driftfleet | ship mingle: february is for starstruckers.

[ she doesn't laugh. she does, however, smile against his skin. peggy fancies she can sense the breadth of his nervousness in the way his muscles twitch. she wraps her fingers around one wrist and feels his pulse racing beneath the pads. by contrast, she feels remarkably calm -- but as if she ought to feel nervous, too. ]

What, then? [ she baits and goads and smiles some more. ] What are you talking about?

[ it's funny, the way instincts work. he feels the curve of her lips and he smiles in return, closing his eyes for a moment at her touch. he lets his mind go blank for a moment, neglecting his answer in favor of looking at her. ]

Can't put my finger on it.

[ but he does reach down, hooks his fingers beneath the chin and tugs upwards, urging her with a light pull until he can kiss her. ]

It has its uses.

[ nervous or not, he's not beyond being cheeky. ]

You could.

[ but her 'joke' is interrupted by his kiss. peggy's breath redirects -- sharpish -- through her nostrils and she edges forward. she presses closer: bare skin to bare skin, and her thighs anchoring her against his waist. there's strength in every bit of her, but it's being bent to a different purpose today. ]

Should you be so inclined.

[ put your finger on it -- peggy pauses for a beat, waiting to see how the implication lands. ]

[ steve heard his fair share of bragging from other men about their affairs with women. He always found those sorts of conversations inappropriate, speaking about a lady as if she's an item to be rated. Now, he realizes there was nothing to learn from those talks, either. This isn't about making out behind the soda shop. Peggy presses against him until there's no room between them and steve finds himself feeling shaken by how she fits against him, igniting thousands of nerve endings in her wake.

It's not just a physical sort of want, they have so much between them but some of it isn't present here, grief and longing and sadness pushed aside leaving only comfort and a deep sense of love and want. They're claiming an entire different dance now. He reaches for her hands, lets the tips of their fingers touch. He can settle back for hours of slow, exploratory touches but he doubts that's what the moment requires. There is only one thing more useful than slow learning. ]

Show me.

[ there are endless ways he wants to touch her but for now, he needs to stick to just one. ]

[ nor is peggy immune to the quiet -- almost reverent -- tension building between them. usually so solid and immovable, she finds a trembling inside of her. slight, brief, and almost impossible to pin. something so small and sweet as the way their fingertips touch sends sparks through her system. it lights her up; it puts a gleam in her eyes. ]

Gladly. [ she says one word but the tremor in her voice suggests she might have meant to say eagerly instead.

curling her fingers around his palm, she resolves to 'show' him a brace of gestures; movements; motions. first, she guides steve's hand back to the bottom-most curve of her breast -- this time, she cants his touch against her flesh so that the tips of his fingers fall against peaked and puckered skin: darker and pinker, and (now) stiffening. before she lets him go, she squeezes his hand with hers -- imparting, perhaps, the suggestion that he needn't hold her like something fragile. pressure is welcomed, here.

and welcomed elsewhere, too. because as fresh and new as these experiences are, she's always got harboured in the back of her mind the notion that he should be challenged at every turn. he's no slouch; he doesn't need her to only give him the most watered-down version of what's good, what's wanted, what's enjoyed. so peggy feels her mouth go dry when she reaches for his other hand and -- sitting up on her knees -- she guides him past her stomach and past her navel. with a telling hitch in her own breath, she slides the length of his fingers against the good and dark blue silk of her drawers.

peggy doesn't ask anything of him. instead, she tilts her chin against his shoulder -- pressing forward against his hands -- and gives him a moment to catch his breath. to acclimatize. ]

[ some things are instinctive, others are meant to be taught. It doesn't take away from the moment, on the contrary. Being shown, her confidence as she leads his hands to where she wants them, it all adds up to a whole new moment, raw and overwhelming. It's a fierce reminder that she trusts him and it tugs at him, makes him sigh her name as she sits up.

One thing seems to hold true, once he has her guidance he becomes a very keen learner. He feels her response, warm skin reacting to an initial touch and at once, he moves, dragging a thumb over her nipple once, twice, before drawing a decisive circle just there.

A moment later and he lets his fingers move over thin silk, a small dip and the same circling movement, pressing the fabric against her. It's not tentative anymore as much as it's passionate and curious. ]

[ beyond desire and beyond sex, she's bestowed upon him a boon of sorts. she's given him the keys to the kingdom and puts her faith in his eagerness to loiter over every lock. this time when her breath catches, it's with a hard and plosive sound -- air forced past her lips, curling into a pleasant snarl she's quick to bury with her teeth on his shoulder.

goosebumps spread across her shoulders and down her flanks. and her hips move, pressing herself against his fingertips. this is new territory for them, together, and there's a lot of ground to cover. just now, peggy realizes she'd be dead happy to go an inch at a time.

yes, she all-but-whispers. praising his initiative even as she grips her fingers tight against the outer curve of his thighs -- stabilizing herself while she still can. ]

[ they've been building towards this for months. There was the hotel, there was a red dress in new year's eve that steve secretly imagined peeling off of her and here and now he has to empty his reserves of patience to set a slow pace at first.

There is a moment when it all crashes down, however, a press of teeth and nails and steve's infamous patience fails him entirely, his fingers setting a faster, determined pace as he arches up beneath her, nudging her backwards,ducking his head and pressing a kiss to her neck and to the breast he isn't holding. There is little need for guidance now, he seems to realize that an open mouthed kiss against her nipple will be welcomed. ]

[ it's welcomed. and how. her spine bends with how he urges her backward. working on instinct, she leans back in a way that relinquishes her role as the aggressor in the moment. dimly, in the back of her mind, she knows no control has been lost. not really. only traded away for their mutual enjoyment.

she feels her hair slip off her shoulder. she feels the necklace slide against her clavicle. and, best of all, she feels his mouth close on her skin. the sound she makes dovetails to a brief squirm -- all in reaction to a pleasant flip-flop in the pit of her stomach. peggy skims her palm up his arm and curls her fingers against the back of his head -- pulling him near and urging his mouth to stay in place.

although she tips backward at his bidding, there remains a subtle buck of her hips against his body -- and against his touch. it allows for no mistaking the physical grammar of the moment: betraying a biological drive even as she lolls and luxuriates in their play. ]

[ it's funny how she undoes him with so few gestures. He feels her lean back, feels her fingers curled at his nape and just then, she shifts against his fingers and steve hums against her skin, entirely intoxicated. ]

Christ.

[ his voice is low and when he swears, it's just barely audible, a huff of air against her breast. Right then and there, another alien raid could come and go and he'd be entirely oblivious to it. ]

[ although they might indulge their twinned impatience, there remains no imperative to rush. peggy thinks she might happily stay just like this for a lengthy while. there's a charm and an enchantment found in how he feels his way to her reactions: how he tests and how he tries. despite the silk barrier, he manages to stroke just high enough and -- ah-h, the air is stolen straight out of her lungs. her nails dig in, as though she might anchor herself to that sensation a moment longer. ]

-- That's my line, [ she protests (half-heartedly) and suggests that she ought to be the one cursing blue beneath her breath because of these exploratory touches and beginner's kisses. ]

Got to it first.

[ and so easily, too. spurred by the expanse of skin beneath his fingertips and his lips and her quickening breath. it's entirely new and ever the strategist, he files away every spot and every touch that coaxes a desired reaction, makes a plan on when to visit them next.

he sighs, nudges closer to her. all of the sudden, he's not sure how he managed without this sort of proximity before. ]

You'll have to find another.

[ others do spring to mind -- but she tries to hold her tongue. tries to bite down on the next rich, heartfelt sound his fingers elicit. it's a raw and honest moment. foreplay is such a misleading word for something she might happily do again and again with no expectation of escalating further.

and yet! as in conversation, she seeks to deflect a little in intimacy too. peggy's hands grope -- greedy -- at the slope of his thighs. she kisses past his neck. and although she allows herself to be urged onto her back, she uses this fresh angle to her advantage and places a sucking kiss to the same bit of flesh she once reached out and touched on impulse in the minutes after steve had stepped out of the vita-ray chamber. ]

Continue like that, [ she huffs -- more breath than voice, ] and I'm certain I will.

[ there is so much of everything in those moments that steve is almost worried he might miss a sound or a touch. Touching her becomes, at once, as necessary as kissing her and he lets his kisses wander, and one of his hands to roam over her skin. Still, the sentiment here isn't complex, it's really as simple as it is overwhelming. steve seeks her lips and her kisses, letting those distract him from what feels like a thousand different love confession that almost slip out.

There's just her name, a strained whisper pressed against the corner of her mouth, to imply that there is a lot more that goes unsaid. ]

I've got a question to ask you -- [ peggy sighs her way through the words, arching up against his exploratory touch. ] And you've got to promise me you'll try and react with a level head.

[ be cool, steve rogers. that's what she's trying to say. don't make it awkward or damning or bizarre, though she half-suspects what comes next has an equal opportunity to either inflame or douse their current mood. regardless of his answer. ]

A level head, right now?

[ he sounds as if she had asked him the most impossible of things. He sighs and lifts himself onto an elbow, his other hand moves to her thigh. ]

I'll do my best but you should have tried me twenty minutes ago.

[ she curls her fingers into his hairline, ghosting the edge of her thumb across his temple. soft, tender touches. there's nothing elegant about moments like these -- and in part, she feels a slim temptation to dispense with responsibility and simply enjoy a stolen afternoon. it's not so easily done, however, when she considers how fierce and honestly she loves this man. some things are worth doing right. ]

It's only that I, ah -- wonder how well you packed. How [ -- err -- ] prepared you'd planned to be. [ it's unlike peggy to stumble, or to demure, or to break eye-contact with a nervous smile. and yet all three of these things happen at once.

she can't quite make it all the way to the word prophylactic. heavens, she's not even convinced that would be the inevitable direction of this little tryst -- but if the conversation is worth having, then it's worth having now. the hotel is long behind them. ]

[ it takes a moment. not a long one, mercifully - just enough to focus on her words and find the meaning beneath them. it's an uncharted territory, one he has been thinking about but not one he has been anticipating. ]

Not well enough [ he admits, and not without a rather tragic sigh, ] didn't think about it.

[ ever the old-fashioned, it would seem. originally, he had imagined a whole other setting for this, preferably one when he isn't pressing her into the ground, sleeping bag or not. goes to show, really, as he is rather taken with this moment, unorthodox as it is. ]

Definitely will be thinking about it for a few more weeks to come,

[ it's a breathless confession, his fingers unconsciously trace a line up her thigh. ]

[ she can't help but smile: smallish, but sincere. trusting and affable. when peggy ensnares him with another kiss, it's no less heated and no less insistent. a lot of love can be had without the tools under discussion -- and knowing, now, means their boundaries are set. and their future opportunities broadened.

with low laughter, she leans into his touch gives herself a moment to catch her breath again. ] Middle drawer in my desk, by the way. I've had a false bottom put in. [ ahem. ] For when you do think about it.

You've put a -

[ not important, he has to remind himself. something to be curious about much, much later when they're not kissing like this. steve sighs against her lips, kisses the corner of her smile, lingering there. ]

Good to know.

[ he grabs her close, both hands at her hips and rolls aside, letting her claim her earlier position above him. ]

You say it like it's going to be a seldom thing.

[ him thinking about it, that is. ]

[ a jolt of pleasant surprise, it seems, and she finds herself comfortably straddling him again. she pull him upward -- urging him to sit up while she sits on him. ]

How fortunate is it is, then, that I've stashed a whole tin in the drawer. I foraged them from the room in Corona. [ along with other things, it seems.

almost incapable of looking him in his blue eyes, she steals another kiss instead. ]

Good thinking.

[ the entire corona affair, however awkward, not to mention stupid ( on his part ), did serve a purpose. ill-timed but not without its uses, it would appear. ]

You know, I could get used to this.

[ not the act itself so much as to the details of it, her weight on on top of him, the soft pressure of skin to skin. if he runs a hand over her back beneath her night-shirt in nights to come, it'll be because of today, a chase after the quiet, decisive intimacy that's present here.

steve had loved peggy in what feels like endless ways, in various timelines but he always to rein in his want of her. this trend seems to be coming to a quick end; he runs a hand from her chin, down her neck, over her breast and down to where she had guided him before, humming into her lips when his fingers find silk again. ]

[ her brows knit. without cracking away from making eye contact, she watches him watch her while a second jolt of pleasure shoots through her nervous system. parts of her react more on instinct and urge than with meticulous planning, and she rolls her hips forward so she might meet the gentle probe of his fingers. it's tempting to shut her eyes and luxuriate -- except she doesn't want to miss a moment. ]

I suppose we ought to start investing in some proper camping gear. [ a hard swallow. ] Y-yes?

[ she hates to stammer. but a steady syllable is hard to achieve when she's all tied up in him. ]

[ bold curiosity turns to utter fascination; he wraps an arm around her waist, brings her a little closer and sighs her name when she shifts against his hand. She's in his lap and impossibly warm beneath his fingers and steve is entirely gone for her. ]

As soon as possible.

[ possibly tomorrow if he has a say in this, well after he lets her out of this embrace which turns into a dance of sorts, the slow roll of her hips and his fingers stroking higher, searching for the spot that made her gasp. ]

[ these are the quiet(ish) ways in which negotiations are started, conducted, and achieved. mundane though it seems -- and under these circumstances, especially -- there are firm agreements they're chasing, here. peggy's little assertion about camping gear has been her way of suggesting the many further meditations on this activity be contained to off-ship trips. and in turn, she takes his response as affirmation.

this is lovely; this is utterly delightful. but she worries over wider distractions. she will not be the captain who fiddles away while her ship starts to burn -- and so the relationship and its fruits must be compartmentalized. quarantined. and she needs his cooperation, she realizes, because returning to their shared bed aboard the starstruck will take incredible willpower after a night like this. ]

Such as, [ she huffs -- biting her lip through a squirm working its way down her spine. ] A tent, good God, that's less barn-like.

[ his search succeeds. and even through silk (that is gradually becoming damper) she feels a feather-light pressure just, almost, nearly, there. heaven help her, but she squeezes her eyes shut. ]

Edited 2017-03-26 04:45 (UTC)

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