Work Text:
Shane was standing in his usual spot in the Saloon, because, of course, he was. Frankly, he stood there so often, he suspected people might have started to confuse the bar for his second home. In fact, he’d been there so much that there were two faint but undeniably visible ovals of missing varnish where his shoes had eroded away bits of the floorboard.
If he hadn’t known any better, he would have accused Robin of poor carpentry, but there was no fooling himself or anyone else.
Then again, Shane stood there, slowly shuffling his feet, drinking away his days, his life, his money, and most recently, his dignity.
It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried to find something else to do. He’d done quite well with the chicken coop, and even though he’d been late a couple of times, and Yoba knew he should have made a better effort, Morris still hadn’t fired him from his job at JojaMart. Yet, try as he might, Shane couldn’t stop his feet from leading him to the Saloon once the clock struck five. Some days, he’d already been standing in his designated spot for a good couple of hours by then.
It was hopeless.
Shane was hopeless.
But Shane was also holding a cold beer, so Shane couldn’t care less. He took a sip, licked the foam off his upper lip, and relished the feeling as the drink traveled down his esophagus. In no time at all, he would be just tipsy enough that his mind would stop yelling, but not drunk enough that his mouth would start.
He hoped.
It didn’t matter, truly. As long as his mind was quiet, he didn’t care much for the rest. What was a bit of public embarrassment if it meant he had peace of mind? Sure, his drinking had increased significantly the last few weeks, but it’s not like he had a problem…
As he pondered this, the Stardrop Saloon door flew open, revealing the end of his peacefulness after all.
In walked the Yoba damned trio. The Pelican Town nuisance, the triple threat, the bane of his existence.
Abigail, Sam, and Sebastian fell through the doorway, laughing about something undoubtedly dumb and unfunny.
Shane couldn’t help but roll his eyes. It happened almost like a reflex. Their shrill laughter was like nails on a chalkboard, and it instantly soured his mood. He had a sudden urge to up and leave, but due to the lack of other bars in town, he stood his ground and instead hid his face in his mug of beer.
The three musky peers—Oh Yoba, he needed to stop with these names—went up to Emily and ordered their usual, before heading to the back room of the Saloon.
Unfortunately for Shane, this meant that he had an excellent view of their activities. The angle of the room in relation to his spot made it impossible to ignore what was going on around the pool table. It was almost as if they chose to hang out there to show off and annoy him on purpose. The audacity was despicable. Could they not leave him be? Could they not see that he was trying to have a beer in peace?
Shane eyed them with contempt. Abigail was all but draping herself off Sam’s shoulder like some unflattering curtain. Frankly, it was unbecoming, and she should know better. She looked like she was fawning over him like some little schoolgirl. Couldn’t she see that he wasn’t interested?
Or maybe he was. Shane caught the barest hint of a hand against the small of her back. Was he caressing her? He couldn’t be sure, but he supposed he couldn’t put it past any of them to be feeling each other up in public.
Shane felt bile rise in the pit of his stomach and took another sip from his mug to drown the feeling, only to find it empty. He turned to the bar and set the mug atop it, and gestured to Emily for another. To his surprise, she already had a freshly topped glass for him. He nodded in short appreciation before he resumed his familiar stance.
While he drank, he saw the three vexing blobs out of the corner of his eye. It was as if nothing he did could shut them out. They were impossible to ignore.
Abigail laughed too loudly at something Sam or Sebastian had said, and Shane huffed. Her laughter grinded against his eardrums, and it pissed him off because he knew the joke couldn’t even have been that funny.
“What’s the matter?” A voice interrupted his train of thought.
Shane looked up from his beer to see Haley sitting on one of the stools by the bar in front of him. When had she arrived? He’d been entirely distracted by the ruckus in the next room…
“Nothing,” he said, and made a hearty attempt at finishing his second beer in one swig. He almost made it too; there was just about a mouthful left when he straightened the glass.
“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” Haley mused with an expression that told him she didn’t actually care.
“Why do you bother?” He asked. “I’m not really in the mood to talk.”
“It just seemed like something one asks a man who huffs and puffs like his livelihood has been lost or something.” She sipped her drink.
Shane didn’t answer. He was distracted by the trio again. Sam was leaning over the pool table, which made it impossible not to notice the way his jeans hugged his behind. Was he teasing Shane on purpose or something? It had been several weeks since the door to the walk-in fridge had closed on them, and they had been stuck the whole night.
What happens in the fridge, stays in the fridge.
Oh, how Shane had underestimated the weight of those words. Sam had practically pretended Shane didn’t exist after that, and Shane gave him the same treatment.
Yet, here Sam was, parading his ass around like he didn’t know what it did to Shane.
He felt heat creep up his face, and he knew he was turning red.
“Emily,” he said, setting the empty glass on the counter. “Please.”
Emily replaced the empty one with a full, before returning to her cleaning. She had caught up on his disinterest in small talk early. Shane appreciated that. These days, he didn’t even have to tell her what brand he wanted. She just had his preferred ready to go. It was a good arrangement.
“Damn, I need to catch up,” Haley eyed him over her cocktail.
“No need. That would indicate that we’re drinking together, which we are not.”
Haley rolled her eyes, but the uptick of the corner of her mouth indicated that she wasn’t going to leave him alone.
“No, that would be bad, wouldn’t it,” she smiled, but Shane couldn’t quite read her tone. “What are we celebrating today?”
He had no intentions of answering, but Sam had started rolling his hips to the beat of the music playing from the jukebox, and Shane could use the distraction. “That it’s your lucky day.”
“My lucky day?” Haley cocked an eyebrow, but raised her glass in a lazy toast.
“Yes, we’re celebrating your lucky day!” Shane replied, lifting his own glass. “You get, to everyone’s amazement, the—almost impossible to imagine—joy of having my attention. It is not something I give out lightly, and therefore it must be your lucky day, and we must celebrate.”
Haley, to her credit, laughed at the dry attempt at humor. It struck him then that she was quite beautiful. Her long, blonde hair was bouncing around her shoulders in soft curls that looked like waves, and her blue eyes shimmered like the ocean on a sunny day. Her laughter rolled off her tongue like a gentle breeze. The entire girl was just a walking metaphor for the Yoba damned beach. It almost helped him ignore the way Abigail was pushing up against Sam, and how he wasn’t pushing her away.
“To my lucky day, then!” Haley smiled, and they both finished their drinks. Emily promptly served them new ones, and Shane finally started feeling the familiar buzz that was signaling the beginning of the silencing of his mind. He welcomed the feeling with open arms. In fact, he must have already reached a certain level of tipsy, because he heard himself engage Haley in further conversation. He was actually initiating by asking her a question.
“How’s your photography going?” His mouth spoke, while his mind struggled to catch up.
“Oh, you know…” She waved a hand. “It’s not like people are running me down with requests or anything, but it’s enough to cover my share of the rent.”
At this, Emily huffed from behind the bar.
“Okay, okay. It covers some of my share,” Haley admitted, hiding behind her drink.
Emily just laughed, not unkindly. “It doesn’t even cover your tab.”
Haley’s cheeks transformed into an intense rosy pink.
“You know you don’t have to worry about it,” Emily winked, then, she turned to Shane and added nonchalantly, “our parents cover pretty much everything. I just work for Gus to build a savings account.”
“That’s very nice of them,” Shane said.
Haley blushed, hid behind another sip, and then stared at the ceiling.
Shane got the distinct impression that she was embarrassed over her situation, but he didn’t care. Sam was messing with Sebastian’s hair, and though Shane would have smacked his hand away if he’d dared touch him like that, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of envy at the attention Sebastian was receiving.
It made his blood boil, and try as he might, he couldn’t tear his gaze away.
“You know you can just go and talk to them, right?” Haley said, and Shane realized she was looking at the trio as well.
“Why would I?” He huffed indignantly. Then, as if something had possessed him, he heard himself pile on. “I have perfectly good company right here.”
It must be the alcohol talking. It even drove the point home by using his face to wink at her. Shane could have slapped his own forehead if it wouldn’t have made him look insane.
“Oh, really?” Haley asked, battering her eyelashes above her drink with a surprising amount of grace. She was obviously used to compliments. It made Shane wonder how far he could pull her strings.
“Sure,” he shrugged. “A pretty girl like you—It’s not every day you get to hang out with someone like that. Especially not in this area.”
That made her giggle, though Shane knew he could do better.
“Careful where you point that laugh,” he said, sipping on his beer. “You’ll make unsuspecting men fall for you.” It was a risky line, but the effect was immediate. Haley’s forced giggle turned into a light laugh, and her cheeks flushed with a deep shade of pink that contrasted her blonde hair beautifully. She really was pretty, Shane thought. What a shame it was wasted on him.
Though, he supposed he could appreciate it all the same. If Sam could move on, so could he.
Shane looked over to the backroom again, which gave him a glance of Sam and Abigail hunching over in a fit of laughter.
Not at all related to the sour feeling in his stomach, Shane turned towards the bar and took a couple steps away from his corner. It put him closer to Haley, which was nice, but more importantly it set him with his back to the pool table.
He was close enough to Haley now that he could reach out and touch her if he wanted to, though he wasn’t sure if he did. What he wanted was another beer.
“Emily?” He prompted, which landed him a refill in seconds. His head had started to spin slightly somewhere during the halfway mark of his last drink, but he didn’t care. As long as it stopped his head from doing so much damn thinking, it was fine with him.
“So what do you normally do, besides making sure my sister has a job to go to?" Haley asked, nursing a new drink. It was sickly pink and full of sparkling specks of glitter. It didn't look safe for consumption.
He looked her up and down, considering his options. He could continue to sulk, or he could take this opportunity to do something fun. Deciding he'd had enough of feeling sorry for himself, he plastered a smirk on his face and drawled, trying to make it sound effortless—"Normally I just drink, but today I'm enjoying the view as well." He tipped his glass towards her.
"Very smooth, Shane," she laughed. "You'd better be careful with those one-liners, you know. Unsuspecting women might fall for you."
"I'm counting on it," Shane nodded, letting his gaze linger on Haley's lips. Her lipgloss had faded, but the drink had left a soft sparkle right along the edge of her upper lip—and Shane suddenly had the urge to lick it off her. He returned his focus to her eyes, and found her staring at him intently.
She lifted an eyebrow in challenge. "Is that so?"
"Is it working?" Shane asked.
"Do you want it to?"
"Wouldn't be the worst thing for me if it did—" he shrugged, and drained his glass. He'd lost count of how many he'd finished by now. He sighed and adopted a more serious tone. "—However, you are better than this, Haley. You shouldn't be entertaining the town drunk like this. You don't want my reputation to rub off on you."
Haley looked at him with an unreadable expression, but said nothing.
"I'm serious, you should go home. Go back to Alex, or whichever poor sod you're seducing these days, who's not going to lure you in with pretend feelings, only to break your heart when the sun rises."
"Maybe I like to pretend."
"Don't tempt me."
"Then don't threaten me with a good time."
"Don't play with me, Haley. I'm not good for you." He lowered his voice, knowing Emily was out of ear shot but still feeling paranoid about it. "I will use you like a toy—like the pretty little doll that you are—and I don't have the patience to dry your tears when I tell you to leave in the morning." He truly didn't want to give her any false hope, and though he enjoyed the flirting, he wasn't sure what going any further would result in.
"Have you ever considered that you might not be the only one without a heart, Shane?" Haley asked, stone-faced. She matched his low hiss as she continued, "I am not some lovesick little girl. Maybe I want a man to fuck me senseless and forget my name before he wakes. Maybe I'm not the one being used."
Shane hadn't considered that, nor did he know what to reply. He stared dumbly at her for a moment, letting the words sink in.
"Are you going to fuck me or not, bird boy?"
"They're chickens," Shane replied without thinking.
"Would you rather I call you chicken boy?"
"Call me whatever you want, it won't matter with my dick down your throat."
"Sounds good to me," Haley shrugged, setting her glass on the counter and hopping off her stool.
"What?" Shane asked, sounding about as dumb as he felt.
"Are you coming, or what?" She asked over her shoulder.
Shane set his own glass on the counter and followed her out the door without further argument.
Haley was surprised at how easy it had been. She wasn't into Shane like that at all, but she'd decided she wanted to test herself—for fun of course, not because she was insecure or anything—just to see if she'd be able to, if she'd wanted.
Shane had proved to be a disturbingly easy target. She had to admit she'd set the bar quite low as she chose him, considering his talent for getting obscenely drunk in a short amount of time, but a goal is a goal and there was no point in aiming too high and getting disappointed either, she supposed.
All of this was racing through her mind as his tongue slid across hers with no small amount of effort and hunger on his part. His breath smelled of beer, but Haley had had worse, and she found herself enjoying the almost frantic way his hands were grabbing and pulling and groping her torso in their embrace against the brick wall of the Stardrop Saloon.
Shane grunted as Haley disconnected from his mouth and pushed him away. She didn't want to stop, but the "Food & Spirits" sign was digging into her shoulder blade and she had more than some kissing in mind for tonight.
"Come," she said, grabbing his hand before he could complain. She dragged him along, letting the lingering heat of his hands on her dispel the chill of the late night air. "The benches," she pointed.
"The benches?" Shane echoed with a hint of concern, though he followed her dutifully towards the small array of benches that were halfway between the Saloon and the graveyard.
"Don't be such a pussy," Haley teased, stepping over an overgrown flower bed.
The benches were old—they'd been there for as long as Haley could remember—but they were placed inside a half circle of poorly kept bushes and various plants that provided a small sense of privacy in the otherwise very open town square. Of course, no one was ever out this late unless they were headed home from the Saloon—and none of this evening's patrons lived in this direction anyway, so Haley was quite confident they wouldn't be spotted even if they did do it in the open.
"Sit," she demanded as they reached the benches.
Shane obliged, and his eyes grew impossibly wide as Haley climbed onto his lap. It was almost endearing, and she had to admit that seeing his reaction gave her the confidence boost she'd been craving all evening. Haley would never admit it, but the effect she had on men and what it did to her own sense of self was nothing short of addicting. She needed it.
As she adjusted her position on top of him, she could feel him growing hard underneath his jeans. The old wooden planks of the bench were uncomfortable against her bare knees, but she didn't care. Making a movement that hopefully seemed a lot less intentional to him than it was, she lowered herself under the guise of getting closer to him, feeling his full bulge against her panties. Thank Yoba for the blessing of mini skirts.
The move had the desired effect. Shane pressed up against her as he moaned deeply, and Haley took the opportunity to kiss his exposed neck as his head fell back.
"Yoba, Haley—" Shane gasped. "We can't— out here?"
"Shhh," Haley whispered against his ear. "Just enjoy it."
"Someone will see us," he continued, breath quickening as Haley dragged her tongue underneath his jawline.
"As long as you shut your mouth and stay quiet—" she breathed between quick kisses on his skin by the neckline of his t-shirt. "—They'll never know."
She half expected him to argue, but to her relief, Shane seemed to accept her logic. Either that, or he was to distracted by her touch. He was fully erect now, and she could feel the hard bulge pressing against her, and as much as she wanted to tease him for being so easily affected, she knew she would be a hypocrite. Her own underwear was clinging to her skin with wetness, the cool air making it impossible to ignore. Shane's warm hands were on her hips, and of course it was only due to the contrast of the cold night, but she could have sworn the heat from his palms radiated through her whole torso. She found herself yearning for his touch to move—to migrate down, down between her legs. She wanted him to touch her, use his fingers on her—make her come.
Haley disconnected herself from him—not without great effort—and climbed down from the bench. She kneeled in front of him and ignored his sound of surprise as she started unbuckling his belt. Her fingers were stiff from the cold, but she made quick work of the buttons as well, and soon she could wrap her hand around him.
"Sorry my hands are so cold," she apologized while slowly pulling his foreskin back.
"That's.." Shane breathed heavily, "—No problem. Kind of like it, actually."
"Good," Haley said, and without giving him any further warning she closed her lips around the tip of his cock.
Shane stopped breathing, and Haley wondered for a second if he was afraid she would stop if he made a wrong move, but then she felt his hand on the back of her head. Strong fingers locked in her hair at the base of her neck, and she was pushed down on his shaft.
Haley repressed a gag as he entered her throat.
She was surprised at how girthy he was. It was difficult to get all the way down his shaft, but to her relief, the tip of her nose soon met the skin of his belly. Slowly releasing her breath, she eased back up, savoring the sound of another moan above her.
The confidence boost she got from seeing the effect she had on men was intoxicating, and she relaxed into the wave of pleasure that crashed over her before it settled in the pit of her stomach.
She worked her magic on his cock for a while, letting him push her head down without resistance. Every time she lifted her head, she made sure to lick the underside of his head with the tip of her tongue. It tasted salty with precum and sweat at first, but after a few seconds all she could taste was the sweet remnants of the sugary drinks on her own saliva.
"Yoba—" Shane moaned, voice so low it sounded almost like a growl. "I need to fuck you."
Haley let go of his dick and leaned back on her heels, feigning innocence with a wide grin. "Whatever you want."
She stood up with a helping hand from Shane, and had to supress a giggle at his wide eyes as she rid herself of her underwear. Again, she praised Yoba for inventing miniskirts.
"Bend over," Shane demanded, hunger filling his voice.
Haley smiled, placed her knees on the bench and leaned over the back, sighing with relief. It wasn't comfortable per se, but the wooden planks were easier on her skin than the cobblestones had been.
She felt strong hands pull on her hips, and she dutifully adjusted her position. A light breeze caressed the bare skin of her exposed thighs as Shane pulled her skirt up, and she couldn't stop herself from gasping as he ran his fingers across her labia.
"Someone's horny," he teased, slowly tracing his fingers back and forth, smearing her slick around.
"I don't recall you being particularly unaffected yourself," Haley spat, but the quip lost some of its sting from the gasp that left her mouth as Shane entered her with two fingers.
"Tell me if you want me to stop," Shane said, tone surprisingly flat.
"I will," Haley nodded, distracted by the fingers moving inside her.
"I'm serious," Shane continued. "I'm not going to go easy on you, and I need to know you'll let me know if it's too much."
Haley rolled her eyes. "I didn't expect you to be the chivalrous type, chicken boy," she teased, pushing herself further down on his fingers.
Shane pulled his fingers out, and for a second Haley was about to turn around and protest, scared he had changed his mind, but she felt his hands on her cheeks, fingers squeezing into her skin, and then—
His dick was at her entrance, pushing against her tight walls. It took some adjusting, but slowly, carefully, he entered her. Haley bit her lip, refusing to acknowledge how tight of a fit it was, instead aiding him by gently pushing back as her walls stretched around him.
She could hear Shane let out a long breath as the last inch slid inside her, and she did the same. It had been a while since the last time she'd had someone of this size, and frankly, she had missed it.
"I'm going to start moving now," Shane announced after a couple of seconds.
"Take your time," Haley replied sarcastically. "Just—ah—fuck me already—"
Shane didn't waste another moment. He pulled back, then slammed back into her, forcing a moan out of her throat. The effect was immediate. Haley clenched around him with every thrust, desperate for that pressure against her sweet spot to continue. Shane's size and the angle at which he entered her meant his head rubbed against her most sensitive area on each passing, making Haley dizzy with pleasure.
"Ah—Fuck—" she gasped, fingers digging into the back of the bench.
"Shut up," Shane hissed, but he kept slamming into her at the same rate, and Haley couldn't help but moan.
Shane groaned, and Haley felt his left hand let go of her hip. A second later, his fingers clasped over her mouth, forcing it shut—except for his middle finger which slid in between her lips and pushed down on her tongue.
Haley relished the feeling. The pressure of Shane filling her pussy and her mouth at the same time was divine, just the thing she'd been craving. Something about the fresh air and the excitement of being out in the open complimented her lust beautifully, and she could feel her heartbeat quicken.
She let him work for a while, savoring the rush of excitement. From her place on the bench, she could see the lights from the Saloon's windows, and she wondered if anyone would come out and see them. See how her head bobbed back and forth with every thrust from Shane. Her hands grasping the back of the bench, nails digging into the wood. Maybe they would see Shane panting behind her as he fucked her.
Adrenaline surged through Haley's body, and her pleasure built with it. She clenched around Shane, pressure building as she neared her peak.
"Fuck—" Shane's voice growled behind her, and she could feel his grip tighten.
He let go of her mouth and replaced his hold on her hip, immediately upping the pace. He was close too, and the realization made Haley shiver with anticipation.
His fingers dug into her hip bone, pushing and pulling. Every new push was harder than the last, he was growing almost frantic in his movement, but Haley didn't mind. She leaned into it, letting him drag her over the edge with him.
She let the waves of pleasure wash over her as she came, Shane still ramming into her—rhythm more irregular than before.
Then, he tensed, he grunted, and he froze. A second later, he pulled out and plopped down on the bench next to her with a sigh, doing up the buttons and the belt of his jeans.
He didn't even look at her.
She hadn't expected any tenderness, or even warmth. For Yoba's sake, it was Shane. She'd asked for some quick fun, and she got what she'd wanted.
Still, there was an emptiness in her chest that suddenly made her feel painfully hollow.
Haley stood, picked up her panties that she'd thrown to the side earlier, and dropped them on his lap.
"A souvenir," she said flatly, turning on her heel.
"How generous," Shane said, matching her tone.
Haley was already walking away, stepping over the flower beds.
Her footsteps echoed as she crossed the cobblestone and turned toward her house.
A tear left a cold, wet line down her cheek, and Haley almost laughed at the crude irony as some of Shane's leftovers did the same down her inner thigh.
Haley had spent too long building the version of herself that didn't care. The one that nothing could touch, no one could reach.
It held. It always did, she didn't know any other way.
Still, the emptiness lingered, settling in her chest.
She had known being with Shane would feel just as empty and meaningless as the rest of her adventures. It was nothing more than a temporary distraction.
Still, the disappointment stung.
Haley could hear a ruckus of laughter behind her as the door to the Stardrop opened and some of the patrons spilled out, deep in friendly banter.
She kept her eyes forward, forcing her practiced smile. No one was watching her, but she needed the mask to hold.
They could never know.