It was one of those annoying misty days that never seemed to make up its mind on whether to actually rain or not. His hooded jacket was damp to the touch when he got to her apartment and he peeled it off early to reveal the ever present spandex muscle shirt. She assumed it made him feel less insecure because he’d only taken it off once when they were together and she had to ask him to. She preferred the feeling of skin to skin contact but conceded to his quirk. This wasn’t anything serious anyway; it was easier to make concessions when they felt like they had a time limit.
After twenty or so minutes of TV and small talk he looked at her and said, in his way, “Are you ready to bang?”
She felt a little thrill, a skip of the heart that she always felt when he was so brutishly blunt. She didn’t exactly like it and laughed it off most of the time but it did something to her, knowing how consumed he was with the idea of sex in her presence. She laughed and smiled at him, her “aren’t you dumb but adorable” smile and then nodded.