Slash Me Twice

Trolley


"Please let me have it?" he asks, wide green eyes paired with a definitely cute pout. Oh damn, how am I supposed not to give in?
"Very well," I grumble, reluctantly letting go of the trolley and pushing it over to Sean. Why oh why did I agree to this? We've been shopping together before and I know what'll happen.
Shaking my head I follow Sean as he starts to push the trolley through the supermarket, a look of intense concentration on his face. He's always so happy to have the trolley that he walks through the whole supermarket at least three times, one time to see what exactly they're selling, one time to earnestly ponder what to buy and a last time to finally take the items he wants. If it's a bad day or he forgot anything he just makes another round. And he always forgets something. I'm sure he does it for the sole purpose of pushing the trolley a little longer.

Household items... dairy products... deep frozen items....
I sigh, cursing myself for not suggesting to simply order a pizza or something. But Sean loves to cook and I love to watch Sean cooking and cooking a decent meal (not that Sean would recognize one if it bit him in the arse) sadly requires shopping.

"What?" I ask, suddenly confronted with a deathly green glare.
"You're doing it again!" He has let go of the trolley and crossed his arms in front of his chest, already drawing curious looks from an old lady with his almost palpable anger blazing at me.
"I'm doing what again?"
"You're inwardly groaning about my way of shopping!"
"I'm not."
The glare intensifies.
"Maybe a little..."
"You're just angry because I got the trolley!"
"I'm not Sean. I gave it to you." Do we really have to have this conversation in the wine section? Way too many breakable things around here.
"Why does it bother you?"
"Why does what bother me?"
"Giving me the trolley."
"It doesn't bother me, it only bothers me to walk through the entire building four or more times." Uh oh, that was not the right answer.
"You don't really want to go shopping with me," he states, anger suddenly gone from his eyes, "You hate it."
"I don't," I sigh again. Please stop biting your lower lip! It makes me all...
"Why can't you stand to share somethig as basic as shopping with me?" he interrupts my thoughts, "It's one of the most normal things and..."
"Sean..." a warning growl.
"And I love shopping for dinner and you're probably only stopping me because,"
"Sean!"
"You don't want me to cook for you and... mpfh!"
Ah, that managed to shut him up quite nicely I decide, ignoring the old lady's muffled gasp. I should try to further explore this way of quieting Sean.
"Viggo..." he gasps, as I briefly let go, to push him back against one of the racks, "This is not..."
I move in again, claiming those delicious lips with more force than necessary, knowing they will be bruised later and wanting them to show that he's mine. His moan echoes in my body, tingling straight to my groin. How is it possible to need someone so much?
I plunge into the hot cavern of his mouth, determined to claim what I long for, one hand tangled in his hair and the other moving swiftly towards his zipper. Warm, slick tongue fighting with mine, hands roaming my back. I groan, shivering violently as his arousal presses against my hand. Need him.

"What?" Bewildered I stare at him, hand raised to my now bleeding lip.
"Sorry," he smiles impishly, "But I couldn't let you give the other shoppers a heartattack."
I nod, confused. "So," I clear my throat, "Ready to go on shopping?"
"Yupp," he grins at me, the mere sight giving my heart a pleasurable squeeze, "Did that kiss mean you don't mind me cooking for you?"
Laughing I shake my head.
"And you'll let me have the trolley again next time?"
"Maybe..."

Just maybe. It always gets him riled up when I beat him to the trolley and I love the way he's picking fights with me when he's insecure or angry. Because it means either making up afterwards or easing his troubles. And both are things I enjoy immensely, even with the old lady looking ready to committ murder.
I'll make sure I get to the trolley again first next time I decide, licking my lips. Definitely.