She didn't mean to slip up so fantastically like that.

But it's been on her mind this whole time. Yes, she was genuinely interested in his special secret hobby because lingerie is super pretty, but also another large and vocal part of her brain was a pervert. And she slipped up big time letting that out.

The expression Deimos gave her was a mix of shock and betrayal. He looked like she punched him in the face and if someone asked about what underwear she was wearing she'd probably give that look too.

"You're so drunk," he said bluntly. His hated expression softened into annoyance and he let go of her. The world was spinning again and she felt like she was falling. However, Deimos casually lifted her up and plopped her onto the bed, watching how her head rolled back and she groaned in pain.

"S-Sorry," she slurred. All the alcohol was hitting her at once. The sensation was overwhelming, it felt like she was drowning and spinning and falling. Her sense of judgement was out of the window by now and before Deimos could run, she grabbed his wrist and yanked him onto the bed. “No, wait, d-dude-”

Hotly, he ripped his wrist out of her grasp. He stared daggers at her.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make it weird, I actually wanna be friends with you,” she said as quickly as she could, even though she couldn't understand exactly what she had said. Dizzily, she sat up to try to prove a point but the boy immediately pushed her back down on the mattress.

“Chill.” He frowned at her.

“Deimos, you're so cool and knowing you wear lingerie makes you cooler.”

“That's usually not the normal response.”

“When in the world am I ever normal? Have you seen me? I'm a little baby boy with boobs.”

“Well, I'm not going to argue with that.”

“You're cute.”

“Shut the fuck up,” he snapped. But Mira could see a blush blossoming on his olive skin. “Brat.”

“Cutie.”

“You’re so fucking drunk,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes. “You probably won’t even remember this conversation.”

“I will and next time I’m sober, let’s get coffee.”

“Fuck off.”

Mira will have to admit, being so intoxicated meant she had no filter to stop vocalizing the thoughts she was thinking. However, being so intoxicated meant she was being more honest and open, which lent to her being able to talk so comfortably with Deimos. And from judging how he relaxed on the edge of the bed, he didn’t hate her completely.

“You’re not so scary,” she hummed. “You’re a cute n’ cool lingerie connoisseur.”

“You’re only saying that because you’re drunk.”

Pouting, Mira whacked his arm. He looked hurt and glared at her.

“Deimos, you’re pretty friggin cool,” she said.

“I fucking hate you,” he hissed and rubbed his neck nervously. Mira smiled and rolled over to him, happily laying her head in his lap without his permission. He stared down at her in shock and Mira felt his thighs tense up.

“Ehehe.”

“Get off.”

Like the little shit she was, she wrapped her arms around his torso and hugged him. He was warm and slowly Mira’s eyes fluttered shut.

“Mira, what the fuck.”

“Where are you from originally?”

There was a pause. Even though Mira couldn’t see, she knew he was looking down at her and calculating how to deal with her. And from the sudden release of tension in his legs, he decided to open up. A smile crept up on her face and she buried her face into his sweater. He smelled nice.

“Greece.”

“Ha, I knew it. You’ve got a slight accent. Also, you look like the perfect Greek Classical Ideal.”

“Thanks?”

“It’s a compliment. Did you move here for school?”

“…Yeah.”

“Live on campus?”

“No, in the apartments near the campus though.”

“That’s awesome,” she chuckled. “Must be crazy moving to a new country.”

“Yeah, bullshit like this happens.”

“I’m cool bullshit.”

He let out a chuckle.

“Made any cool friends?”

He paused again.

“Not really.”

“Well now you’ve got the coolest friend.”

“Screw off.”

Mira sighed and rolled over onto her back so she could stare up at him. “It’s the rumors, isn’t it?”

“You’re just dissecting me apart,” he sighed, annoyed. His eyes narrowed.

“They’re not true at all, aren’t they?”

He rolled his eyes.

“Imma fight whoever started them.”

“That would be a sight.”

“I’ll do it. Who’s bullying you?”

“No one,” he hissed. Suddenly a hand was in her face and covered her eyes. “Go to sleep.”

“That’s sounds really appealing actually.”

“Then do it.”

“I can’t, I gotta amuse you.”

“No you don’t.”

Mira smiled and shoved his hand off her face. Slowly but surely, she sat up this time, grabbing Deimos’ shoulder to prop her up. He reluctantly helped her, glaring at her the whole time and let her rest her cheek on his shoulder. Sighing, Mira listened to his quick breathing as well as the ruckus downstairs. Occasionally people would pass the door and when a recognizable song thumped through the blasted speakers, there was an influx of cheering. For a while, both of them were insanely quiet.

“I’m not wearing matching underwear tonight,” he said suddenly.

Mira blinked and glanced at him. His face was completely red.

“I just wore the bralette because it brings me ease.”

“Like a good luck charm?”

He nodded shyly.

“That’s awesome,” she chuckled. “Wearing feminine panties, isn’t it uncomfortable?”

He refused to look Mira in the eye. Her stare landed on his lips where a pink tongue swiped at and teeth bit. She felt a blush spread across her cheeks.

“You probably look good in panties.”

His eyes clicked to her. They were wide.

Mira knew how close she was to Deimos. She could smell his minty breath. And being so close to his face made her realize there was a little bit of blue in his olive green eyes. They were so striking with his dark skin. And he wasn’t glaring at her.

God, she was so drunk.

She wondered if Deimos’ love of lingerie correlated with sexual desire. He could totally just like it aesthetically and how it makes him feel, but she also wondered if there was any underlying tone to it all. Was he turned on in public when he walked around in lingerie in dull clothes? Did he like how the fabric feels when he touches himself? Does he wear lingerie to feel sexually good?

Mira loved wearing her favourite underwear for a late night “relief session.” She felt sexy and good and loved the sensation of touching herself through her clothes. Did Deimos like it too?

She stared at his long eyelashes, thick eyebrows and red lips.

“You’re beautiful,” she said.

Deimos sucked in a breath.

Suddenly, the door banged open.

“Mira?” Hayden called before registering the two individuals on the bed.

Instantly, Deimos backed off Mira’s advance. He pretended he wasn’t about to kiss the shit out of her and stared at the young attractive male at the door. Hayden stared straight at him, a sort of possessiveness beneath the cool gaze. Deimos knew how compromising their positions were. Mira hand her hand in his lap, squeezing his thigh and her face inches from his. There was also the fact that they were on the bed. His heart was ramming against his ribcage.

“Dominoes, you dog,” Hayden laughed bubbly. The laugh wasn’t genuine, Deimos wasn’t an idiot. He took Hayden’s slight joke as a sign to quickly get up and away from Mira to still his beating heart.

“Don’t call me that,” he hissed, rubbing his neck. “Also, no it’s not what you think.”

Mira could barely keep herself upright without Deimos. It sort of made him want to come back and help but with Hayden’s eyes boring holes into his skull, he tried to stay as far away from Mira as possible. To him, Mira and Deimos were two strangers and not some sort of secret couple. To him, they probably looked like the world’s most unlikely pair. A sweet little tomboy and a monster.

“Hey, I’m open to anything if Mira’s cool with it.” To top off the cake, Hayden winked.

What the fuck is wrong with him?

Hayden was the epitome of a rich white boy. There weren’t a shortage of girls that loved his looks, and from judging his own house, he didn’t have a shortage of cash as well. Deimos had two classes with this guy and he always had people left and right flocking to him like bees and honey. He wasn’t the classiest guy, but probably a good thing for Mira?

Deimos paused.

“Wait, are you two a thing,” he asked suddenly.

“We furiously made out in the washroom.” Smirking, Hayden shrugged. Mira bit her lip and chuckled.

Holy shit.

Mira didn’t seem like the type to just dive into something like that. It might be the alcohol or it might be just poor judgement on Deimos’ part. Whatever it was, thinking of Mira “furiously making out” made him flare up (though it couldn’t beat Mira saying panties probably looked good on him). Would she take charge or be dominated? How would she kiss? Was she a biter? A licker? Has Hayden touched her face because her cheeks are really soft?

For a moment, all three of them were silent before Hayden spoke up again, a little cocky this time.

“Deimos? If you’re going to watch, then by all means stay, but if not, you wanna peace out?” He asked with a smile.

Deimos stared at him. “Wait, what?”

Hayden’s striking smile dropped. “What do you mean, what?”

“Mira’s fucking drunk, you can’t have sex with her,” he said bluntly.

She laughed.

“Are you being serious right now, Deimos?” Hayden frowned. “Mira and I really like each other.”

“She can’t give clear consent,” Deimos shot back. Hotly, he looked at her. “She can barely sit up straight!” Something deep within him bubbled up. His hands were shaking. Hayden was absolute trash.

“I don’t believe you’re pulling the consent card.” Hayden shook his head.

A wave of rage passed over him. Deimos paused to recollect himself before walking over to Mira.

“I’m bringing you home, this is fucking ridiculous,” he hissed.

“W-What, why?” Mira slurred. Her eyes widened in surprise when Deimos hoisted her up into his arms.

“Are you serious, Dominoes?” Hayden cocked an eyebrow. He seemed pissed off, but gaging how easily he was to shove out of the way to get the door, he didn’t care about Mira that much. Which made Deimos angrier?

Mira sighed and rested her head against his chest.

“I’m absolutely fucking serious,” he spat back.

“How will I know you’re not going to assault her,” he rebutted, crossing his arms.

“I’m not an asshole,” he called back, heading for the stairs. And that was the end of Hayden.

With the thick crowds of people, it was hard to maneuver around carrying a small girl in his arms without bumping into at least one person. The stairs were the hardest part since the light was so dim and there could be anything on the steps from empty solo cups to chunks of vomit. People stared at him as he passed, their stares burning into his skin.

Mira hummed and looked up at Deimos, her eyes straining to see him in such dark light.

“I feel like shit,” she grumbled. “What the hell.”

“That’s what you get for not pacing yourself.”

“Are you seriously bringing me home?”

“Did you come alone or with a group?”

“Group.”

“Who’s your designated driver?”

“Dede.”

Thankfully, Deimos knew her and from the loud cheers of her name, knew where she was. There was a monstrous crowd in front of one of the largest televisions in the house with people cheering on Mira’s friend and another individual who were versing each other in Smash Bros. They amount of eyes that zoned onto him was intense but thankfully (again) it didn’t last long as Dede destroyed her opponent. She rejoiced, high-fiving the people around her before landing her gaze on Deimos, her eyes going wide. Quickly, she scampered over.

“What’s wrong with her?” She asked.

“She’s way too drunk,” he responded. Dede was tall, almost as tall as Deimos and when she’s angry she can be pretty scary. The last thing he wants to do is piss her off. “If it’s alright with you, I can drive her home.”

It was blistering hot and insanely loud downstairs. Deimos could barely hear her reply but from the teasing sneer and clap on his back, he assumed everything was alright. Which was odd because if Deimos saw one of his friends being carried bridal style by a man that looked like, well, him, he’d immediately say no.

On his way out, a group of drunk buffoons hooted and hollered at him as he carried Mira out the door, their energy immediately souring Deimos’ already steadily declining patience. He shot them a nasty glare, but it only seemed to rile them up even more. Good thing he was leaving this goddamn house and probably never coming back after realizing how much of a dick Hayden was. How could he even think of having sex with Mira when she’s so out of whack?

After somehow getting her into the passenger seat in his old truck, Deimos slipped into his seat and ignited the engine. The roar of the vehicle made Mira jump and hazily look around his old tin can.

“How are you?” Deimos asked calmly, blasting the heaters as he waited for the car to warm up.

“I feel sick.”

“That’s what you fucking get.”

“No, like I feel like I’m going to hurl.”

Deimos stared at her. “Don’t fucking do it in the car.”

Mira clutched her stomach and she started to breathe hard.

“Mira, I swear to God if you fucking barf in the car-”