“Hey, Deej? You have any cups I could use?” Gwen’s voice emanated from the kitchen, and shortly thereafter her head poked out from the archway leading into it, one eyebrow quirked.
DJ glanced over at her from where he was sitting on the couch with Geoff and Bridgette, who were, as per the norm, entangled in one another. “Sure thing, they’re in the cupboards above the oven. Top shelf. Though, on second thought,” He said with a growing grin as he climbed to his feet and stretched briefly, “I don’t think you’ll be able to reach ‘em.”
“Rude,” Gwen said, glowering at him as he approached, but as soon as he slipped past her and into the kitchen and she followed suit, the frown melted into a gentle grin.
“So,” DJ said once they were alone in the kitchen as he flipped open the cupboard and took a cup out. “What’s the deal? You’ve been here plenty of times. I’m pretty sure you almost gave yourself a concussion trying to get to these before.” He chuckled at the memory of walking into his kitchen and seeing Gwen sitting on the floor and scowling at the avalanche of cups surrounding her.
“And I’m pretty sure we agreed to not talk about that again, for the sake of my dignity,” Gwen grumbled, but she took the cup from DJ. Her hand lingered on his and she tipped her head up, smiling again. “But I had to get you alone somehow, didn’t I?”
DJ smiled and looked at the floor. His eyes had crinkled in that way she loved so much. “So, that’s what this is about,” He said, finally looking back up at her.
She grinned and curled her fingers around his, still holding the cup. “Yup.”
“Well…that wasn’t very subtle.” His somewhat bashful smile quickly turned into something more teasing and lighthearted.
“What?” Gwen’s eyebrows shot up. “For the record, I think it was very subtle. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
DJ laughed - a quiet chuff to keep from drawing Geoff and Bridgette’s attention. “Don’t you think they’re gonna notice when we spend, like, fifteen minutes in the kitchen just trying to get a cup?”
“Please. They’re so busy making out, they probably wouldn’t notice if a meteor struck ‘em.”
“Mm.” Gwen slipped the cup out of his hand and set it on the counter behind her, the one she was leaning against and gave him an implicative, sly smile. “I tend to make those from time to time.”
DJ grinned and, rather than respond with some kind of snarky remark, inched closer to steal a kiss - craning his neck to press his lips gently against hers. She tipped her head up and her hands instinctively followed, coming to rest on his broad shoulders, and his hands snaked around her.
“Gwen? DJ? You guys die in there, or what?”
They immediately broke apart. Gwen grumbled and DJ had to stifle a laugh. He caught her hand and squeezed it. “’Wouldn’t notice if a meteor struck them’, huh?”
She rolled her eyes. “Okay, maybe it wasn’t the best plan, but -”
“Next time,” DJ said with a laugh, giving her hand one last squeeze before letting go and backpedaling towards the living room. He tipped her a cheeky wink before ducking through the archway and vanishing.
Gwen shook her head before grabbing her cup and going to fill it with water, but there was a small smile meandering across her face.