You can't buy my love

[samson]

Who: Brock and Molotov
What: VALENTINE'S DAY CHALLENGE
When: 14/Feb, evening
Where: Room 509
Rating: PG-13??? Will edit if appropriate!

Even after that dumb argument (?) they'd had all because Brock teased some sad sack loser, Brock was still determined to have excellent Valentine's Day-themed makeouts with his wife. Because for real, she couldn't punish him for "disobeying" her -- he wasn't her little pet or whatever. Brock Samson bowed to no woman, no matter how awesome her tits were!

But he decided maybe he needed backup anyway. So he'd taken a box of chocolates from one of the stores in town and had replaced half the chocolates with the dumb, magic candy the castle liked to give them every year. Molotov was probably going to find out in the end, but it would be worth it.

Brock was kind of awful.

Holding the box of chocolates, he knocked on their door. He had a key, of course, but he was running under the assumption that she booby-trapped the door just in case.

Comments

[molotov]

Molotov absolutely could punish him, and that's exactly what she was doing. While she hadn't gone to the extent of returning the lingerie she'd bought, she had locked it all away in the closet, and she didn't intend to get it out any time soon.

She also didn't intend to open the door. She only glanced through the peephole before wandering off to the living room, yelling, "Fuck off!" as loudly as she could.

[samson]

She certainly could not! Molotov misunderstood what marriage was; it was not about holding lingerie hostage, it was about making out on holidays! Jeezy petes, watch some television sometime, Molotov.

Brock cringed a little when she yelled that loudly, reflexively glancing over his shoulder to see if any of their neighbors were being particularly nosy tonight. Probably they were used to the noise by now, he thought with a grimace, then just rolled his eyes and opened the door anyway. If she had some dumb booby trap set up, he would just have to deal with it. "Molotov."

[molotov]

Yes she could! She was already doing it, he couldn't stop her. So there, how about them apples.

Molotov ignored him as he came in, and just harrumphed, pretending to very aloofly read a magazine. Upside down, because she hadn't paid attention when she picked it up.

[samson]

Ha ha, Molotov please. Please! Brock just stood in the door, looking at her. When she didn't shoot at him or throw, like, a wolf at his face or something, he shrugged and came inside.

Shutting the door behind him with his foot, he held out the chocolates. "I got you a thing. Stop being mad."

That'll work!

[molotov]

Sure will!

"Fuck you, I am not eating the castle's stupid chocolate," she said, glancing over there. Did he think she was retarded?

[samson]

Brock rolled his eyes, still holding out the chocolates.

"It's from the town. I bought it," he said, shaking the box a little. Come on! "They're super fancy."

Molotov liked fancy things.

[molotov]

"Then you eat them, fatass," she shot back, not believing him for a second.

[samson]

"I bought them for you," he started to say heatedly, then took a big breath to calm himself down. He bought her these candies -- some of which were indeed surreptitiously replaced by the magic ones -- as a peace offering. Getting into an argument with her was kind of counterproductive to that.

"Look. We can share it."

He pointedly opened the box and popped a piece into his mouth, chewing with his eyebrows raised. See? No weird side-effects, lady.

[molotov]

Molotov glared at him for a few more long moments, attempting to drive home the fact that she hated him a lot, then reached for a chocolate. She made a big show of breaking it open and inspecting it before she bothered even taking a tiny nibble.

[samson]

Molotov was rude as hell! Brock spent a moment looking at her and trying to get that particular point across. Rude rude rude.

He snorted when she, like, looked at the chocolate like it was laced with poison or something, then nodded toward the bedroom. "C'mon. We can open some champagne or something."

[molotov]

"I do not want to," she said huffily, eating the remainder of her chocolate (which happened to one of the normal ones) before turning away from him.

She needs convincing, Samson!

[samson]

But he doesn't know how to convince! Unless... did she want his dick? He could convince her if she happened to want some dick. That's about all he has going for him.

"I'll give you a foot massage," he said, going toward her to bump his hip against her back. "C'mon."

[molotov]

"You better not hurt me," she warned, storming toward the bedroom and leaving him in her wake. She was just being bitchy for fun, at this point.

[samson]

Brock snorted, rolling his eyes, but followed her anyway.

"I thought you liked that," he said smoothly, tossing the chocolates on the bed and shrugging his coat off. He was just going to leave it on the floor for now, which wasn't that unusual.