can_finish_them | Outside Milliways

Well, it is nice to have his attention. (Because clearly she wasn't getting enough attention from him already. Clearly.)

After a few moments she moves to sit down next to him on the bed, her mug cradled safely between her hands.

"Oh, and by the way," she says innocently, "Your shooting was very good, too."

Well, she did say she'd tell him later. And she is, of course, only talking about his talents with a gun. ~~Ignore the 'too'.~~

It's probably a good thing (at least for her bedding) that he's only staring at his tea rather than drinking it when she speaks.

Shooting? He's almost entirely forgotten what started this whole business, and he's about to take her comment as just innuendo when he remembers that he did, in fact, do some shooting during the evening before. And somehow that lead him here. He's still not entirely sure how.

"Um. Thank you?" It might be a question. His blush really, really isn't going away, though he is still smiling through it. He takes another swig of his tea and tries not to look too sheepish.

Only partly innuendo, thank you.

"Mmm, no." She smiles at him, but she does wait until he's swallowed his tea before her arm snakes out, gently turning his jaw to bring him just within range for a careful, lingering kiss.

"Thank you."

Call her crazy, but she suspects not many people have ever told Martin he's good at something.

Martin's ears actually look like they might be painful, they're so red. But honestly, there's a lot of pleasure mixed up in that embarrassment. Yeah, he's not used to being in this situation, he's not used to people fancying him and especially not used to people who follow through on that fancying, but he isn't entirely inexperienced, and he's pleased that (at least on the face of it) she had as much fun as he did.

Martin sinks into the kiss easily. He does try to keep in the back of his mind that he's holding a mug of tea, but that sort of thing doesn't matter as much as she does.

His expression is a little dazed coming out of the kiss, and then she says thank you, and it's morning and he's not even entirely sure why she's saying it, but there's really nothing left for it but to grin at her, squished morning face and bed hair and all.

Kaidy is definitely not wrong in her suspicions.

He ducks his head, still grinning, and takes another swig of tea. He thinks as he does so.

Kaidy is laughing softly as she pulls away, her grey-hazy eyes still watching him as she takes another pull from her own mug.

He has pretty skin, smooth and warm and pale under the fluctuating blush; soft and unblemished where hers is calloused; paintbrush-flicked with freckles rather than scarred or tattooed. She's tempted to reach out and touch again, but maybe not before he's finished that tea, unfortunately.

Edited 2013-10-31 02:23 (UTC)

Martin takes another swig, nearly down to the dregs now, and peers over the side of the bed, searching without being too obvious. He hopes.

He grips the mug tightly for the last few swirls of warmth at the bottom.

"Um. Sorry, but er, where's the bathroom, and do you have a toothbrush I can borrow at all?"

He's trying not to be awkward, but unfortunately awkward is built in.

Edited 2013-10-31 10:30 (UTC)

"Bathroom's over there," Kaidy says, pointing to the door on the left. "Once you're in there, you may want to click the lock on the far door," she adds. "It leads to Ariel's room. Afraid it's a no on the toothbrush - Ariel might well have one going spare, but waking him up to enquire would not end happily right now."

She smirks at him, well aware of what he's looking for. No, she won't be helping him find them - at least, not unless he asks.

(It could be worse - she could have deliberately kicked them under the bed or something. Which, come to think of it, she really should have thought of earlier. Damn.)

Behind the door, the room is small and narrow, walls covered in a hodgepodge of different tiles, with a high, curved ceiling: it's more of a wetroom than a bathroom, with only a shower, toilet, mirrored wall cabinet and sink. It's all very clean, and on the sink there is a toothbrush with a bright yellow sticky note on it.

K,

For your ginger. You can tell me I'm wonderful later - much, MUCH later.

A.

Edited 2013-10-31 12:46 (UTC)

Yes, okay, he's looking for his pants. He only wants to get to the bathroom without blushing himself to death.

"Great, thanks." Martin smiles at her, drains the last of his tea, and plonks the mug down on the nearest flat surface. He scootches to the edge of the bed and kicks his feet out from the sheets. He very carefully doesn't look at her as he scans the floor, locates his pants and drags them over with one foot.

Awkwardly (is there any other way) he wriggles them up to his knees and then in one motion stands and pulls them the rest of the way up, abandoning the safety of the bed sheets.

He doesn't want to think about what he looks like, mostly because he suspects 'pasty' and 'scrawny' are the two adjectives that most readily come to mind.

He chances a glance at her and gestures to the bathroom door.

"Right. Um. I'll be, er, right back. I'll just-" He waves vaguely. "Yeah."

"You're no fun," she tells him good-naturedly, but doesn't tease him further as he crosses the floor: she's been known to go a bit far, but she's not deliberately mean. And, yes, he's skinny and pale, but she's blocky and battered; so what? She still thinks he's cute.

She blows him a kiss when he looks back at her, anyway, and reaches for the plane manual on her desk as he turns to the door... then changes her mind and sneaks up on him, wrapping her arms around his waist and planting a kiss deliberately at the base of his neck before letting go again.

Her expression, as she drops back on the bed and reaches once more for her book, very clearly says so there.

Edited 2013-10-31 18:53 (UTC)

He grins at his feet as he shuffles into the bathroom, the kiss still tingling on his neck.

It's nice. Nicer than he thought it would be, though he's not entirely sure what he was expecting. He isn't expecting the toothbrush and the note. The kindness makes him smile, and reminds him to lock the door.

The 'your ginger' part makes him raise an eyebrow though.

Martin sorts himself out as quickly as possible, and post-teethbrushing, he scrubs at his hair in the mirror, attempting a fix. It's sort of futile.

When he's as presentable as he reckons he can make himself, he takes a deep breath and exits the bathroom.

Well, it wouldn't be Ariel if it didn't involve at least some trolling.

By the time Martin emerges Kaidy is half-sprawled on her bed, already partially immersed in her book: it's a new one, found by Threnody the last time she went shopping, and for a plane that might be in the future for Martin but which is definitely retro for her.

She looks up, however, as he pushes the door open, smiling up at him.

"Hey, Red. Better?"

"Um yes. Thanks. I found a toothbrush by the way. Ariel left it. And this."

Martin crosses to the bed, trying not to think about his near-nakedity and passes her the sticky note.

He wonders for a moment if he can get away with getting back under the covers, but since she isn't it would be a little odd for him to climb back in, so instead he sits.

She pushes herself into a more upright position before reaching out to take the note from him, and laughs when she reads it. Trust Ariel.

"He's such a prick, honestly." She runs her hand slowly down Martin's bare back from his shoulder, her slightly roughened fingers gentle as they trickle over his skin. "He does know your name..."

She doesn't in any way argue with the 'your', though.

Edited 2013-11-01 22:30 (UTC)

Martin's eyes flutter shut as her hands skims along his spine. The touch is somehow like a tickle and yet entirely un-ticklish. He shivers a little and swears he can feel the goosebumps rising up in its wake.

Mostly he misses what Kaidy says, which is unfortunate.

"Mm-hmm." He murmurs a noise of general sort of agreement. To be fair, even if he knew what he was saying, Martin probably wouldn't dispute the 'your' either.

Kaidy smiles, watching his face...

And does it again, fingers stroking lightly over soft warm skin, all the way up his back to his shoulder.

Well, he's been acting almost - almost scared all of a sudden, walking on eggshells, the way he was the night she first went to his house. As if he thinks that at any moment she can and will change her mind and kick him out. Maybe - hopefully - this will convince him she wouldn't dream of it.

Maybe.

Edited 2013-11-04 03:12 (UTC)

He is undeniably a little worried that she will kick him out on his ear. It's not as if there isn't precedent for it, and Kaidy's a busy woman. But it's also dimly possible, he supposes, that she might not...

This all mists and fades when she strokes down his spine, and for some reason, when her fingers drift back up again he stretches out, his body trying to make the tickle-scratch-slide last longer without any input from him.

He breathes long and deep, eyes closed in sensation, before blinking and looking back to her with calm not-quite-drowsiness in his eyes. He smiles at her.

"Thank you." His cheeks pink, as he realises he probably shouldn't be saying words, but he feels like he ought to say it anyway. "For, um-" He waves a hand vaguely. He can't quite bring himself to say 'for not kicking me out', or even 'for still being here'. "You've probably got loads of better things to do than me."

He smiles again at her, and alright, yes, looks at her as well. He's not really paying attention to what he just said.

She laughs, low and husky; though not as hard as she might, because she can hear some of the things he's not saying, too.

"Red, you are ridiculous," she says, framing his jaw with one hand. "And wonderful." She presses a kiss to his lips, light and lingering and ending with a very gentle nip. "And there is nothing, and no-one, I'd rather be doing."

Her hand sneaks up to stroke his hair back from his face.

"On any level."

The laugh, even if it is sort of at him, doesn't feel wrong or mean. It's one of the things he loves about Kaidy, that she can manage somehow to make that work.

And then she says he's ridiculous, which is true, but somehow also not mean, and that he's wonderful, which isn't true, but it makes his face flush some more anyway because it's a very nice lie to hear. And she kisses him and his stomach is in knots even from these easy little kisses.

Martin's not sure what he said, honestly he wasn't exactly paying attention, but it was probably entirely ridiculous. Her presence tends to make him say the first thing that comes into his head, or at least the least helpful thing, and yet she somehow doesn't seem to think he's an idiot or a mental.

He can feel the heat on his face in his ears. He tries to ignore it in favour of the feel of her fingers in his hair. He could probably do with a haircut. Not that that's something he's thinking about right now.

He leans over towards her and presses in for another kiss. He smiles into it, content.

She rather likes him with the longer hair, but that's by-the-by.

For now she pushes back into the kiss, gently at first but slowly growing deeper and fiercer; one hand stroking his hair and the other stroking his skin, petting and smoothing and sliding over his chest and shoulders and back. And snatched between kisses she calls him wonderful and lovely and wonderful again, over and over in a voice like smoke - soft appreciative noises encouraging him on, urging him closer to her, because he's hers, hers, hers, and he's lovely, whatever he thinks.

Edited 2013-11-14 01:06 (UTC)

Martin is somewhat poleaxed by Kaidy at the best of times, and this is definitely one of those times.

He leans and there is Kaidy's taste-smell in his mouth as the kiss deepens and her hands seem to be everywhere, sliding hot and fierce over his skin and he's not entirely sure how.

Her voice curls in his ears and his chest and it's beautiful and she's beautiful and wonderful. He clings on for dear life, pressing kiss after kiss against her lips, her cheeks, and he's pretty sure he kissed her eyebrow at one point, but it doesn't matter because it's Kaidy, and right now he'd really like to kiss her all over, eyebrows included.

He draws back for a second, breath shaking and looks at her, and he's pretty sure now is the right time for some statement or declaration, but he's equally sure that anything he says right now is going to be unintelligible gibberish because he's not entirely thinking with his brain. So instead he just looks, taking in how lucky he is, smiles, and presses back in for another kiss...

Oh, yes, God, yes. In the seconds that he pulls back Kaidy grins at him, fingers curling in his hair and grey eyes like a heat-haze, and then he kisses her again and her hands keep moving, pulling him towards her, trying to touch all of him at once.

And she says yes, yes, yes and calls his name and calls him Red and calls him amazing, fingers skittering over his skin right down to his hips as she presses more kisses (and occasional very light nips) to his lips and chin and jaw.

Finally, though, she stops kissing his face -- but only so that she can kiss down his neck instead, nuzzling and kissing into the crook of his neck, kissing right into the arc where it meets his shoulder.

"You know," she remarks breathlessly, looking up at him between kisses, "I was - mmm - thinking, I might shower. At - yes, there - some point."

(Her thumb finds his nipple, tracing circles around it with just a hint of the edge of her nail.)

"Coming with me?"

Martin's pretty sure he's making some very odd noises. He thinks he can hear himself breathing oddly, and there's a hitching gasp that he knows is him when her lips meet his throat. Mostly though he's focused on listening to Kaidy, trying to store up all the half-words and things she's breathing out more than she is saying.

She calls him Red and he's convinced that she means his skin. He can feel the heat fizzing below the surface, and he's sure he's lobster-red all over, but he doesn't care. One hand strokes gently across the softness of her stomach, curves around the rise of her hip and settles, fingertips just skimming the place where he knows there are words inked into her. He rather hopes to get a chance to find out what they say.

He recognises the word shower, but then she scrapes a circle around his nipple and fuck that sparks inside him, static lightning jumping between two points, and he sucks in a shock of air and loses the thread of her voice. He bites down hard on any noise that threatens to squeak out of him, and also on his bottom lip. The noise still escapes, curling through his treacherous throat. His lip isn't so lucky. His fingers squeeze at her hip, grip clenching for a moment, nails scraping across skin.

He ducks his head and presses his forehead against her shoulder. He gathers himself for a second before he attempts to speak.

"Shower?" He asks, grasping hold of the last intelligible word left in his brain.

Oh, God, whoever taught him to kiss should get a medal; her own thought processes are seriously in danger of being derailed every time his lips move, and then yes, fuck his fingers clench on her hips and she gasps and bucks up instinctively, nerve endings already hyper-sensitive.

When his forehead dips onto her shoulder she pulls herself together enough to stroke his hair, fingers tracing down his neck as she kisses the top of his head and murmurs his name again.

And then she sees his bitten lip (she's going to make him make a lot more noise than that, one way or another) and oh, hell, she wants him, and the way she kisses him shows it.

"You, me, shower," she repeats, planting more pressing, hard little kisses to that bitten bottom lip in between every word. "Or here; but I want you now."

Edited 2013-11-15 01:45 (UTC)

The word 'want' falls from her lips and into his head, and yes, there's a lot of that going about just at the moment.

He tries to keep up with the hard kisses that are almost bites to his lips, but can't help having to gasp for air, it's as overwhelming as it is fantastic.

Martin's too busy to think, which is probably a good thing.

He leans into a kiss, pressing hard and trails it from frantic scrambling to an easy caress of lips. He draws back, breathing heavily.

"Yes." He nods. "Um. Shower, yes. Right." He kisses her again quickly, a graze of lips, just to show himself he still can. "I-" He's not really great with words right now. Sentences are entirely beyond him.

"Yessir."

Honestly, right now she barely even cares if they get to the shower, so long as she gets him; it seemed like a good idea at the time but has been over-ridden by all those ridiculous, wonderful kisses.

"God," she says; her lips cling to his, just far enough apart to breathe, close enough that she can still almost taste him, still wants to taste him. "You have the most amazing mouth, I can't - mmm, yes -"

They need to move but she doesn't want to move away from him; finally she slides backwards off the bed, carefully pulling him along with her.

Outside Milliways

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