The living room was buzzing with laughter, music, and the faint smell of spilled vodka. You and Yelena had both agreed to join the little party, but truthfully, you’d been keeping a close eye on each other all night, teasing under the radar.

“Okay, spin the bottle,” someone shouted, and everyone cheered. The bottle twirled lazily on the hardwood floor before pointing directly at you.

Your stomach did a little flip when you saw Yelena smirk, the bottle now spinning and landing perfectly on her. She winked, striding over confidently. “Looks like it’s us,” she said, voice low and teasing.

You swallowed, heart hammering. “Guess so.”

She held your hand, guiding you toward the small, dimly lit closet off the side of the room. The moment the door clicked shut, the outside world vanished. The smell of her perfume mixed with the faint vodka scent from earlier, and you felt your knees go weak.

“Do you know how long we have?” she murmured, voice teasing but with a soft edge. “Seven minutes. I hope you’re ready.”

You laughed nervously, leaning against the wall. “I think I can manage.”

Yelena stepped closer, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “Just remember,” she whispered, “I get the first move.”

Before you could respond, her lips were on yours, soft but insistent, teasing, tasting faintly of vodka and something uniquely her. You melted into the kiss, hands hesitating before slowly sliding up to her shoulders.

She pulled back just slightly, smirk tugging at her lips. “You taste like trouble… and vodka,” she said, voice low, teasing, and your heart skipped a beat.

“Maybe I am,” you whispered back, grinning.

Her laugh was soft but full of mischief as she leaned in again, pressing her forehead against yours. “Good,” she murmured. “I like a little chaos.”