Never Without You │ BOTW modern AU fanfic

Consent

Zant laughs. "DD duty, huh? Sucks for you."

Kiroh shrugs. "Gotta be the responsible one sometimes."

I nod along. Not because I agree but because I have nothing to add to the conversation. I take a hit from my joint, leaning against the wall as I listen to their banter. Everyone around me is getting hammered while my phone stays silent.

Blondie's still giving me the eye, and fuck it, I'm done waiting for Malice. One last hit, and I head over. She's got that smile, like she's been waiting for me. She takes the joint like it's hers. I don't mind. I pull her closer by her hips. Temptation's a bitch I'm done resisting. I grab her ass, hard, and she leans closer. I bring my lips to her ear and tell her about the coke. Could've been us, Malice.

She's into it and we start making out. A momentary escape from this apathetic mess. Locked in that kiss, all tongue and teeth, like nothing else exists. Malice who? The emptiness takes a back seat and there's just this heat between us.

I grab her hand, navigating the sea of bodies towards the staircase. I don't know her name, but I don't care. She's just a distraction. A piece of entertainment.

Upstairs is less busy and dimly lit. I shove open a door, taking us into an empty room. We stumble in. The door clicks shut, music now a distant thud. She shoves me against the wall, grinding against me.

When I pull out the little bag, she grins. I line up the coke, but I don't commit to it. I let her take it first. I decide to hold off on the coke for now. There's something intriguing about watching her take the leap and seeing how she'll react.

"Your turn," she slurs her words, a hint of playful dare in her tone.

I chuckle, shaking my head. "Nah, I'm good. I wanna enjoy the show."

And just like earlier, she doesn't mind being watched. She's more than willing to give me a show and strips for me without me having to do anything.

The alcohol's starting to mess with my head as the room goes in and out of focus. Her lips on mine again. I push my hands down on her shoulders, making her drop to her knees.

The vibe between us is heavy. I put my hands on her head and push inside her. Then I pull her hair back to make her look at me. She does whatever I want her to do. I tell her to keep going and she does, I tell her to keep looking at me and she does. I bet she'd swallow if I told her to.

My mind's drifting, going places I usually keep locked down. I take her to the bed, desire kicking up a notch.

"You feel something yet?"

She giggles and mumbles. "What do you think?"

We both know what's up. No need for fancy words or grand gestures. We're here, and the air's thick with this anticipation. I let her take off my clothes. She wants to be on top, but I want her on the bottom. I want her stomach pressed against the mattress. She doesn't object. I get behind her, I press her down.

Skin on skin, and suddenly Malice is back on my mind. Dammit, why now? I try to shove those thoughts aside but her talk about consent is making me feel guilty as fuck for having a good time.

"Are you good with this?" I ask, my voice kind of awkward as I look at her, the words stumbling out like a mess.

Her face pressed against the bed, she gives me this sidelong look. "You're asking now?"

I shrug. Better late than never.

"Are you good with this?" she asks me back, which feels even weirder than me asking her.

"I'm good with this." I'm more than good with this. I need this.

I lean in, press my chest against her back. She arches against me, panting. If that's not consent enough then I don't know what is.

I grip her messy hair. "Tell me you want this."

"I want this," she moans and gasps and claws the sheets when I thrust forward.

There you have it: consent.

For all I know, she could wake up in the morning, full of regret, and tell the whole world that she did not want this. And that she did not give consent. And that I'm the asshole who fucked her when she got fucked up.

And they'd believe her sorry ass.

✤ ✤ ✤

I wake up groggy as hell.

I blink, taking in the mess in my dorm. How the hell did I get here? The details are fuzzy but I must've driven home last night. Shit.

Rubbing my temples, I sit up, my thoughts slowly coming into focus.

Malice.

Why's she the first thing I think about? Goodman it. I grab my phone, half-expecting to see a message from her. But there's nothing. Just an Instagram notification.

I sit on the edge of my bed for a sec, still waking up. I'm so out of it, I'm probably still a little drunk. I need to smoke before I can function. My cigarette pack is on the floor next to my sweatpants and car keys. I pick up the pack and crack the window so I don't smoke up the dorm. The cig between my teeth, I check the Instagram notification.

Are you shitting me? A DM from Zelda?

*Palos Verdes cliffside trail. Meet me @ 1 pm.*

I stare at the text like I'm still dreaming. It's already noon and I don't know if this is a trap or something but it might be my only shot at getting her dad off my back, so I should get going.

I light my cig and get up. Let's hope my car's still in the parking lot and not totaled from last night.