Dick owed you. That’s the only reason he let you back him against the wall, your phone already in your hand. You hit record and the song started, panning to you in your black dress and red lipstick as you lip-synced, “Baby, I…”

You slid the camera view over to him, where a trail of red kiss marks all over his jaw, his cheeks, even the corner of his collar was shown as he sang, “Buss down, Tatiana, buss down, Tatiana…”

His eyes never leaving your face, his grin breaking through when you hit “Lost my mind…”

“Break it up, now break that shit down,” he echoed, collar of his blue dress shirt hanging open to his collarbones, the picture of someone who’d been completely ambushed by your game but was secretly loving every second.

The music cut off. TikTok saved and posted. You giggled, stepped closer, and pressed your lips to his once the video was done — a final kiss mark sealing your victory.