driftfleet | sun's rest (locked to tyrion)

Entry tags:

sun's rest (locked to tyrion)

Who: Sansa Stark & Tyrion Lannister
Broadcast: n/a
Action: down on the planet
When: during May
Warnings: NSFW

( Sansa has wanted to be with Tyrion again after the last failed attempt but she's been too afraid of failing to be able to try. When they arrive in the new system, though, there's a beautiful planet with a garden that glows after the sun goes down. It'd been such a beautiful place when she visited it with Bucky and now she wants to share that with Tyrion.

She's gotten a basket with food planetside so that she and Tyrion can eat something that isn't the terrible food on the ship and has gotten a bottle of wine; Sansa doesn't drink much but she thinks it might relax her. )

Isn't it lovely here? I've so been looking forward to being with you here. I came the other day and knew I had to come back with you so you could see this with me.

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It's good wine but I don't have your vast experience with wine - you'll have to tell me if I've pleased you.

( Sansa reclines a bit on the blanket and just watches as colorful birds fly through the brilliantly-lit garden. She wishes she could capture this somehow on a tapestry in case she ever returns to Winterfell and have this perfect memory of a night with Tyrion for the rest of her life. )

I've been thinking about bedding again, Tyrion. About trying it?

You always please me - but this wine is a very close second.

[It reminds him of a good Dornish red - a bitter-sweet taste that makes him think of home. Of sharing a bottle of this with Jaime, or a glass with Cersei when she wasn't being a complete bitch.

It was better now, though. Sharing this with Sansa. It cleared the mind and the palate.

Interest sparked in his gaze.]

What have you decided?

I've decided I want to try again tonight. I thought we might have a nice evening here and when we've had our fill, go back to share your bed?

( Sansa desperately wants him to say yes. It'd gone poorly last time and she doesn't want to fail again. )

[Tyrion's eyebrows rise so high they disappear into his dirty golden curls, and he clears his throat abruptly.]

Are you certain, my love? I am ... absolutely up for you sharing my bed, but let us both be on the same page.

( Sansa knows that if she's going to succeed at this, she must keep trying, and she doesn't want Tyrion to talk her out of it when she's trying to be brave. He's a good man, a kind man, but this is something she needs for herself more than she needs to please him. )

I don't want to go my whole life without knowing what it feels like when it's done the way it's supposed to be. I don't want to go without having children because I'm afraid of making them. I want to have this for me, not for anyone else.

[He looks at her for a long moment, then nods his head solemnly.]

Then yes, you may bed me this evening for your pleasure.

( Sansa leans back onto the blanket she's brought, drinking her glass of wine lazily. Knowing that Tyrion is interested in trying again, at least, is enough to relax her somewhat. Perhaps they'll have a good time out here tonight and continue it up in the Fleet in Tyrion's bed. )

I hope it's for your pleasure, too. We ought to both enjoy ourselves.

[Tyrion grinned into his cup of wine, swallowing deeply so he would be completely and totally relaxed this evening. He knew it would take a great deal to dampen his particular performance.]

Oh trust me, darling wife, my enjoyment is practically promised.

You flatter me needlessly, husband. You know I'm already yours, I don't need you to fill my head with nonsense about how pleased you are.

( Sansa drinks from her wine too. She doesn't want to be drunk but she thinks being pleasantly relaxed might help keep her from getting too wound up later and would help her to enjoy the experience more.

She lays back against the blanket, looking over at Tyrion. )

Come kiss me?

True, but I have always promised you poetry, have I not?

[He puts the glass aside, and lays down next to her, pressing light kisses across her fine, pale cheeks and over her rosy lips. As many of these kisses as she'll allow.]

( Sansa loves to kiss and there's something particularly romantic about the glowing garden and she and Tyrion all alone. She cups his cheek as she kisses him, fingertips soft against his skin, and parts her mouth beneath his. Gods, but he's good at kissing and she hopes she's gotten good in return. )

[He smiles deeply, before pressing his lips against hers once more. Such soft lips and warm hands on his cheek. A quiet exhalation, deep and sweet, her eyelashes brushing against his skin. A very promising beginning this.]

( Sansa kisses him desperately for a few moments before pulling away, pupils blown with pleasure. She rolls over so she's laying on her back and invites Tyrion to come and cover her. )

Atop me now, I think, while we kiss some more? There's no one around and I don't think we'll get interrupted.

[Tyrion really didn't need any encouragement, but he did like the invitation. He slipped atop her, moving his mouth from her lips, down her throat, nuzzling the sweet, silky skin up to her ear.]

Well if we are ... then we are going to the First Breath so we will not be.

We'll move eventually anyway. For now, though, more kissing.

( Sansa tips her head back and sighs, enjoying the feel of Tyrion's lips against her skin. Lady's gone off somewhere and that's fine with Sansa - she just wants to enjoy this moment for what it is. )

As you wish, my dear.

[He moved his lips back to her softer ones, nibbling and tasting, as he swept one hand through her red hair slowly. He has had dreams like this - and he will feel happy to stretch this out as much as possible.]

( Sansa has had dreams like this too, dreams where she and Tyrion kissed for hours on end. She just wants to progress past where her simple dreams have gone and she feels as though tonight will be the night.

Sansa reaches a hand between them to unbutton the front of her dress a bit, revealing more skin if Tyrion wants to touch her or kiss her there. )

[Tyrion let out a low noise of approval, before pulling his mouth away once more to chase the trail of pale skin. He nibbled along her throat, kissing the very last open space around her opened dress.]

( Sansa whimpers a bit under his expert mouth and she lets out a slow breath. It feels so good, what he's doing, and she wants Tyrion's mouth everywhere that it can reach and a few places that it can't currently. )

You should...tell me when we ought to go back to the ship. I don't know how far we should go out here.

[Tyrion paused, then looked thoughtfully up at her.]

I would assume when you are ready to remove your clothing for me, my love.

( Sansa spares a glance to her half undone bodice and looks back up at Tyrion. She's a little sheepish because it seems she has started undressing right here in public. The curves of her breasts are peeking out above her shift. )

It seems I've already gotten a start on that, Tyrion. We should probably head back before I debauch myself.

[He looks down at her himself, then snorts slightly.]

Well, that sounds perfectly ... reasonable.

[He pushed himself up, then went to pack up the picnic, because he had the distinct feeling they would be hungry later on.]

Do you want to debauch me, Tyrion Lannister?

( Sansa asks it with a broad grin on her face, her eyes tilting up at the corners a bit. She touches his hand a bit and bites her lip, almost shy. )

Gods, but I love you.

I absolutely want to debauch you, Sansa Stark.

[He took her hand, and squeezed it firmly, giving her a warm smile in return.]

Oh good, because I would have felt awkward being in love with you, then.

Don't be silly, Tyrion. You know that I love you.

( Sansa has said it many times now, even if she'd only begun just recently, and she wants to just say it as many times as she can in case she or Tyrion disappear like she had once.

When they get back to the Fleet, they go to the First Breath and his rooms instead of hers on the Starduck and Sansa sits on the edge of his bed. She's happy to have worn a sundress in the brief style of modern women and not her own heavy way of dressing. )

Come debauch me, then.

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