twostandingby | (no subject)

Entry tags:

oom,
winter

(no subject)

Shove the stick to the left, throwing the X-wing into a sharp roll, and Tycho should feel the pull of the manuever even with the intertial compensator, but there's nothing. The simulators at Milliways are incredibly rudimentary; no simulated motion or even comm chatter. It's not flying. It's playing.

Still, it's as close as it comes to the real thing while Bound, and so Tycho is tucked behind the black curtain of one of the simulators in the recently (poorly) repainted room, determinedly vaping TIE Interceptors.

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So he twists onto his side to look down at her, propping his head in his hand. "Damn glad I have you," he says quietly, resting his free hand on her arm.

She moves the arm his hand is on and takes it in her hands, moving his hand to her cheek, and kisses the inside of his wrist.

The return of a tiny, weak smile. He watches her a moment, then leans down and lets his forehead rest against her temple.

"It's okay." She murmurs. "I mean...it's not. But..."

She drifts off, sighing.

But she's trying. And the fact that she's even here is a blessing.

Several moments of stillness pass. Eventually, his nose and his cheek move in a slow slide against hers, and he lets his eyes fall closed as he places a kiss on pale skin.

She turns her head, drawing his lips to hers, pulling him close. He's here. She's here. They're here. They're alive. That counts for something, yeah?

It counts for everything.

More than amenable to being pulled close, he kisses her slowly, thoroughly, demonstrating every bit of warm thankfulness and gratitude and love that words never do justice to.

She kisses him back, just as slowly, just as thoroughly, her hands moving to wrap around him, clinging to him. He's her stability, and she loves it. She loves knowing he'll always be there for her.

Because he will. She has to always believe that.

He will. His hands promise their meandering way up her sides as he shifts over. He's not going anywhere. He tangles his legs in hers.

She presses herself against him more, breaking off the kiss and kissing her way down to his neck.

Quiet noise and--maybe it's silly but it's instinctive not to, and he would never for anyone he trusts less than Winter--he bares his throat to her.

She lightly scrapes her teeth on his neck, kissing, licking, until finally latching onto his pulse and sucking the skin, lightly.

"Mmmph." He shifts the rest of the way on top of her, resting most of his weight on his forearms.

"Oof." it's said softly, and in good humour and she pulls his earlobe into her mouth again.

He lets her, but then he really just wants to pull away and kiss her again.

So he does, leaning down with a little more force.

She meets him eagerly, pressing herself against him as they kiss, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

A few lingering kisses and then he finally releases her bottom lip last, mouthing his slow, wet way down her throat with lips and tongue and a hint of teeth. Still sliding down ever-so-patiently, he unfastens the top button of her tunic.

Too patiently kthnx.

She lets her head fall back, her hands falling from his shoulders to tangle in his hair, the bedsheet, anything.

Ministrations reaching the recently uncovered skin and, oh, look at this-- another button seems to have slipped. And another, and another, and very shortly, her shirt is hanging open.

Nosing her collarbone, he slips down farther and plants a series of kisses and nips right along the edge of her bra.

She arches up a tad, both hands in the bedsheet now.

He slips hands where his mouth can't go -- under her bra. Fingers teasing, he licks down her sternum.

She arches up more, moving against him slightly.

Tycho slides down even more, and this means that he can't quite reach anymore, so his hands move to her sides for the moment. He kisses her smooth stomach.

She growls at him, pressing her hips up, moving her leg so her (booted) foot is digging into his lower back.

Gyah!

He pauses, looks up at her with a bemused eyebrow raised.