Even through the tumult of another odd work night serving comrades from every sector and planet imaginable, working in the newly rebuilt Big W was more of stress relief than anything. That is, except for half of the owning team, the illustrious and asshattish Guy Gardner. The cleaning work called, however, bringing with it memories of bars back home on earth, the stacking of chairs bringing a smile to your lips, especially after the riots, the laws changing, and the out and out chaos. You did your part, fought with the rest, and managed to survive, but you didn’t have anything so momentous as the owner’s positions to weigh on your shoulders.

You can’t help but glance up at Gardner, though he scarcely noticed. Picking at leftover onion rings and nursing a whiskey, he seemed to only half-listen to Rayner, his mouth tight. Curiosity nibbled at you, he never shuts up, something must be wrong. Rayner seemed concerned, judging by the slight frown. You wondered why you let your own concern and curiosity show; you knew he just kept you around for a pair of tits to look at and a set of hands when the place got too packed. You weren’t afraid to smack his hand or snarl at him when he goosed you, but he just seemed to take it as your own brand of flirting. There was none of that snide grin or his usual flippant nature now, though.

“Look, I don’t want to talk about it, Kyle. We’re over and that’s it. Bea couldn’t stand me anyway, maybe they’ll be happy toge-”

“Come on, Guy, she may have flipped, but-“ Guy’s expression stops Kyle for a moment, but he perseveres, standing to push in his chair.

“Just keep it in mind, okay?”

He claps his friend on the shoulder and retreats to get some rest, his share of the work already done. When he bids you goodnight, you realize you’d stopped in the middle of wiping the counters down.

You respond in kind, sigh and hop to it, as much as the place gave you nostalgia of all sorts, you didn’t exactly want to be cooped up alone all night. You hear Guy’s glass thump, the ice clink, and the splash of more whiskey. Your eyes follow the whirl of polished wood grain, until you feel his eyes on you. He swigs half down now, but his eyes are back on you in a moment. A frown tugs at your lips, but you just stare back at him a moment, before moving on to reloading the napkin dispensers and hanging the wineglasses back up in the racks. By the time you’ve made it to stacking the plates, you want to throw one at him.

“Do I have something on my face? What?” He scoffs into the alcohol, earning a dreary look from you.

“I’m just waiting for you to try to take me down another peg, babe.” He sneers a bit, “Gotta be ready for that ‘witty sniping’ you love to do. To be honest, kinda sounds like fun right now.” The dark smile makes you scowl, so much for the warmth of home.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I think you’ve had too much to drink and ought to go home, boss.” You hiss the last word leaning on the bar with the other hand at your tilted hip.

“Oooh, there’s that spitfire! Come on, lob one at me, gimmie your best shot, sweets.” He smirks, but his eyes aren’t on yours. The obvious stare at your (admittedly, not astounding) breasts makes you draw a slow, calming breath. At this point you wonder if he wants to pick a fight, try to score with you, or both.

“You’re drunk, and bitchy. Go home, Guy.” The use of his first name catches his eye finally, “I’m just trying to do the same, and your business with whoever the hell is back on Earth is your business.” You turn and finish stacking the plates, pausing to glance up at him.

“But, to be honest, I hope it works out for you…” You leave it at that, avoiding his eyes now. He wouldn’t be a freaking Honor Guard Green Lantern if he wasn’t a good man at heart. At least at the moment, but you rid your mind of thoughts of Sinestro. Frequent asshole or no, that first thought still rang out in your mind, and maybe he could get whatever drama had separated him and his apparent ex sorted. You put your mind into tidying and making sure everything is in place for tomorrow, a bit in the clouds as you tuck a last barstool under the ledge of the bar. When you turn and walk into his chest with a yelp, you realize just how tall he is all over again. You make a note not to scrabble away on the freshly mopped floor.

“See, knew you totally had a thing for me.” He sent a smug glance down his nose, his arms crossed as he towered over you.

“God, why does it always have to… Argh! I didn’t even mean it like that!”

“Hmm… And you can’t deny it.” Seriously? Did he seriously just say that? Oh, his jaw was just asking for a real nice right hook. Get him real square, maybe get him just off balance enough to storm out, go to your quarters, and go to bed without any more of this.

“Gardner, you are such a dick.”

“Ooo, after mine, huh? Can’t say I’d mind having a pair of legs like yours wrapped around my waist. And besides, once you get a taste of me, you won’t be able to go back to any of those nancy boys in… Wait, what shithole didja say you were from again?”

“You know what? I take it back, I hope she pisses in your coffee when you’re recovering from the hangover you get from all that fucking moonshine.” His hand on your arm stops you from stalking away, but it’s the look in his eye that really keeps you from getting home.

“Yeah, maybe. But you meant that earlier.”

“And? “

“Why?” You’d never really shown much outweighing concern for him before, so the question is at least half warranted, if a bit loutish. You chew on your words a moment, noting that his hand is still closed around your arm just above your elbow.

“It just… sounded like a nasty situation, I wouldn’t want to feel like you clearly did. Do. I don’t know.” His continued stare makes your cheeks burn. “Fff… Okay, just forget I said anything if it’s bothering you that much, jeeze. Can I have my arm back now?”

“No.” He smirked, an eyebrow arching.

“What?” you deadpan, mouth flat in irritation, one eye slightly shut as you scrutinize him. That doesn’t last too particularly long as he tips your chin up with the hand bearing his ring. You feel it press just slightly at your neck. You bat the hand away with a cross glare, but you’re already blushing darker. Damnit, why did he have to be hot? Figures, the one guy you’re attracted to on this damn rock is a total asshole.

“I’m not gonna forget it and I’m not giving your arm back yet. You do care about me.”

“On a basic sentient-being level, sadly, yes. I’ll take care not to make that same mistake again.”

“I dunno, personally, I kind of like it.”

“Being a total asshole?”

“That too, but I’m just too awesome, apparently, seeing as you got it so bad for me.”

“Last I checked you were the one keeping me here.”

“Pff, oh whatever, I saw you head butt a four armed Sinestro flunkie into unconsciousness last month, you could leave whenever you wanted.” The mix of compliment edged with condescension makes you shoulders tense, but stomping on his foot right now didn’t exactly seem too terribly diplomatic.

“Besides, maybe you need a little TLC, huh? You’ve got good taste, comin’ after me, surprising in such a rookie like you.”

Fuck diplomacy. His swearing and hopping is remarkably satisfying, if only because he honestly didn’t seem to expect it.

“You are so irritating. It’s your calling in life, I think, to be an unrepentant asshole.” You snarl, dusting your shirt off needlessly.
He gives you a determined glance even as he rubs his foot, mouth set to one side shifts into a calculating stare.

“I’ve got a proposition.” The connotation makes your face burn.

“Not interested, you skeezy freaking-“

“Hey, hear me out! I wasn’t talking about anything like that.” There was an obvious but unstated ‘yet’ there in the bow of his smile. You grouse, but don’t call him on it.

“Ugh. Fine. What?”

“Gimmie a kiss.”

“Like hell!”

“No! Seriously, give me one kiss, and if you don’t like it, I’ll go home. If you do… Then you gotta gimmie a shot.” The timing, especially with the path that had started this whole conversation, suddenly sent up a red flag.

“I’m not going to play some stupid rebound game with you, Gardner.”

“Guy. You called me that earlier. And it wouldn’t be rebound.” He utters your first name, starting to make some crack about bouncing when you snap. If it means you can forget all this and just go home and finally sleep, what’s the harm in a kiss? The alcohol has slowed his reaction, to where he’s still trying to talk right up to when you’ve grabbed his lapels and yanked his lips to yours. It’s clumsy, you keep your lips tightly closed, and he doesn’t really get a chance to respond before you’re already leaning back and scowling to spite a brief clench of your fingers. You’ve forgotten to let go of his shirt, but it doesn’t keep you from speaking.

“There, I kissed you, go to bed and sleep off that hooch.” There’s another snort and a roll of his eyes. Guy plants his hands on your hips and suddenly you feel dwarfed all over again.

“What was that? Spin the bottle tribute? I want a real one.” He doesn’t wait for you to initiate this time, walking you back until he has you trapped between his arms and a barstool. He tips your head up again and takes a kiss this time, but to his credit he waits a moment before forcing his tongue past your slightly shock-parted lips. He lifts a hand to the back of your neck, your eyes still wide as his chest presses flush against yours. The hand drifting in your hair manages to ease your eyes closed, his thumb trailing behind your ear. You earnestly begin to answer the kiss, your palms flat against his chest now, but his hand roams lower, taking a brutish handful of your ass through your clothes. You tense and make an effort to smack it. Your teeth snap on empty air when he jerks back with a smile, the man pulling you up onto the stool so he might kiss your ear.

“Easy with those teeth, baby.” He didn’t wait for a verdict on the kiss, you doubt if you’d be very convincing anyway. His hands, however, don’t expressly behave, sliding up your legs to brush his thumbs across the lines your pants make across your hips.

“E-easy with those hands…” you retort, biting your lip to withhold a gasp as he kisses below your jaw, biting softly at the crook of your neck. Your fingers dig into his shoulders a moment, a shiver cascading down your back. He soothed the teeth marks with a slow lap of his tongue, his arms winding around you. Guy stands, taking the liberty of cupping your backside more gently; kissing you right into the edge of the bar behind you. One hand smoothes along your thigh, a daring thumb tracing under a fold of cloth rather close to your crotch. When you jump, he chuckles, letting another kiss draw out more slowly. Licking his lips with his hands still wandering, he smiles, hazed eyes regarding your own.

“Don’t forget to finish up.” Instead of a typical snide term of endearment, he just makes a sucking kiss at the base of your neck, leaving you shivering on the barstool. It takes the creak of the hinge and the latch of the door for you to realize he’s not about to drag you into the back room and push the boundaries a bit more. Frankly, you can’t decide if that’s a good or a bad thing.

~~

Of course the night had gone by a little strangely, the next morning drifting in a groggy fog as you opened up and started the cooking prep work. You hoped the crowd would take it easy, but there was no telling when all your customers were the intergalactic police of sorts. You groan as the soda fountain starts acting up again, bending to take a look. You hedge a tired ‘G’mornin’ to Rayner, fiddling with the hose at the connection to the carbonator and the switches across it. He shoots you a nod and the same sleepy sentiment, heading into the kitchen before strolling back out for an apron. Between the carbonator clanking to life against the tile and Rayner’s query, you don’t hear the door open again.

“Aah, I dunno, I put the laundry in the chute last night, did we not get the shipment of new linens ye-“ A loud, smarting swat to your rump sends the back of your head up against the underside of the counter, pulling a cry from your lips. All ready hissing like cobra through the clench of your jaw, Guy’s stifled laughter and passing apology only raise your hackles all the higher. You snatch a beer glass to hurl it at him when Kyle grabs your arm. His eyes are on Guy, however.

“Whoa, come on, Guy.”

“Hey,” He shrugged “If I’d thought she’d knock herself out and leave us with a lunch crowd I woulda just given her a pizza cutter up her crack or something. Besides, she’s a tough cookie, I bet she’s not even dizzy from the whack to her head.” He pops his collar at that, his Cheshire grin stretching wide. The very notion of the act and vulgarity make your eye twitch, the kiss from last night suddenly very bitter, even when he gives the slightly backhanded compliment. Kyle apologizes for him but the way you simply nod and give the lump a passing rub before going back to work keeps him from asking if you’re all right.

“He’s been getting on your nerves lately, huh?”

“Mh, I can deal, don’t worry.” You polish the fingerprints off the glass with a leftover clean rag before seeking the missing linen with Raynor. He gives you the occasional side glance, but lets the confrontation go. The day passes in similar stop-and-go traffic, until the crowd dies down to a small handful of customers, all of them already served and dining. The boredom leaves you chatting with a few, until several customers leave the baskets wanting pretzels. Rayner’s already out front with nothing to do, so you dip back to the store room.

Though Guy following you doesn’t surprise you, the immediate embrace and the kiss to your neck do, his arms snug around your ribs, just under your breasts. You feel his breath washing over your ear as he kisses it, murmuring low regardless of the closed door.

“Your head okay?” That surprises you most of all, breaking the haze enough to glance back at him. You hum affirmatively after a moment, but your turning to look at him just lets him dip you back into a kiss. His fingers avoid the back of your head in their wanderings, the other hand already roving up your leg. A moment later his tongue is drifting behind your ear a moment, then his lips close over your earlobe. You lose focus, especially when a hand drifts from your neck to the curve of your backside, testing how heartily he could squeeze before you tensed up.

“What? You have a nice ass.” The brazen compliment makes you squirm a little, but a stark, harder kiss stills you once more. Suddenly your back is denting a cardboard box of napkins, his leg pressing between your own. Guy smirks down at you, using the height difference to his full advantage. He savors a kiss to the lowest point of your shirt’s neckline, the hand on your breast drawing a startled gasp of his name and a yank of his hand.

“H-hey, we… what if there’s a small rush, I… Nff…” He replaced the hand lower, his palms circling slowly.

“Kyle’ll be fine. Can’t snipe so much with me doing this, huh?” The smugness in his voice carries through to the roll of his leg against your crotch. Muffling a startled sound, you manage a heavy glare up at him.

“I can fix that,” You growl, even if it does feel too damn nice. “Wanna breathe through your forehead? Give you some use of your cranium, at least.” He snickers, catching the waver in your voice when he rubs against you once more.

“Ha, ha, very funny. Actually I’m using it right now.”

“A-goddamn-stounding, how so? Not thinking with the other head.” You manage, to spite a slight quaver as he kisses your neck again. He murmurs there, his thumb tracing a nipple through your shirt.
“Heh... Hell yeah I am... But I’m using the top one to imagine what you taste like. I think I’ll test my theory.”

“Wh-what?” He’s already unbuttoning your pants, watching you squirm in amusement. “Oh Jesus… Guy, we can’t... Nnot in here, there’s food…” His hand easing your breast free under the shirt as his wrist forces the fabric up, mouth closing over the nipple he’d teased to render you speechless. You feel like smacking that grin off his face.

“S’fine long as you stand up. Or I could fuck you on the crate that’s gonna get broken down. Ow! What was that for?” You want to cross your eyes in frustration, but now he’s kissing you into the box with his hands are hooking in your belt loops, and suddenly it’s a lot harder to shove him away when he lifts you into a deeper kiss. He hums appreciatively his palm skiving down below your navel to ease his fingers past your underwear, still kissing you breathless as he slides his fingers easily across your entrance. When wetness already clings to his fingers, he smirks, his eyes hooding as the kiss broke. He pulled his hand free as you made the mostly empty box collapse back, smearing the film between his fingers before sliding his tongue between them. The wicked grin curling at his mouth just twists all the more with your expression.

He drags your shirt up, his mouth sucking harder a moment before he sinks to his knees, watching you steel yourself, watching you swallow the trepidation in a dry and near soundless gulp. Dragging the garments away, Guy slid his tongue down the line of your thigh, taunting you as your eyes met. Keeping his eyes on you, he flattens his tongue against your clit, your own fingers suddenly clamping over your mouth. You can’t seem to look away just yet, even as he makes a shudder crawl up your back with the wagging of his tongue. He inches two fingers inside, and you’re unable to completely muffle the gasp that filters between your fingers. Somehow you know he wants to grin, instead he favors curling his fingers just to make you lean your head back, your mouth open behind the net of your hand. With a sudden suction, he makes your legs weaken a moment, your other hand thrown out to the wall to keep from falling. A gentle squeeze on your hip tells you he’d catch you at the very least, but he’s less concerned with that and more concerned with the fact that he’s got your back arching and your eyes fixated on him.

He rolls his tongue, making you wonder how many times he’d done this, until his fingers pressed deeper inside you. The sounds he’s pulling from your throat prompt his own vocal response, his eyes closing as his relentless caresses put one of your hands in his hair.

You keep your other arm braced on the wall, breath shuddering louder now with his efforts doubled, no more self imposed muting, and no mercy predicted. Pulling back with a grin, he slides a third finger inside. The pit of your stomach clenches, his thumb working beneath your hood to keep stimulating the bud of nerves there. His zipper rattles, but he offers you little more than a hum against the skin of your thigh when your lips clatter out with his name on the tail of a gasp. Stealing a glance up, he strokes himself with the fingers that had been inside you just a moment ago. When you move to steady yourself, he laughs and tugs behind your knee, making you land on his folded legs. Lifting your hips, Guy murmurs into your ear, his tongue chasing the words.

“Gimmie a hand, huh?” When you finally manage to reach between the two of you, he smiles against your neck. Biting softly, quieting a moan against your skin with the slow press of his cockhead to your entrance and your fingers brushing the sides of his length, Guy leaned up and forward. The full crate against your back and he drove in to the hilt. Entrapping you in his arms, he didn't hesitate, already drawing back to press you against the cheap alien timber. Your shirt scrunched up against your collar bone, he thumbed your nipple, closing his eyes with the even, shallow thrusts. Guy stifles your gasps with his mouth, your fingers digging into his back when he reels back for a harder thrust. The cry that he jerks from you makes him grin, but he hushes you softly, his hand sealing over mouth. He bites your ear, savoring your hand in his hair and the muffled whimper he feels more than hears. Guy starts whispering into your ear, encouraging you to touch yourself as he starts railing you into the box. Lifting you by your ass to change the angle, you bury your face in his neck to keep from crying out. His fingers are still slightly damp and tacky from fingering you earlier, but he knows that’s not quite enough for what he had in mind. Leaning back to watch you gasp; he forces his digits past your lips. The taste of sex on your tongue made you arch, but his the gleam in his eyes that made you shiver.

Aaaand that's as far as I got. Sorry for the tense changing and crap.