Imagine helping Scott hustle Chris.
You stood at a corner trying not to smile at how adorably competitive your boyfriend was being. It was a simple get-together celebrating Chris’ return that consisted of your brother, his brother, and a few of your closest friends. It was hard to believe you weren’t at a college frat party from the way your living room looked, and how the men were acting. They’d started a game of beer pong fifteen minutes ago which your brother and Chris were cleaning up; three games in a row they’d won and they were incredibly smug about it. It finally got to a point where Scott felt the need to grab you while you were walking out of the bathroom because he knew you were the challenging’s team only chance at beating the reining defenders.
Scott had seen you play beer pong before, it was at a party Chris couldn’t make so your boyfriend had no idea how good you actually were. To Chris, you were the girl who spent her nights watching Disney movies while the rest of your generation partied on. And you were that girl to some extent, but you had a wild side too; it was why you agreed to help hustle your own boyfriend. It wasn’t just to knock his smugness down a peg, you wanted to get out of something. There was a dinner party coming up hosted by a couple he knew you didn’t get along with, he’d tricked you into going so now you were going to trick him to get out of it.
“Suck it!” Both your boyfriend and your brother did all kinds of hand gestures as they landed the final shot, winning another game. “Man,” Chris turned to your brother, laughing. “I am getting thirsty on this end of the table.” Your brother laughed, meeting his high five. “I think we need to go grab ourselves a beer so we don’t dehydrate while waiting for someone to make a shot.”
“Don’t get too cocky,” Scott warned as the two of you approached the table. You picked up a ping pong ball with a smirk; Chris raised a brow at you while Scott filled the empty cups. “I’m thinking the babies of the family versus the big kids.” You grinned at your brother who knew perfectly well you were experienced in the game of beer pong; you crushed him at majority of the family parties your parents hosted when you were teenagers. “What do you say, big brother? Think you’ve got another game in you?”
“Oh, I definitely have another game in me,” Chris chuckled. “I’m being hesitant because I don’t want to end up having to sleep on the couch because my girl is sulking about how I demolished her at beer pong.” Scott turned to you, smirking; you played it clueless, rolling the ping pong ball in-between your palms. “But if you’re up for it, babe, I’m more than happy to oblige.”
Your brother suppressed his urge to laugh at the confidence of your boyfriend. Clearly, he’d no idea you were ridiculously good at beer pong. You played it often. It wasn’t always with beer or at a party, sometimes you’d just play it with your best friends at a sleepover. Occasionally when you had nothing to do, you’d fill plastic cups with water and practice. It was a good party trick, and you were much like your boyfriend- competitive. Your brother wasn’t going to say anything because he could tell you had something planned and he knew it was going to be amusing to watch.
“I think I’m up for it,” you nodded, pretending to be sweet and innocent despite having devised a plan to hustle the love of your life with his brother. “Could you be nice and go easy on me though? I’m not very familiar with this game and we both know how bad I am with balls.” You giggled when Chris choked on his spit, snickering.
“I’d beg to differ,” he winked and you laughed, “but you got it. Tell you what, if you get three shots in- we’ll admit defeat and you’ll be the new reigning champion.” You felt a smirk threatening to make an appearance, but you stopped it with a lick of your lips instead. “Scott’s not included in the deal, I’m just talking about you. If you get three shots, you guys win.”
“Can I also add something else to sweeten the pot?” You quizzed and Chris chuckled, nodding because he was confident you wouldn’t make it. “If I get three shots in, we skip Frank and Amanda’s dinner party next week.” It was a request he nodded at without hesitation, handsomely smug. “Do you promise?”
“Baby, if you get three shots in I’ll buy you VIP tickets to Taylor Swift’s world tour for ‘reputation’.” Chris informed you; both brothers covered their mouths to hide their snickers. “Three shots, and I’ll- no shit- get us out of that dinner party and take you to see Taylor Swift when she announces her world tour.”
“Sounds easy enough,” you shrugged nonchalantly. “Elbow behind the table, right?” You quizzed as you positioned your arm, earning a nod from him. You weren’t planning to make the first shot, you had to make it look real to actually hustle a man as smart as Chris. “Okay, let’s see.” You tossed it, missing the cups by a long shot. “Aw, no.” You pouted and Chris mirrored your pout. “It’s okay, I’ve got more shots.”
“Mm hm,” Chris nodded. “Shake it off, shake it off.” He sang and you giggled. “My turn.” He positioned his arm. “I know you don’t like beer, baby, so Scott will drink this for you.” He flicked his wrist and the ball flew across the table, landing in one of the cups on the back row. “Drink up, bud.”
Scott downed the beer then made his shot, hitting the edge of one of the middle cups. Chris chuckled, stepping out of your brother’s way so he could make his shot. It easily landed in the cup at the front, forcing Scott to take another drink. You tried again, missing once more much to Chris’ delight. You shrugged with a dramatic sigh, bringing Chris over to your side to give your forehead a quick kiss before he returned to make his shot. Again, into a cup that Scott had to drink. He then made his shot that successfully found its way into a cup that your brother drank, before making his shot that thankfully missed. You decided to stop with your act before Scott got too drunk, he’d already had quite a bit to drink before he started his first game of beer pong. Chris made him go get himself a glass of water while you got ready for your shot.
“Since Scott’s gone to get some water, can I take numerous shots in a row?”
“Take as many as you need to get three,” Chris told you, shrugging. He was so confident and so smug, you couldn’t wait to see his face when you cleaned up. “Take a deep breath,” he advised and you nodded, lining your shot. “If you miss the first one, use it as a ga-” He was cut off when your shot landed in the cup and those around the table cheered loudly. “Nice, baby.” He clapped then downed the drink, chuckling when you smiled coyly.
“Two more, right?” You quizzed and before he could answer your rhetorical question, you swiftly made both shots; the balls landed perfectly in the corner two cups in the back row. Chris’ jaw dropped and he gaped at you with wide eyes, unable to find the words. “What do I get if I get all the other cups?” You raised a brow, smirking with the smugness he’d lost. “It’s alright, you don’t have to tell me now.” You told him and made the rest of the shots; every ball you threw landed into a filled cup. “I’ll check back and cash in my winnings when you decide.”
“Did we just get hustled?” Chris leaned over to your brother and whispered.
“You just got hustled,” your brother confirmed for him with a nod. “I would’ve said something, but then she’d try and get me and- well, I’m not as wealthy as you are. I can’t afford VIP tickets to Taylor Swift,” he laughed with you and the rest of the group while Chris tried to process what had happened. “C’mon, man. You’ve been with her for two years, are you honestly that shocked? The girl is constantly bombarding you with new information and surprises.”
“Yeah, it’s like living with a spy,” Chris gave you the stink eye, trying not to smile. You giggled and padded over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Oh man,” he rolled his eyes, resting his hands on your waist. “I should’ve known, you and Scott are always up to no good. Then you ask for an out with the dinner party and- God dammit, Y/N,” he playfully nipped your neck and you squirmed, laughing. “I’m going to get you back for this, you know that right?”
“Now who’s sulking?”