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[theshabbiestofmen]

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[theshabbiestofmen]

[He takes a breath-- and then pouts up at her, catching on a moment too late.]

You're making fun of me.

[Bu-ut he quite likes that firm pressure, and shivers a little as he feels it.]

Things like-- like letting me work off your jumpsuit a bit, for starters.

[darkholme]

[ she shakes her head at that first accusation, lips pressing shut to hide the fact that her smile is only getting bigger. but nope, see, she's being nice. she's rubbing circles into the backs of his shoulders, totally behaving. ]

You're right, we.. haven't done anything quite like that yet.

[ besides that one time, but really she shifted out of her jumpsuit herself, sooo ]

[theshabbiestofmen]

Well, it's-- it's-- there you go, then.

[He shivers again, his shoulders rising to press against her hands happily.]

Look, I'm terrible at these sorts of things--

[darkholme]

You're perfectly fine. [ she leans in to give him a kiss on the cheek, slides her hands inward a little more before rubbing again. ] I'm not even sure I know what you're talking about. What are you terrible at?

[theshabbiestofmen]

Talking in a way that isn't completely awkward.

[darkholme]

[ she doesn't mean to laugh ]

Oh, stop. You're fine. I don't think there's anything you could say to me that would make things awkward.

[ ... ]

Okay, two things. There are a total of two things that could potentially make this awkward, but you'd never say them. So you're alright.

[theshabbiestofmen]

Well, now I'm curious as to what they are, you can't just say that.

[But at least he's smiling now.]

[darkholme]

I definitely can, and I won't be spilling. Because that would be awkward.

[ duh. ]

[theshabbiestofmen]

Are you rolling your eyes at me!

[darkholme]

No.

[ yes. ]

I'd never!

[theshabbiestofmen]

You are! What sort of girl are you!

[darkholme]

The kind of girl that doesn't like bringing up awkward things because it would be awkward and I like things just they way they are, very non-awkward and fun. Is that really so terrible? [ quietly tiptoeing past the eyerolling fact and kissing him again instead, because clearly that makes everything okay again ]

[theshabbiestofmen]

[He has a retort all set up, but then she's kissing him and of course he can't ignore that-- and so he has to kiss her back, eagerly, his hips rolling up eagerly--]

[darkholme]

[ aha friction. Raven wiggles down into the movement, simple as that, even though it ends up making her sort of gasp against his mouth and squeeze her eyes shut. badbadbad. well, goodgoodgood, but badbadbad for her self control. she sinks her teeth into his lip, because she can't bite her own when she's still kissing him. controlcontrolcontrol. ]

[theshabbiestofmen]

[He ends up letting out a little moan, his hips rolling up again-- yeah, that's good, just like that, and he thinks that maybe this isn't so hard, maybe he can do this--]

[darkholme]

[ maybe he can drive her crazy, yeah, absolutely. he's on the right track. going for the gold there. her knees tighten against his hips, hands sliding in to hold his face like she needs all this contact right now or she'll combust. literally explode! but in a good way. because the way she's kissing him isn't needy-rough, but needy-playful, which are two very different things. because one is bitey and harsh and taketaketake, but this is more subdued, little things just to test the waters and see what's okay and what's too much. she refuses to roll her hips against his at any kind of pace that can be tracked, sure that with rhythm comes a- well, it builds up, doesn't it? constant friction. she can't handle that right now. so she keeps her body steady over his, encouraging friction without pressing for more. she's too focused on kissing him anyway]

[theshabbiestofmen]

[He returns the kiss eagerly, his own neediness less playful and more desperate-- god, but he's addicted to the taste of her, he really is. His hands wander down her body, teasing along her back, her hips, as he pushes his own up again--]

[darkholme]

[ for a while, it's perfect. it's not too much or too little, too fast or too slow. it's just, you know, normal. not to be confused with boring or ordinary, nono, it's normal in that she's not worried about anything, not thinking about what's going on around the rest of the ship. it's just kissing, necking, snogging, whatever they want to call it.

although, as a normal girl with normal urges, the way he's moving with her, where his hands roam, it makes her think about different things in great detail. mainly, what this would be like if they weren't wearing their jumpsuits. which, again, is normal, she's sure. the only problem is that for her? thinking about what she wears usually results in her actually wearing it. luckily she catches herself before she manages to shift, but she breaks the kiss with a sort of gasp, a laugh and a quick shake of her head ]

Okay, okay, okayokay. Just need a breather. For a second, just a second.

[theshabbiestofmen]

Yeah--

[He pants up at her, his hands lingering on her hips, his eyes trained on her face. Her lips are a little swollen and darker, and he likes that; he likes it almost as much as he likes the flush on her cheeks, the way her skin has gone a darker blue--]

God. Yeah. You look-- god, you look amazing.

[darkholme]

[ she ends up laughing and shushushing him, because saying stuff like that only makes her blush more, makes it harder to stop kissing him. but instead her face scrunches up as she touches her forehead to his, then finally settles back in his lap more ..suitably, hands dropping to hold onto his arms instead of his face because that way she can't pull him in for another kiss right away. rightright. ]

I should probably not be sitting on your lap if we're expecting to accomplish anything other than kissing all night. [ sort of an absent thought, even though she's grinning. ] Oh, oh, I know. [ she shifts sideways so she's sitting on the bed now, scooting over a little bit. ] Turn around? So I can rub your back. And we can talk. Do it, do it. I insist. [ nudgenudgenudge ]

[theshabbiestofmen]

[He moves at Raven's nudging, shifting until he's in front of her.]

Tell me when you get tired, we can switch.

[He tilts his head forward, easing into this.]

What-- ah-- what do you want to talk about?

[darkholme]

I don't really get tired too easily, so. M'pretty sure I could go at it all night if I wanted to. [ Yeah, she's just being a jerk now.

but she's getting comfy behind him, one of her legs tucked under her while the other stretches out alongside his, and she pulls him back, encouraging to lean back against her while she starts to rub his shoulders again ] We.. were talking about going home, right?

[theshabbiestofmen]

Mm. Yes.

[Hesitantly at first, he leans against her. She's stronger than he expects-- but god, her hands feel good, and he lets out a happy little noise as she moves.]

On . . . on whether it would be good to. On time passing. Things like that.

[A beat. Honestly:]

Do you want to go home?

[darkholme]

[ she probably answers this too quickly; ] No, I don't.

[ she knows she answered too fast because it startles her a little bit, considering she's gone home once already, considering how long it's been, how much things have changed. how much she's changed. but maybe that's just it. ]

A part of me misses the control I had back home, over my own life and where I could go, who I could meet. Here that freedom is a little, um. Squashed. But. I feel like I've been here for so long that going back to that life would just be a huge step backwards. And things aren't good there, I don't have the kinds of friends I've made here, I don't have the same confidence or training or any of it. I honestly felt really lost, last time I was home. And it only felt worse once I got back here. I forgot.. everything.

[ she stops just to rest her chin against his shoulder as her hands move out to rub further out towards his arms, then she tucks her face against his neck, trying to hide her frown. ]

I don't like the idea of forgetting this place.

[theshabbiestofmen]

[He twists, nosing against her a little, his arms coming back so he can thread their fingers together.]

Nor do I. Nor the people I've met here. I've . . . become someone entirely different. Someone better, I think.