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failuretotrust.]
99 was never a huge football fan, but she knew enough to enjoy it. And she never missed the Superbowl if she could help it. Though this year she wasn't really enjoying it. Sure, the pizza was good, the company was fantastic, but the game was boring her. She didn't care for either team.
When the halftime show started she grinned and turned to Dean. "Ready for The Boss?"
"Eh," Dean said with a shrug. "Depends on what he plays."
"Oh please," she rolled her eyes and picked up her beer. Yes, she made him get the good stuff. She didn't drink piss water, not even during the Superbowl. "It's Springsteen." She nudged him in the shoulder, leaning closer. "He's badass, even at his age. It's hot."
"He's no Zeppelin," Dean said with, giving her a look. "Springsteen is good -- on occasion. Like Bon Jovi. But not all the time."
Her foot started tapping along to the song and her arm moved around his shoulders as she softly sang along with a grin. She loved Springsteen. He probably could get the idea the way her fingers were roaming against his neck as she pressed closer. Dean may not like Springsteen, but if it meant good for him, then by all means, he could certainly approve of her enjoying it. He inched closer, sliding an arm across her waist and pulling her closer. As Born To Run started, she slid her bottle to the table and moved into his lap. Her arms went around his waist and she leaned in to kiss his neck. "I've always like this song," she whispered. "Tramps like us, baby we were born to run..."
( *** )
failuretotrust.]99 was never a huge football fan, but she knew enough to enjoy it. And she never missed the Superbowl if she could help it. Though this year she wasn't really enjoying it. Sure, the pizza was good, the company was fantastic, but the game was boring her. She didn't care for either team.
When the halftime show started she grinned and turned to Dean. "Ready for The Boss?"
"Eh," Dean said with a shrug. "Depends on what he plays."
"Oh please," she rolled her eyes and picked up her beer. Yes, she made him get the good stuff. She didn't drink piss water, not even during the Superbowl. "It's Springsteen." She nudged him in the shoulder, leaning closer. "He's badass, even at his age. It's hot."
"He's no Zeppelin," Dean said with, giving her a look. "Springsteen is good -- on occasion. Like Bon Jovi. But not all the time."
Her foot started tapping along to the song and her arm moved around his shoulders as she softly sang along with a grin. She loved Springsteen. He probably could get the idea the way her fingers were roaming against his neck as she pressed closer. Dean may not like Springsteen, but if it meant good for him, then by all means, he could certainly approve of her enjoying it. He inched closer, sliding an arm across her waist and pulling her closer. As Born To Run started, she slid her bottle to the table and moved into his lap. Her arms went around his waist and she leaned in to kiss his neck. "I've always like this song," she whispered. "Tramps like us, baby we were born to run..."
( *** )
