posterboymarine | Two Ships [rp for neverwrongagent]

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Two Ships [rp for neverwrongagent]

After the call, he'd said he would stay put. And he did, right until he got word of where she was coming in. Then he throw his things back into his bag and made his way to the nearest Couch Canada station. He took the bus and found the cheapest motel he could. He got a room on the backside of the building, and he waited.

He tried to sleep, something he'd been mostly unable to do since he'd called her. But every time he closed his eyes, he imagined he felt the burner phone vibrate and he jerked awake. Finally, he just gave up and turned on the TV. It didn't manage to hold his interest, at all, but it was background noise.

With that noise quieting the doubts in his head, he waited.

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She was more than ready to give him what he needed. That contact was crucial to both of them, but she didn't want it to be a panicked kind of thing. They needed it to be reassuring. She never stopped touching him as they kissed, never stopped petting.

He slowly shifted them as they kissed, getting both of them on their sides. Then he started pulling at her clothes. There was nothing panicked about the contact. It was pure need.

Need was good. It was perfectly reasonable. She let him get her shirt loose and half open before she started working on his clothes. She wanted him totally bare and she wanted to keep him that way for a good long while. As much as she needed that contact, she needed that to be normal for them.

When she got his pants part way down, she reached her hand in and goosed him.

He yelped softly when she goosed him. "Hey." Then he ground against her, letting himself get lost for a few moments.

The yelp made her laugh happily, but it was the way he rubbed against her that made her happiest. At their best, they could take each other to the safest, most honest place in the world. Her eyes fluttered shut as she enjoyed his body against hers.

It was a while before she went back to moving her hands over him, now with no danger of pinching.

He just enjoyed the contact. There was no reason to rush her, no reason to push. Not when he'd been alone for so long. Now he needed all the memories he could get, to carry him through his next period of isolation.

His lips brushed over hers at every opportunity, but never lingers. He wanted to enjoy all over her, to memorize all of her, to hold him over.

While they kissed, she allowed herself the kinds of fantasies that had gotten her into trouble with him in the first place. Now they were a comfort, a hope for their future. She imagined them cooking meals in a little kitchen where they bumped into each other even when they didn't have to. She pictured them waking up slowly, reluctant because they knew they didn't have anywhere to go.

She found herself whimpering with longing. They'd earned that and she wanted it.

He finally pulled back a little to look at her, concerned at the whimpering writ across his face. "What's wrong, love?"

She smiled immediately to calm his worry, then she kissed him tenderly. "Nothing's wrong. I was just fantasizing about you." She kissed his shoulder before kissing her way up his neck. "I liked it."

"Fantasizing? But I'm right here." He caught her up in another kiss and grinned against her lip.

Laughing softly, she settled into the kisses for a while, teasing him. Finally she pulled back and met his eyes. "Was thinking of the little things. The ones that matter." Like nosegays and walks by the lake. She touched his lips with the back of her fingers. "Peaceful things."

He smiled against her fingers, then swept his fingers through her hair. "Tell me?"

Leaning into his touch, she closed her eyes so she could fully picture it, letting him see the emotions play over her face. She could like like a master when she worked, but this was a time to let him see the full truth of her feelings. "Making dinner is all about seeing how long we can go brushing past each other before we have to stop and kiss. Don't want to burn anything, but the need to stop and be close is so strong. Then after, sitting by the fire, we talk and talk. Doesn't even have to be about anything. Just about being together."

He smiled as he watched her face. Listening to what she described made his heart ache. He wanted that life, desperately, but it seemed impossible. To know, really know, that she wanted the same thing, made things both harder and easier.

She had that same sense, the wanting and the worrying. That sense that nothing they truly wanted would be theirs. She wasn't going to let that show. She couldn't for either of their sakes. It mattered that this was a safe moment.

She nuzzled at his jaw, the tucked in close. "Taking out the trash. You get to do that."

"You get to sort laundry." He kissed her hair, then sighed highly. "I wish you could never leave."

She wished the same. Before the blast, she'd been ready to walk away, to run away with him to somewhere not so very different from what they were planning. It made her ache that she couldn't just say yes to him. What they were doing was already so dangerous. "I wish we could leave. That we could go somewhere really safe together and be what we're supposed to be."

He shook his head with a soft sigh. "There's no place safe. You know that."

Carrie shifted in his arms until she was pressed hard against him. She put one arm around his neck and the other over his heart as she kissed him firmly. It was the only safe place she know. She couldn't keep them there, but she could take them there for a moment.

He resisted her unconscious placation for a moment, then sighed against her lips. It wasn't much, but it was all they had.

It was all they'd ever had. It was what their entire relationship was based on and if he rejected it now, they were done for. When she felt him relax a little, she shifted so she could pet him a little more easily with both hands. She wanted to memorize him, to record every moment.

The petting calmed him more and he let out a heavier sigh against her lips. The touches stayed gently for as long as he could handle it. Then he decided he needed more. He still wasn't ready to face the world and he was perfectly happy to hide in her a little longer.

Shifting against her, he pressed, changing the way he touched her in response. He didn't want to have to ask, to put words to what he needed, for fear of breaking the mood entirely with how beaten he sounded.

More than happy to give him whatever she could, which was why she'd gone up in the first place, she shifted against him and whimpered happily. It was something she didn't have to fake, didn't have to be anything but herself to do. He could take her gentle or wild.

She found a spot on his neck to pay attention to, somewhere she knew had a tendency to make him make the most marvelous noises. She wanted that from him.

He groaned at the way her lips felt against his neck. She was cheating, now, and it was just fine with him. His arms tightened and he shifted against her again.

After a few moments, he did a final check to make sure they were naked. Then he did, physically, what he'd been doing emotionally for weeks. He gave her control. He rolled so she was on top of him, giving himself to her.

That wasn't a position they'd done much of before, except for on the couch which was too awkward to really count. At some level she understood the significance of it, but she didn't want to think about it too much. She didn't want to think about anything too much. This moment was for feeling, for connecting on that level they had found so unexpectedly in the rain.

She worked her way down his throat to his chest, lightly kissing the scars that continued to fade. If only it were as easy to erase the ones inside. She flicked her tongue over his nipple and looked up to see his reactionl

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