How's Life? [iCarly Spencer Shay X Reader] [COMPLETED]

All It Took Was A Wine Stain

It was Halloween, the spookiest time of the year, apparently - though, looking around the room, it's probably the only acceptable time of the year that pretentious art snobs are allowed to get publicly drunk and make absolute twits of themselves.

I sigh and head to the snacks table, narrowly avoiding a couple that were very nearly fated to end up in someone else's bed smushing something ~other~ than their lips together. I take a Solo cup and fill it with punch, and as I raise the cup to my lips something suddenly crashed into my back and the cup fell and spilled the contents all over me!

I spin around, fuming. Behind me are two men, one with floppy brown hair and the other wearing a ridiculous jacket that looks like it was made out of socks for some reason. I didn't care: I had just had alcohol spilt over my one nice shirt and I was about to take prisoners.
"Hey! What the Hell was that about?!" I yell over the music. At least both men managed to look guilty, and one of them even takes off his appropriately warm jacket and offers it to me. I take it, scowling.

"I'm really sorry," the man who offered me his jacket says, "my friend Socko was messing about, you see he's not used to crowds and we were just getting some punch and so we had the idea of playing punch-"
I hold a hand in a stopping motion in his face. "Stop. I don't wanna hear it. Just lead me to the nearest restroom so I can clean myself up, it's my first time at this exhibition and I don't know where everything is."
"Oh, uhh... yeah, uh, sorry," the jacket man replies, and offers me a hand to lead me to the restroom. I hesitate, just to make him more nervous - he did make me spill my drink down myself after all - and take his hand. He smiles briefly, and gives an apologetic shrug to his friend.
"Whatever. I'll be next to your sculpture showing it off then," he pats him on the shoulder and disperses into the crowd. The man tugs lightly on my hand signalling to follow and I do, still slightly doubting if I should follow this stranger.

We pad carefully through the mass of coworkers drinking and making an exhibition of themselves, and to make some conversation as I was getting more and more awkward, "So, you have a sculpture here?"
"Yeah," he replies, sounding proud of himself, "I'm a sculptur professional, this is my main exhibition. Although," he scans the room with a slight grimace, "last time I made a model for here I don't remember it being quite so... shall we say, non-snobby?"
I laugh a little and he smiles again, showing off his round of white teeth. "Yeah, well, Halloween is the only night of the year these boring drones get a free pass to not be dicks." Not to mention I was professionally supposed to BE one of those dicks. But he soon asks:
"So what are you doing at this party? Is your boyfriend a boring drone?"

I reply a little sheepishly, "No. I am actually one of those boring drones, but unlike them I have no boyfriend and I have a life outside of my job."

Right before he opens the door to the unisex restroom to clean up, I swear he smiles to himself.

I step into the restroom and immediately I get the vibe of 'I'm posh and I know it.' I gaze in awe at the marble tiles and the small chandelier twinkling from the ceiling, and slowly brush over the glass taps. Turns out they're very sensitive as the cold tap spurts to life and abruptly splashes down my shirt, spoiling it AGAIN as well as soaking some of the man's jacket. I groan in frustration and I hear a laugh behind me, and turn and watch his mouth shut guiltily.
"Shut up. You've done enough trouble."

"I'm so sorry," he can barely contain his laughter, "it's just that you have such bad luck, don't you?"

Bad luck eh? I think as I shrug off his jacket and unbutton my shirt, not actually thinking apart from satisfaction at how uncomfortable he now looks and deviousness at what I was about to do.
"Well what a shame you haven't, because then I couldn't do THIS!" I jump back and turn the tap at full throttle toward him, and he yells as the water hits him directly and soaks through his own white shirt. I laugh loudly at his shock, and he look down at himself.

"This was my only good shirt!" He whisper-shouts, rather ironically for someone who had just done the same to me - and promptly starts unbuttoning his shirt and peeling it off to start flapping it over the sink that he suddenly appears at like a ninja. I take my hand off the tap and step back, shaking my head. "How did you get there? And you did the same to me, it was only fair," I point out. I think I was sounding matter of fact about the whole thing, but to be honest I was kind of only looking at his torso. His middle was nothing special, I could tell he didn't go to the gym or anything, but his back was kinda lean and naturally toned and his arm muscles leaped about under his smooth-looking skin as he squeezed the fabric with his wet locks swinging in front of his face. Wait, stop - why am I noting the handsome physique of a stranger? Stop it Y/N; you are not that kind of girl. You came here to try and get some work done.

But as he straightems up and I see his eyes widen at the sight of my still wet shirt hanging on my naked skin and bra that I had promptly forgotten about, I couldn't help but BE that kind of girl. Just for this one guy. No harm in that.

The guy was still staring at me, eyebrows raised. He gestures to the sink, and I actually remember that us two were in here to get the stain out of my shirt.
"Oh!" I say stupidly and rush to strip my shirt off myself and run it under the tap, using some fancy cut soap to try in vain to scrub the dark red stain off. Why did I ever think it was sensible to wear a white shirt to a Halloween party?!

I hear the guy clear his throat behind me. "My, uhm, my name's- oh I don't think you're gonna be able to get that stain out now, it's been sitting there without help for too long, I think you'd be better off sending it to a dry cleaner's. Works when my little sister's clothes get paint over them when I forget to tell her I'm painting in the apartment." I turn my head to him, and he's so close to me I can smell his aftershave: a hint of the ocean, making me think of wild pirates and the thrill of the seas.
"How do you, a man, know so much about washing? More than me?"
He shrugs, "I look after my little sister. I'm her legal guardian. She's around thirteen, fourteen, a little angel. You ever watched this webshow, 'iCarly'?"
I shake my head no and he continues with a glint in his eye, "well she and her friends film and star and produce it all by themselves and it's like this huge phenomenon at their school, everyone loves it. Yanno, I remember once-"

He doesn't get to finish however, as I suddenly from somewhere deep inside me place my hands on his cheeks and kiss him delicately. And, surprisingly, he starts kissing me back almost immediately. He starts light then gradually increases the pressure of his lips as I turn off the tap from somewhere beside me and we press our bodies closer together, the bare skin of our middles touching and still damp. What has gotten over me? I don't go around kissing strangers at parties. I don't even go to parties full stop!

My body overtakes my brain however, as when he starts brushing his soft hands through my hair I out of nowhere push him gently against a wall and begin exploring his torso. Although he doesn't work out he still has quite a nice body to feel, and it seems like he enjoys me finding that out as from my mouth he moans quietly and wraps an arm round my waist with the other still round my neck and buried in my hair. I smile against his lips at this enthusiasm and keep doing what I'm doing, though not going below the hips as I'm waiting for his signal that it's okay as he does the same with below my waist. Although I can tell he badly wants to something in him seems to disagree and he keeps cherishing what of the upper body he has of mine instead, and I don't mind and cherish the same of his.

In amongst the heated embrace he says, "I'm Spencer. What's your name?"
With panting breath I say, "Y/N. Call me your next date."