It was only a kiss...

Kissing was something decidedly important in a relationship, no matter how big or small, frantic or relaxed, important or not- it had to be done. Preferably by the second or third date - if not the first, depending on chemistry. So far, in Greg and Clover's relationship, it hadn't happened yet, although they were practically exploding with chemistry. They were now onto date number five: Nada. Sure, Greg could crack all the jokes he could think of, Clover could smile, laugh at him, hug him, whatever, but lips were fated never to touch. Greg walked her to her door, leant in, only to find her torso pushed up against his and her arms around him. Now, this wasn't something he could complain about...he loved it, really. But he definitely wanted something else, and he was beginning to wonder whether or not Clover actually liked him, found him attractive, or even pondered about kissing him.

It was hopeless. Utterly, incomprehensibly, ridiculously hopeless. And worrying. Now, they were sitting next to each other in the cinema, Clover resting her head on Greg's shoulder, sighing contentedly. Whilst that was very nice, and rather comforting, Greg just wanted that extra dash of intimacy. All he had to do was catch Clover by surprise. That was it. The rest of his viewing experience was spent trying to concoct a cunning plan. And then he had it. He put an arm around Clover's shoulders and pulled her closer to him. She glanced up and grinned at him, returning back to the screen a few seconds later.

Now, Greg Sanders was a secure man, by Jove, he was, but this was unsettling. He thoroughly adored Clover, the ground she walked on and he thought she was better than sliced bread.

And so, after leaving the cinema, Greg decided to play it cool. They chatted, Clover got out of the car, winked at Greg and sauntered over to her door, not letting Greg see her grinning foolishly to herself. Again, Greg felt as though he'd been punched in the gut.

About two nights later, they were settled neatly beside one another on Clover's sofa, watching the TV, one head rested against the other's chest, when Greg couldn't take any more of this mindless torture. Clover was clad in a plain, white tank top with spaghetti straps that made the occasional appearance from under her red cardigan, and a pair of oversized jeans, her reddish hair pulled into a clip, not a sign of makeup on her face. She sighed, yawned, reached over for the remote - all while doing it elegantly and managing to stay effortlessly attractive. Her shoulder came into brief contact with his forearm and suddenly he snapped.

"Do you hate me?" He pushed her forward slightly and turned to face her. She furrowed her eyebrows at the movement, but quickly crossed her legs and stared Greg in the eyes, all the while smiling amusedly. He'd been strangely quiet for the last half an hour or so, which was unnatural. Clover rolled up the sleeves on her cardigan and shook a stray lock of her out of her face.

"Of course I don't hate you. I really like you, actually, otherwise I wouldn't let you put your feet on my table." This was a lie. She had never been bothered by people having their feet up on her table. Clover sat back and let her eyes rest on those few small freckles on his cheek. A girl could easily be won over by those freckles, and those freckles alone.

Greg had been fighting this colossal war in his head for days...his bottle couldn't crash now. He glanced around the room, swallowed and then dared a look at Clover. "Then why can't I kiss you?"

Clover grinned and folded her arms, a minuscule laugh escaping her ample lips. "Ohh, I get it. My little plan finally worked, huh?"

Greg turned deadly serious. "What plan?"

"The plan where I see just how forward you are. See, in the months I've known you, I always thought you were confident, cocky and egregiously full of bravado, which I really loved about you. But," She smirked, glad that she'd somehow inveigled the word 'love' - as opposed to plain old 'like' - into the conversation. "I wondered just how long it would take...for you to make the first move...and then I concocted a way to make you wait; if I kinda pulled away when you put your arm around me then I figured that maybe that would put paid to your, ah, intentions. I thought I wouldn't have been able to hold back from kissing you, and I know I'm probably not the most irresistible, but I didn't think you would do as well as this. Congratulations. Nearly two weeks." She extended her hand in a mock-handshake. Greg wasn't sure what to do. He stared at her hand and tilted his head to the side.

For the first time in his twenty-six years, he was stumped. For one thing, he admired Clover for being such a smart-ass, and he was also confused as to why he had held back for so long, even though Clover and her lips had plagued his thoughts constantly. This, he decided, was a strange feeling. He took Clover's hand and grinned. "You...tricked me. But I'm...not...sure...what to say...I guess I'm speechless." He glanced down at her and his expression immediately changed. It went from one of mild confusion and disbelief to one of unabashed affection. Clover almost melted against the sofa. "So...can I kiss you now?"

Clover made a move towards him, placed her hand on his cheek and bit her lower lip. "Mm...no." She should see Greg about to question her, so she immediately bolted up from the sofa and bounded over to the other end of the room. "Cause you'll have to get to me first." Such a childish, yet effective way of annoying someone. She ran out of the room, into several other rooms until a few minutes later, which found Greg and Clover in the kitchen, each on opposite sides of the island. Clover noticed that she seemed to have forgotten the correct way to breathe. "Ready to give up yet?"

"Nuh-uh." Greg suppressed a smile, equally as out-of-breath as Clover. "You?"

"For a kiss? No way." She pulled her cardigan off and flung it onto the counter. Before Greg knew it, she was on her way down the short, brightly-coloured hall. Greg flew after her and eventually caught her in the bathroom, sitting on the bath. He sighed, heftily, and shut the door behind him. "You found me."

"That I did." Oh, God, he sounded like a pirate. Clover laughed and scooted closer to the wall. She was still adamant that Greg would wait. He, however, had other plans. He stepped right in front of her and pulled her up, that serious, love-filled look creeping back into his eyes. Clover really loved that look. Instantly, a hand was placed on her hip while the other brushed a strand of hair out of her face.

"Mm, Greg- wait." Her hand instinctively went to his hand, trying to halt any further actions.

"Clover, I can't." Greg stated, firmly, yet his smile told a completely different story.

"No, I mean...we can't do this in the bathroom..." Much as she wanted him to kiss her, she wasn't sure she wanted it to happen in her bathroom, filled with all manner of hideous things; three year old loofahs, several unusable toothbrushes, countless empty toothpaste packets, millions of bottles of shampoo, conditioner and gel, or mousse. Everything else that could be labelled embarrassing - or grotesque - was hidden away in a cabinet.

"Why not?"

"Because! There's germs...stuff..." She shivered as Greg's hands expertly made their way to her shoulder blades.

"I don't care about the germs...or the stuff." He genuinely didn't; all he cared about was Clover's lips and his lips getting together as soon as they possibly could.

"Then do it. Kiss me." Clover bit her lip as Greg took on an entirely different expression. It was one of desire, lust, all things unholy. Clover liked that look, too.

In what seemed like an eternity, Greg finally brought a hand up to her neck and leant down, capturing his lips with Clover's, connecting and entwining the two of them gently. Clover felt her mind go completely blank, her knees beginning to shake and her arms tangling themselves around Greg's neck while his hands moved to either side of her waist, tentatively. Electricity surged through her, rendering her thoroughly useless. She no longer gave a damn about being in the bathroom, nor about the fact that she was being pressed into the toilet roll holder. Everything felt great - she felt fantastic. After a few seconds, Greg pulled his lips away from hers and swiftly shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Whoa." Was all he could think to say.

"Mm." Clover brought her index finger up to rub the corner of her mouth as she fought off a large smile.

"So...was I worth it?" Greg tilted his head to the side and leant against the wall.

Clover was shocked. Un-believable. How could he be so cocky after...well, after that monumentally epic kiss? "I...well...maybe." She grinned. "Was I?"

"Oh, yeah." Greg took her again by the waist and kissed her again before he led her out of the bathroom. "Now, I bet you're wishing you hadn't put that off for two weeks..."

And it was the truth.

A/N: Pointless drabble, which I adore. Thanks to all who reviewed! I love feedback :D

I really do quite like this chapter, actually...and, seeing as it was my birthday yesterday, please could I have some reviews???

Have a great rest of the day,

Mary-Lou

PS: Only three days to the US Election :O