Pryde and Beaver were supposed to be quick.
In and out. Grab some second hand clothes for Pepper that didn't look like they'd been slept in for three days, a couple boxes of non-perishables, maybe some fresh fruit if the market wasn't crawling with eyes. Vera had given them the list like it was a grocery run from the old bakery days. Simple. Low profile. The kind of errand that should've taken twenty minutes tops in this sleepy edge-of-town mall on a random Saturday.
Instead, they were in the emergency stairwell between the second and third floor, backs against the concrete wall, mouths fused together like they hadn't touched in weeks instead of hours.
Beaver had Pryde pinned, one thigh shoved between his legs, hands already under his shirt, laughing low and filthy into the kiss. "Fuck, you taste like that cheap mall coffee," Beaver muttered, nipping at his bottom lip.
