Work Text:
The Seventh Cue was June's favourite place in New York. After a long day at work, in which every nondescript white guy earned the accolades June deserved, in which she had to be meek and quiet lest company culture paint her a bitch and deprive her of any chances of upwards movement, here she could blow off steam. Sure, the place didn't stop the nondescript white guys from underestimating her, but she could turn that to her advantage.
"On the prowl tonight?" Vanessa, the bartender, asked, after one look at June's face. June winced at the description; it made her feel too much as if she were on the hunt for a victim, while this was just a game she was playing. A game might have losers - and oh boy, would there be one tonight - but never victims. Not that she called them losers, either; even in her own head that sounded too cruel. She'd decided on opponents, but Vanessa had never gotten that memo.
"It is one of those days," she confirmed, long since having given up on correcting Vanessa. She turned around to survey the room. The Seventh Cue was the kind of pub tourists would flock to 'to do New York like the New Yorkers', which meant it worked hard to keep that New York feel without actually attracting that many New Yorkers. It also meant its clientele was very transient, which was perfect for June's purposes. There were a few regulars, of course - she could see David playing at one of the pool tables, and in the back, at his favourite table, was Marc. Marc was one of those guys who'd begged June to play with them when she'd first started coming here, and they had no idea yet of what she could do. Marc was also one of the guys June had refused to play; with his skill level, she wouldn't even have to try, and she could only justify doing what she did if her opponents would have had a chance, if they weren't too busy underestimating her.
The other pool tables were empty yet and June settled in at a table near the wall, where she had a good view of both the door and the pool tables. She nursed her gin and brought her focus to her shoulders, asking them politely to relax. It had been a trying day - overlooked for a promotion, again, for someone who'd been at the company not even half the time June had been and had not worked even a quarter as hard for it - and she desperately needed a distraction.
The door opened and June almost did a victory dance in her chair, but restrained herself to sitting up straighter. Minor celebrities were perfect, especially when they came with female company. Men with everything to prove were the most likely to take her up on her offer of a bet and to widely underestimate her. James Van Der Beek might still be a star in June's mind (she allowed herself one wistful sigh in remembrance of nights of swooning over Dawson), but he definitely wasn't one anymore to the public.
To her delight, not ten minutes later one of the tourists in the room challenged him to a game of pool and he was not bad. June watched as the game dwindled to an end, then walked up to the table.
"Could I try?" she asked James (James!), satisfied her voice came out just the way it needed to, the meek, quiet version of her normal voice. No squeaking, no show of the excitement she refused to acknowledge she was feeling right now.
He looked her over, once, twice, and she could already hear his dismissal. The key to her game was estimating what would get a guy worked up faster; getting the chance to teach her or getting the chance to beat her. The more arrogant, the harder she'd lean on boasting of her skills, on challenging them from the get-to. James hadn't seemed the type, but maybe she'd been guided more by her childhood crush on Dawson than she should have been.
Instead of telling June to get lost, though, James waved someone over from behind her.
"I'm all played out," he said. "But I'm sure Chloe would love to help you."
The two of them shared a smirk June easily recognised, though it didn't tell her what kind of game they were playing. A little thrill ran through her at the idea of getting an actual challenge; it had been so long since she'd been able to utilise her skills to the fullest.
She reached out to shake the woman's hand, but Chloe just raised an eyebrow at her. "You any good?"
June shrugged, not sure how to answer that one. She hadn't paid any attention to the woman on James' arm, assuming her to be just arm candy, and she was kicking herself for being just as misogynistic as her colleagues. If she were to lose this, it'd be her own fault.
Chloe set up the table and got ready to break. Just before she hit the triangle of balls, though, she stood up straight again. "Let me show you," she said, and just like that, she tipped her hand.
June had to stifle a giggle as she stepped into Chloe's personal space. She took up the woman's cue, carefully holding it wrong, making it seem like it was the first time she held one, and breathed in deep as Chloe turned her towards the table, pressing her body against June's.
"You need to hit the head ball," Chloe whispered in June's ear. She reached her left hand past June's body, laying it down on the table in the form of a bridge. Her right hand took up the cue, and with both of her arms around June, it felt like a hug, the warmth seeping into June's pores.
"You try."
June let out a shivering sigh, not even attempting to hold it in. It was only to her advantage to make Chloe think her game was working. She awkwardly brought the cue to rest on Chloe's bridge and hit the ball at an angle. It bounced off towards the side, the triangle untouched, not even a little tremble to show the cue ball had gone past it.
She looked to Chloe, shrugging a little. "Maybe you can show me how it's done?"
Chloe took the cue and got ready. As surreptitiously as possible, June surveyed her form. She definitely had played before, and June sighed a little sigh of relief. She didn't mind joining in Chloe's game - in fact, her body was relishing the contact, something she'd gone without for quite a while now - but she had been looking forward to taking home a true victory.
She let Chloe teach her some basic moves. Every time Chloe showed her how to form a bridge or how to position her legs just right, June shivered (if only she were that good of an actor; she didn't have to fake any of it, just had to turn-off her instinctual suppression system). Some of her off-centre shots hadn't even been deliberate, Chloe's energy throwing her off her game.
After the first game, they played a second, June being careful to show some progress without bringing out any of her true technical prowess.
"Let's make this interesting," she said after their second round.
"A bet?" Chloe asked, raising her eyebrows.
"Isn't that how it's done?" June leaned into the accent she'd grown up with. While she and Chloe hadn't talked much, it was very obvious the woman saw herself as the true New Yorker and June as some sort of lesser human being.
"Sure," Chloe shrugged.
"Why play for money, though?" James, who had been following along with their game, handed Chloe another of the cocktails she'd been drinking. "If you really want to make this interesting, there are far better options."
Chloe raised an eyebrow at June, who simply shrugged. The money wasn't the point of her game; winning was. "Any ideas?"
"If I win ... " Chloe mused. June didn't buy her act for one second. Either she and James had done this before, or they were just on the same wavelength, but there was no way Chloe didn't already have a prize in mind. "I win, you and I kiss. You win, you get to kiss Dawson here."
June laughed a little incredulously, looking from Chloe to James, who just shrugged. She shook her head.
"I'm not actually sixteen anymore and I do know the difference between James Van Der Beek and Dawson Leery. And I have no interest at all in kissing James."
"No offense," she added as an afterthought to James, who waved her away.
Chloe all but stamped her feet and somehow made it seem adorable. How did she do that? "Then what do you want?" she asked.
June had to think on that for a while. What she wanted, of course, was to win - and though the prize itself didn't matter, causing her opponent to give up something they coveted, whether it was money or something else, definitely did make the win sweeter. It wasn't about playing pool; it was about showing people that underestimating someone would backfire and that June was not to be trifled with. Question was, what did someone who moved like she owned the world have trouble giving up?
When June did finally think of her answer, it seemed painfully obvious.
"I win, you apologise to Vanessa for ordering cocktails that aren't even on the menu."
"Who?"
June sighed, and nodded towards the bar. "The bartender," she said.
"How do you even know her name?"
"I asked. Because I'm a polite person."
Chloe rolled her eyes. "Of course you did."
When Chloe didn't say anything else, June asked: "Well?"
"I'm not going to apologise to some loser who has to serve other people to earn money!" Chloe said, looking to James for back-up. "That's insane."
"You only just taught her how to play," James very reasonably pointed out, and June took a sip from her gin to hide the triumphant smile. She hadn't even had to bring it up herself. "You truly don't have anything to lose. And she does look very kissable."
"I'm right here," June said, choosing - again - to ignore the happy dance little June was doing in her head at being looked at like that by James Van Der Beek.
"That she does," Chloe sighed. "Okay, fine. I win, we kiss. You win, I - ugh. I apologise."
June let Chloe set up the table and they tossed a coin to decide who got to break. The familiar fluttering of the final stetch of the game started in June's limbs and she let it take over. She'd usually play one of the actual games to lose, but she was too invested in this particular bet to throw the game. Besides, she could tell Chloe's interest was waning and she doubted another game would be in the cards even if she lost.
Her break went as well as expected - no balls in the pockets, but that was actually better, that would make the shock even sweeter - and the cue ball ended up at the centre. June didn't look up; at this stage of the game, she needed her full focus to pull it off. She surveyed the table, taking her time. The sounds of the pub faded away as June looked over her options and did some fast and quick simulations in her mind.
She sunk the 11-ball, followed by the 12-ball, decided on some right spin for the 10-ball. A gasp broke through her concentration, and she took a little pause to resurvey the table. The 13-ball and 9-ball followed. Getting from 15 to 14 was a bit tough, but she managed, and the 14-ball became an easy shot. She took one final deep breath, called the upper right pocket and neatly dropped the 8-ball into it.
She was jostled by someone jumping on her back before she had fully processed the win. She instinctually moved to throw her assailant off, but Chloe just moved with her, and that's when June realised she wasn't being attacked, Chloe had just glomped on to her. With the way Chloe had been riling her up the whole evening, June's body was not even remotely protesting. Instead of continuing to try and throw her off, she held on to Chloe's thighs.
"That was amazing!" Chloe shouted in her ear. "I thought I was playing you and you were playing me the whole time!"
She jumped off and held out a hand for June to shake. "I'm keeping you," she announced and she poked James with her elbow. "We're keeping her."
June raised an eyebrow and stepped into Chloe's personal space. "Actually," she said. "What you are going to do, is walk up to the bar and apologise to Vanessa for being the kind of person who believes everyone should dance to your whims."
"Ugh, fine," Chloe said, and made to stomp off.
June pulled her back by the elbow, her victory emboldening her. "And then," she said, dropping her eyes to Chloe's lips, "we'll play your game. There's no reason we can't both be winners today."