#request:open

She knew that if her partner was really pissed at her, he wouldn’t have let her get away with throwing another couch cushion at his face. The lucky bastard caught it right before it could make contact with him and tossed it atop of a sweatshirt that Cassidy had balled up to use as a weapon against him.

The small apartment the two shared looked like it had gotten swept by a hurricane, all because Cassidy had decided to swipe Butch’s cigarettes out of his closet when he was in the shower. A dirty move.

Well, Butch wasn’t going to let her get away with it. Those were his good cigs too.

Plus, Cassidy didn’t even smoke! The first and last time Butch had ever let her bum one of his cigarettes, she coughed so much that Butch was afraid he would need to take her to the ER.

“Aww, is the poor baby mad because Cass has his cancer sticks?” the blonde teased, waving the box of cigarettes in the air mockingly.

Butch huffed, “Cassidy, the only thing separating us is this couch, and if I have to push it to get to you, you ain’t gonna like what happens next.” He pointed his finger at her threateningly.

Actually, Butch had no idea what he was going to do, and he also really didn’t want to have to push the couch out of the way (it was really fucking heavy), but he was hoping that the woman would just give in.

Unfortunately for Butch, Cassidy did the exact opposite of what he wanted her to.

“Oh please, Biff,” she scoffed, “That whole, ooo, I’m a big-scary-man act doesn’t work on me.”

“My name is Butch, dumbass!”

“Careful, now, hon, really wouldn’t want to insult the girl who could just toss this wittle box off the balcony.”

Butch gasped, “You wouldn’t dare.” That was too far, even for someone like Cassidy.

His partner stuck out her tongue, leaning forward, “Try me.”

Then, Butch did the only logical—and legal—thing he could think of. He turned his gaze from Cassidy and to the window behind her, “Hey, isn’t that Team Rocket’s Delibird?”

Cassidy snapped back up, spinning around quickly. “Where? Because I put in a request for a Houndour weeks ago.”

Butch used her distraction to jump over the couch. Only, he hadn’t been watching where he placed his feet and ended up sending both him and Cassidy to the floor.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Butch!?” Cassidy cried out, “You could’ve killed me!”

“But I didn’t,” Butch shot back, trying to reach for the cigarette box that Cassidy was holding over her head. “Give em’ back!”

Cassidy wasn’t relenting, she shoved her free hand into Butch’s face while trying to use her knees to push him off. “You’ll have to try harder than that!”

“Challenge accepted,” he grunted and then opened his mouth to lick the hand that Cassidy was trying to suffocate him with.

The blonde let out a disgusted scream that Butch was sure almost shattered all the windows in their apartment.

She pulled her hand away from him, wiping it on her shirt, and Butch used that to his advantage. He moved his hand over the one that Cassidy was clenching his cigarettes and the other to pin her other wrist to the ground, preventing her from aiming for his face again.

“Guess I win,” Butch panted, with a smirk pulling at his lips as he saw how frustrated Cassidy looked underneath him.

Wait. 

Butch’s throat went dry as the reality of their current predicament set it.

He had Cassidy underneath him, their bodies were pressed against each other’s, and why were their faces so close together? Of course, they had play-fought before, and neither one of them were strangers to touching the other, but Butch was sure they’d never been in this position before.

“Butch?”

“Y-yeah, Cass?”

“Not to kill the mood or anything,” she began, “But you’re kind of squishing my boobs here, and it’s starting to hurt.”

Butch jumped off her like she was a stove set on high. “Shit, Cass, I didn’t mean to – fuck, you okay? Need me to get you anything?” he asked frantically.

Cassidy laughed at how red his face was getting. “I’m fine, you idiot. Just be more careful next time.”

Next. . . time? Was Cassidy implying that . . . no, no, no. He was not letting his mind wander off like that. Butch sprang up on his feet, heading in the direction of the bathroom.

“Where are you going?” Cassidy asked.

“I need a shower,” Butch answered. A cold one.

Now Cassidy was lost, “But you already took one! And what about your cigarettes?”

“You can keep em’!” He shut the bathroom door behind him, leaving a confused Cassidy sitting on their living room floor.