that reminds you of home — life in the city, the lumineers

a song that makes you think about the future — here comes the anxiety, the wombats

a song you prefer to listen at night — if i could i would feel nothing, blackbear

a song you play when you’re sad — liability, lorde

a song with lyrics you’d like to tattoo on yourself — the fear, ben howard

a song you know all the lyrics to — angels & demons, jxdn

your favorite cover of a song — no ordinary love, you+me

a song that describes your default mood — limbo, keshi