driftfleet | ship mingle: february is for starstruckers.

You gotta be right.

[ it all becomes a little sharper and clearer now, with how close they are. steve has never felt an inward desire to tell her sweet nothings - has never really felt the need to alert her to the obvious facts that he finds her very beautiful or other such compliments. it's never been about that. he met beautiful women during his life but the truth of the matter is, something in peggy has always spoken to that same something in him, a rare sort of stubbornness, set-in-stone ideals and an attitude that almost dares others to say you can't only to prove otherwise.

but that's entirely sentimental too, isn't it? and before he can think if to tell her all of that or not, she trades one short kiss for a longer one that quickly morphs into an even longer one and steve grips her side, just above where he can feel the rhythm of her heartbeats, his feel quicker than they've ever been. he breathes her name, once and then another word, ]

Inside.

[ there's no one out here and still. there's earth and pebbles and he can't see her as properly as he'd like. ]

[ she's twisted. head turned; body facing another direction. there's nothing about it that's comfortable, but she doesn't notice. she's too caught up in the kisses and his firm touch on her sides. too caught up in the warmth of his lap and the still-sticky dampness of lakewater not yet adequately toweled away.

but then he gives way to single words -- no sentences -- and his loosening inhibitions slice through hers like a sharp knife. ]

And what about the fire? [ peggy asks, not really caring one whit about the flames but caring an awful lot about his answer all the same. like challenging him to be insouciant about it all. ] What about your sketches?

[ but she's already on her feet -- looming over him, just a moment, before she drags steve to join her. peggy grabs his head in her open palms and pulls his mouth towards hers. ]

Later.

[ the sketches. it takes a moment for him to remember what she means when she refers to the fire and when he does, he gives a small, backwards kick, earth flying to cover flames. it might be enough to put an end to the flames and might not, he doesn't look back to check. ]

dealt with.

[ it's all very short, all very punctual, as if they're in the middle of an OP and each word must count. the previous moments stretched pleasantly, slow and languish; the ones that follow are hurried, as if a gear was shifted. they seem to move at once, she pulls him down, he grabs her sides and all but hauls her back into his arms and blindly walking her backwards, away from the fire he built and towards the tent she's built. ]

[ she could ask about her honour, next, but peggy finds herself rather disinclined to spoil the mood. instead, she watches dirt fly into the flames -- and hears a pleasant crackle as some of the embers start to suffocate.

her steps fall in sync with his, however hurried. and as they fumble backwards, she's happy to recall she hadn't buttoned down the tend's boxy door. elbows and angles snagging on canvas, they manage to get themselves inside. the tent itself is shaped more like a small shed than any conventional tent -- build to house the bird people, and not a pair of humans. earlier, she'd already laid out both sleeping rolls and a few extra blankets.

she's moved on from his mouth. instead, she tastes a line of skin from his jaw down to his shoulder. sucking on the skin of his neck for a moment before moving onward. ]

-- Steve? [ she says his name between breathes. it's like a signal. a lit lamp to snag his attention for one last sober second thought. ]

[ he never really looked at the tent before nor does he, now. All that registers is the fact that they've stumbled inside and that it's spacious. Beyond that, there's nothing. His entire attention is focused on her, he slides both palms up her back, over her shoulder and down her arms. ]

Peg?

[ he looks down, meets and holds her gaze, it all feels like the height of battle, the middle of one of their sparring matches, all adrenaline and energy buzzing just beneath skin surface ]

[ her breath is showing, now. ragged, and physical. her chest falls with each sigh. peggy also feels the similarity between their sparring matches and this moment. indeed, she has to take care not to try too hard to get him on his back right away. patience, she cautions herself. ]

I'm all in. [ however evident that might have been the moment he turned around and saw her standing there in lingerie, she knows it's worth articulating aloud. not least of all because what happened back at the hotel, months ago. she wants to know that he's ready, too. ] If you are.

[ her caresses aren't simply soft. not any longer -- so when she runs an open hand over her side, she also grips the muscle just beneath the skin. curling around to his lower back, her fingernails leave little marks. love-dents. ]

[ he has to force himself to focus on her words rather than letting his fascination with her take over. He looks at her for a moment, a glint of pale blue and gold over the darker blue fabric of her bra, it's a terribly pleasing sight. It's the combination of that and the way her touch turns sharper that has him biting down on a rather undignified gasp.

When her words finally register he moves both his palms to her cheeks and manages a distracted, ]

Yeah.

[ when he kisses her, it's shallow and messy, a graze of lips that's a distraction from what must be a retaliation, moving one hand over her neck, following the golden chain he got her down and over her breast. ]

[ there is a great deal of pent up energy lurking behind this moment. her next breath heaves the swell of her chest into his wandering hand; his next kiss finds it perfect mark and she is, indeed, distracted. they're standing with just enough headroom in the bizarre shed-like tent, and the heavy canvas makes for little light. but light's not so necessary, not when her eyes are already shut.

his monosyllabic answer might as well have flipped a switch. peggy pulls him in -- nearer, firm against her hips. and she does so without breaking apart their kiss, but by deepening it. her chin tilts and she pulls, insistent, on his bottom lip.

most importantly, she doesn't say a word. ]

[ it feels a bit like what he imagines surfing to be, a quick, breathless rise and a partial loss of control, a feeling of a few missed heartbeats and beneath it all, a thrill. Once curious about dark blue fabric, he's now far more interested at the skin beneath, thumbing at the outline of her bra while moving his other hand to nudge a strap off her shoulders.

There's little point at hiding it, the kiss deepens, her own lips tug at his and steve hisses, low and audible. They've rarely had so little space between them. ]

[ there's very little artful about the moment. scrap by scrap, other impulses take control. and peggy feels the negligible pressure of a bra strap slide smoothly down her shoulder. despite all the snuggling and nearness back on the starstruck, there has always been a boundary. space; clothing; decorum. either way, this may indeed be the first time steve's fingertips come into contact with the raised scars on the curve of her shoulder. her breath hitches when his fingertips skate across them.

she hooks an arm around his neck, dragging his mouth down to her level and snaring it still. peggy sucks on his lower lip, again, eager to recreate that hiss. the sound of it sent a jolt of electricity straight to her core. her posture, so often stiff, turns languid. and when her hips roll against his -- almost grinding -- there lingers the reminder that, unlike him, this isn't her first dance. ]

[ even though they are already enhanced, his senses seem to sharpen all at once, leaving him helpless before this particular overload.

He hears her breath catch and pauses where he in. Scars, he notes, one thumb slowly tracing their shape. Already, he wants to turn her around and kiss her right at that spot but she tugs at his lips, presses their hips together and steve groans and drags her down, back into his lap but this time, facing him. ]

When did you get these?

[ his fingers ghost over her scars, he counts two of them. ]

[ when she settles in his lap, it's done indelicately. balancing on his thighs, her heels pressed into the bedroll beneath. she keeps herself from tilting backward by both engaging her core and locking her fingers behind his neck. ]

Does it matter? [ where and when. but the words aren't harsh; instead, they're almost gentle. she leans in and hugs herself against his chest for a moment. ] There are so many things I'd rather be doing than swapping war stories.

[ and maybe that is answer enough: the war. after all, there had been action still between the day he went missing and ve day. ]

It might later.

[ when they're not entirely wrapped in one another, he might ask her again. There are still so many things he's discovering about her and each one catches his open interest.

But not for too long, at the moment, not when they're pressed together like this. He could ask her like what but steve decides to press an open-mouthed kiss against her neck and another against the now bare skin of her shoulder. ]

[ it seems to be an open secret between the pair that she rather covets those wandering kisses -- and on her neck, especially, where he's likely to come across a spot or two that steals her breath away. she betrays a pleasant shiver down her spine. ]

Later -- [ she echoes him from both just now and from his earlier dismissal of his sketchbooks. and the inviting, smoky tone to her voice suggests the echo isn't a coincidence. peggy mouths the shell of his ear -- the best she can reach when she cranes her neck. risking a loss of balance, she caresses one hand down from his nape to the muscle of his upper arm. there, she grips him like a vice. the tight hold telegraphs something of the desire built up inside her. not only over today, but over weeks. months. defusing it had been simpler before they shared her bed; since that development, she hasn't had much time alone and private except for during showers.

and, well, she's far too practical a woman to waste hot water. ]

[ he's almost methodical in the way he goes about this. With an abundance of time at his hands, he makes certain to map and explore and memorize what makes her breath catch. It's a shift between slow open-mouthed kisses and a sudden nip when his control slips due to warm breath on his ear.

He moves both of his hands to the back of her thighs, holding her against him. When his lips inch down they taste metal. He noses her necklace aside, tilts his head to kiss the side of her breast. ]

I should have gotten you earrings.

There's still time.

[ -- she finds it within her to play and joke, though her words are more breath than voice. peggy bends her knees and lifts her body and (after a moment) it would be more accurate to say she's straddling his lap than sitting in it. kneeling. so that, as when she had her legs wrapped around him in the lake, she's got a manufactured height on him. and so her next breath rises her chest against his kiss.

peggy tilts her chin and smells lake water and sunlight on his hair. ] Get them later. Or don't. Frankly, it's hard to care just now.

[ all she wants is him. ]

They wouldn't have been in the way.

[ his smile is pressed against the side of her breast. She's so different, just now, breathless and pliant in his arms and steve is almost entirely overwhelmed with want that he all but forgets himself. Instinct guides his hand up her back to twist and unhook and peel the bra off her and bold curiosity coaxes him to trail his fingertips over the expanse of soft skin and after a moment, drop his hand back to her thigh and kiss her, just there between her breasts. ]

[ peggy laughs. in part because of how she'd misunderstood the statement -- and the rest because, in her heart of hearts, she's well-convinced he can navigate his way around a pretty pendant. he certainly seems not to be having any trouble now.

in fact: ] Good God, you removed that with a bit more expertise than I might have anticipated.

[ but the bra is gone -- it had been on for less than a handful of minutes, and now she sits bare before him. peggy rises by an almost-inch and hugs him into his kiss. the aforementioned pendant thuds gently against his forehead. ]

Your faith is touching.

[ it's dry and loving, lips curled into a smile. Weeks spent watching the many women on the USO tour checking on those clasps as they went had left their mark. One can't claim he learned nothing.

He makes an impatient noise at the back of his throat and reaches to turn the necklace backwards, letting the stone rest on her back rather than in her chest. ]

[ look, she doesn't want to spoil the mood but: ] I can't speak from experience but a smooth move like that would probably give even Howard a run for his money.

[ to make up for it, she slides her hand up the front of his torso and catches his chin with the edge of a finger. gently (reluctantly!) she lifts his mouth from the valley between her breasts and captures it in a kiss instead. as kisses go, this one is considerably more aggressive. peggy probes past his lips and knits her fingers firmly in his hair. her own impatient desire is catching up with her. ]

Are you talking about Howard Stark -

[ he was probably going to say something, an outraged rule that no Stark should be brought up in this sort of situation ever again but her lips find his and the kiss becomes urgent and rushed, knocking both his breath and his complaints away. Steve clutches her closer, feels her fingernails against his scalp and the resulting groan is lost somewhere in their kiss.

And to think, a moment ago he marveled at her patience and softness. ]

[ patience is only so good for so long before it begins to fray at its edges. it unravels. and peggy, swept up by impatience instead, pauses only long enough to listen to the sound that betrays his enjoyment. the groan is not the only sign, however, and she doesn't shy away from pulling herself tighter against his hips.

wind rustles the tent's canvas, but she can barely hear it above the rush of blood in her ears. she holds him tight -- locking him into their kiss a moment longer -- before nudging her hand against his chest. ] Lie back.

[ it's not a question. ]

[ there's a decisive shift that manages to catch him by surprise - he thought he had this figured out and under control but that illusion quickly fades away, making his breath hitch and catch and he pushes into her the very moment she pulls herself closer. before he can make sense of this tangle, the weight of her against him he feels her shifting again and steve rogers may be known as one who questions every order that's given to him but he obeys her at once, leaning back and taking her with him, his hands firm on her hips. he looks up at her, arching an eyebrow. ]

Better?

[ as moments go, this one is delightful. she feels his shoulders hit the spread bedroll -- and (all the better) he takes her with him. peggy's hair hangs like a curtain, shifted over one shoulder, when she leans down to steal another kiss.

she presses down -- making her back slope. it's inevitable: gravity drags the necklace forward and it swings, ponderous, from the curve of her neck once more. the realization that it's smacking gently against his chin makes her laugh into their kiss. with a last bit of suction, she pulls back and shifts her attention to the hollow of his throat instead. ]

It's an improvement.

[ when he does as she says, he spends the first few seconds of lying down in a form of awed silence, gazing up her as if he's committing her to memory before their lips meet again. ]

Always in the way -

[ the little grumble is aimed at that necklace which now rests against his collarbone. Steve slides one hand through her hair and one down and along her spine. ]

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