[ john is concerned and then, once marcos tells him where he is, he's angry. angry that marcos is putting himself through that again, putting himself in a position to get hurt so badly again. but, marcos shuts him down with the bare bones of daisy's offer before telling him he'd be back tomorrow.
once that was done, he made his way through the apartment, eventually finding daisy in the kitchen. the pain in his arm is almost nonexistent and he barely realizes he still doesn't have his shirt on. he could go and find that, put it back on, make things a little easier but it's ruined anyway.
he comes to stand behind her, leaving a few feet of space between them. ]
What are you doing?
[ he doesn't think he'll startle her but he keeps his voice quiet anyway. he shifts a little to peer over her shoulder and see what was so interesting inside the fridge. ]
[ his voice startles her out of a spiral of deep, questioning thoughts. the kind of thoughts that branch out from place to place, starting in one seemingly innocuous place — i have beer in the fridge — to memories long since repressed or forgotten. the two of them in the kitchen one summer evening, soaking wet after having been caught in the rain, beer buzzed and happy for one fleeting moment, her back pressed up against the fridge as they kissed. a memory she hasn't thought about in... weeks. months. hasn't let herself think about, in any case.
his voice startles her, and daisy spins around, shutting the fridge behind her with a slam. a flush blooms red over her cheeks and down the column of her neck as she takes a step backwards, her shoulders bumping into the freezer's top door. what was she doing? how does she answer that? ]
I was just... thinking, um. About what was in there, I guess.
[ not the best excuse. now that she's face to face with him again, it becomes even more painfully obvious that he's shirtless (if not a little bandaged on one side). why is that so difficult to tear her eyes away from?
maybe swallowing will help. forcing herself to take a breath, to fake a calm, self-assured smile. everything's fine, really. ]
[ she slams the door to the fridge so hard that he takes a step back, worried that she's got something in there that he wasn't supposed to see. she looks like a cornered animal right now and he has no idea what's happened in the span of minutes between getting up off he floor and coming back to find her. ]
Hi.
[ he meets her smile with one of his own before rubbing at the back of his neck with his uninjured arm. ] John knows what's going on. I know we're not talking about it but I told him a few things and he'll call you tomorrow.
[ so, they just had to get through a night without exploding? could they do that? did he even want to do that? he licks his lips, falling into a quiet silence. they were back to that. the quiet, the silence. the not knowing what to say or do not that certain topics were cut off. ]
I can leave you alone if you want to keep looking in the fridge.
[ a feeling she knows pretty well. she doesn't begrudge john for being... well, however he's being. concerned, nervous, angry at her for being involved. she can only guess, and all her guesses aren't exactly positive ones.
but they're not talking about those things right now, so daisy tries her best to keep her voice neutral. calm. unaffected. ]
At least now he won't try to track you down.
[ another memory comes, unbidden. hiding in the woods, having picked up a cheap tent and bedroll from a clearance sale at some outdoor store, sneaking out from their responsibilities in the underground and in the zephyr for a night. thinking they had found privacy for once, only to be interrupted by the tracker himself. john had been embarrassed, but nothing had rivaled the flush across daisy's topless form, clutched behind the thin sheet.
this one makes her laugh, a quiet sound under her breath; the blush on her cheeks tonight only gets redder. ]
Do you remember that? I'd never been so ...
[ so embarrassed. something. her words trail off as her gaze tips up to his, as she takes in the sight of his tongue sweeping over his mouth. distracting, to say the least. ]
I -- I remember. [ how could he not remember that? they'd barely done anything when john had come upon them but it had still been embarrassing and a little ridiculous. he and john hadn't really ever talked about it when he and daisy had said their goodbyes the following morning but ]
Yeah, I remember that. [ he sounds a little breathless in fact. he remembers how her skin had looked under the moonlight and how she'd felt pressed against his back at some point during the night. how the bedroll had been uncomfortable so she'd slept on him at one point and how he'd pressed his face against her stomach and admitted his fears about fatherhood and his kid to her.
they hadn't even broached that subject yet since he'd walked through her door tonight. ]
You'd never been as beautiful as that night. [ a simple, quiet admission. the truth. a fact. his own opinion but it's absolutely what he believes. ]
[ the compliment's a simple one. he's always been generous with them — if not in spite of the fact then perhaps because he couldn't be generous with much else, not with the coffers at the underground so low, not with her standing on the outside of it. he'd always told her what he thought of her, whether it was her looks or her abilities or something else altogether, and when they were together, showered her with reassurances.
tonight's no different, and as if by instinct, daisy smiles back and offers the prompted reply. ] You weren't half-bad yourself.
[ he's not looking any worse for wear tonight, either. shirtless, breathless, scruffy and hair tousled — now that he's no longer wincing in pain or clutching his injuries, he looks more like a man who's... well. that's another memory altogether. one that involves the room just down the hall, many times over, amongst other places here and there. like the floor of this kitchen, for one.
she swallows again, throat a little tight; before she can stop herself, one hand reaches out to curl around one of his, gently pulling him that much closer. ]
Do you ever think about what it was like? When we were together?
[ when they touch, like this. when electricity tingles across her skin, when she practically glows from the inside out, when she can feel the earth trembling beneath their feet. like power, pure power, rushed between them. ]
I tried not to. [ because he'd known it would just make him miserable, thinking about something he couldn't have and why put himself through more torture? but the power of memories are a strong thing and the more he tried not think about her, the more he thought about her.
his eyes fall down to their hands while he steps closer to her, the distance between them slowly disappearing. ]
But I failed. I thought about that a lot. All the time. When I wanted to and when I didn't want to. [ she was not an easy person to forget and he hadn't wanted to forget her. he'd just wanted to put her aside so thinking about her didn't hurt so badly. ]
I still think about you. [ to this day. he was here, wasn't he? ] I don't think I'll ever stop.
[ her thumb brushes over his hand as he talks, soft sweeps over knuckles and the freckled skin against the back of his hand, gentle looping patterns back and forth. touch, even simple like this, is more than they've shared in months. the temptation to break the dam grows only stronger with each moment, but she can't seem to make herself move. ]
I don't want you to stop. [ the words come out almost as a whisper, an echo of a phrase she's murmured in his ears more times than she can count — though with markedly different intentions. a tight swallow, and she manages to speak a little more normally. ] I don't want to stop thinking about you either.
[ whatever that means. thinking about him, caring about him, being with him? how much is she willing to risk to make it happen? ]
[ his eyes stay on their joined hands, watching the journey her fingers make against the back of his hands. over tiny scars and rough spots earned over time and conflict. he sighs, closing his eyes though not for any bad reason. it's just nice to enjoy a touch. ever since their relationship had ended, he hasn't let anyone near him enough to touch like this. ]
Then don't.
[ the words tumble out before he can stop them. he doesn't give himself time to second guess what he's saying, what he's offering, what he's opening himself up to. he just says the first thing that comes to mind and then falls quiet. he gives her hand a squeeze. ]
[ it's a heady proposition. throwing caution to the wind, letting the chips fall where they may, giving in to want and desire and emotions long since shoved deep down away from the light of day, risking the car running off the rails if things don't go well. but she can't deny how much she wants to do it. how much they both seem to want it.
her hand clings tight to his, fingers wrapping around, while the other reaches to skim over the exposed line of his collarbone where his shirt collar might have laid. if he was still wearing a shirt, she'd have grabbed it; instead, daisy wraps a hand around the back of his neck, soft at first and then — as if signaling her own abandon, firmer, giving him no choice but to stumble forward, closing the gap between them until he's a breath away. ]
Okay. [ repeated, whispered. okay, okay, okay. she can do this. ] God, I love you.
[ weird how final that feels to say out loud, as if she hasn't said a variation of it so many times over the course of the evening. how intense the words feel as they slip out of her mouth, bitten off firmly, all pretense lost. she does, though. she loves him more fiercely than she thinks she might love herself. ]
But if you don't kiss me, I'm probably going to scream.
[ and stumble he does but he braces his uninjured arm on the freezer behind her so he doesn't end up falling into her. there's still a breath of space between their bodies but marcos is pretty sure that's about to come to an end. they both want it to and though they've talked a few circles around it for a few minutes, they seem to have come to a solid agreement.
stop talking about what's to come, keep thinking about each other and -- ]
Don't scream.
[ -- and yeah, kiss her. he leans closer, slow at first, still wondering if something is going to happen to stop this. a knock on her door, a phone ringing, a ceiling caving in but when a moment comes and goes and nothing happens, he lets himself believe that he's actually going to be able to have something good.
and so he erases that last bit of space and presses his lips to hers finally. it's tentative, a little cautious but only because he doesn't want to break this spell. it's not going to stay that way, rest assured.
because he remembers how she tastes, how her breath feels and he already wants more. ]
[ slow is... something. probably necessary, she thinks, in whatever corner of her brain is still capable of rational thought right now, for him to adjust. to make sure he doesn't injure himself in the process. but it's very quickly not enough, and so daisy drops her grip on his hand in order to slide both of hers over his shoulders, one going further in order to snake into the hair at the nape of his neck.
it doesn't take much to press herself into that last small sliver of space, or to open her mouth just that much more. it still doesn't feel like enough, not after all this wasted time between the last and today, but it's better. closer is better.
though, after a minute or two, she pulls back, breathless. ]
Don't stop. No matter what.
[ john himself could break through her door right now. doesn't matter. he can wait. everything can wait. ]
[ he nods hurriedly and those words plus her body flush against his body means he throws out any pretense of working things through gradually. her hand's in his hair and he leans forward, capturing her lips in a harder, deeper kiss this time. with the solidity of the refrigerator behind her, marcos leans into her, letting some of his weight settle against her.
he thinks that maybe he should ask if she wants to stay in here or go elsewhere but that would mean stopping the kiss and that would mean more talking and haven't they done enough talking already? logistics could wait.
right now, he was going to kiss by licking into her mouth and curling a hand around the hair falling over her shoulder. god, this day had been so terrible.
[ they don't need to take things slow. they already know, don't they? they've already spent months mapping out each other's bodies, learning exactly where to touch and what to do to make the other come apart. out of practice, maybe, but daisy remembers quickly — memories, here, are helpful.
a soft sound of approval echoes into his mouth, eyes squeezing shut. there's a knock at the door, but she doesn't move, doesn't let up for a second long enough for him to move either. it's just the food delivery guy, she's pretty sure, and she already paid. he can just leave it all at the door, and eventually, sometime later, daisy will get it. or one of her nonexistent neighbors will find it, and she'll order more.
right now, she doesn't care. what she cares about is memorizing the feeling of his body flush against her own, dragging her hands along the lines of his back, leaving red trails as she goes. if this is just once, if tonight is all they have... well, she wants those memories this time. her back presses into the door of the fridge. it's at least not quite as hard as the floor. for that, she's pretty grateful. ]
[ marcos listens well because despite hearing the knock on her door, he doesn't let up. she pulls him close to keep him from wandering away but he'd had no intention of leaving. he's forgotten about the food so he just thinks that whoever's there will just assume she's not home and come back a later time. maybe they'll leave a note.
and if it's john, he'll kick down the door and be treated to the scene which he's scene a million times before. but, it won't be john. john knows what's going on and john wouldn't try and drag him out of here.
when it looks like they're not going to leave the solidity of the fridge for a few seconds, maros reaches down and curve a hand around her thigh, trying to drag it up around his hip so he can press closer in a much more intimate way than he'd been standing before.
[ she'll oblige. whatever he wants to do, whatever demands he makes, she's happy to give in. there's no hesitation in her shifting weight, hands wrapping that much more snugly around his back to support herself as they lean into the fridge.
but goddamn, is that good. the closer he gets, the warmer she feels; the warmer she feels, the more desperately she wants more of whatever he's offering. that heat will bring her to boiling, if she's not careful, and she wants to be able to enjoy that with him. her leg wraps around his, all enthusiasm and encouragement.
after a moment, her head tips back, turning to let the crown of her head press into the cool surface of the freezer door, exposing the column of her throat and the line of her jaw to his wandering mouth. it gives her the opportunity to gasp a much-needed inhale of breath, the exhale heady and all too pleased. ]
[ while's loathe to lose her lips, her neck is just as good and he immediately starts mouth at the smooth slope of skin, tongue sliding down the long column until he can suck at the pulse point thumping against her neck and feel the telltale signs of life there. she's warm and reactive underneath his hands but he's still comforted by that.
he nuzzles against her neck after a moment, nosing his way back up until he can kiss behind her ear before pulling back for a second. ]
Much as I would like to get reacquainted with your kitchen appliances, we might need to move soon. I'm only one armed tonight so I won't be as good at --
[ holding her against things or holding her at all. the pain is barely there but he knows he shouldn't use it until he can make sure it's fully healed. ]
'Kay, [ a breathless whisper, though no less consenting. if it means she has to sit in his lap to accomplish what she wants, very well then. daisy is nothing if not accommodating to his needs right now. ] You know where you're going.
[ because they can walk and kiss at the same time, right? it won't be weird if she cups his face in two hands and kisses him like her life depends on it, enthusiasm and desperation all in one, exhales hot against his skin each time she lifts her mouth to gasp a needy breath.
the bedroom's not far, either. it's a small one bedroom, and the path from the fridge to the kitchen isn't more than a few dozen steps. they may have to stumble over discarded medical supplies, but... well, they can manage. they've done it before, drunk too, on plenty of nights somewhat like this one.
and when her knees do finally hit the telltale low mark of the bed, daisy sinks into the mattress, dragging him down with her. ]
You're not going to just stare at me all night, are you, babe?
[ an old term of endearment, slipping out with meaning to. it feels right, though, so daisy doesn't correct herself. ]
[ it's been months but he still remembers the number of steps it takes to get to her bedroom and he still remembers where little imperfections are on the walls of her apartment. they'd spent a lot of time here because he'd always been moving around, finding and then relocating when sentinel services or someone discovered where they were. so, it's easy to walk that small space, stepping on empty gauze rolls and blister packs on the way.
there's not much difference since the last time he'd been here. maybe his hair's longer and his beard's thicker and his arm's a mess but he still loves her just as much as he did then.
it's a sight to see her on her bed again, waiting for him and he carefully lowers himself on top of her, keeping the bandaged arm up just so no one accidentally karate chops it in reaction to something good. ]
I thought about it.
[ but no, he's not going to do that. he slips a hand underneath her shirt and splays his fingers out on her stomach. ]
[ another night is a dangerous promise, teetering on the edge of a life they can't claim just yet, but daisy doesn't care enough to stop him. she'd rather focus on the sensation of his fingertips ghosting out over her skin, exposing inch after inch of rediscovery.
it seems they've fallen back into the trap of taking it slow. time is a luxury they don't often have, and while part of her very much wants to remind him of the pace that had brought them in her in the first place, she can't quite deny the allure of his eyes skimming over her body, dark with desire. ]
I'm going to hold you to that.
[ another dangerous promise, rashly made, as her hands splay out on either side of her waist. she could rush things, if he wanted; drag her fingers up and around the waistband of his jeans, or along the hem of her shirt, but she's willing to play ball for now. indulge him in slow, if that's what he wants. for now. ]
[ and he knows that patience isn't always a strong suit in certain situations. like this particular situation right here. he's not being slow on purpose but he can't help but be a little awed and amazed that this has happened at all. that he's in her bed and she's underneath him and it's not because they're trying to kill each other. ]
I wonder how long that'll last. [ he pushes the edge of her shirt up, exposing more and more skin until he gives it a tug to try and get her to just take it off. if he'd had the use of both hands, he'd wrangle it off her himself but watching her take it off while he's right there is almost just as good. ]
A few minutes would be my best guess. [ probably not even that long. ]
[ be proud of her restraint, marcos. it's a battle she finds herself slowly losing with each crawl of her shirt up across her belly, but she's trying her best here. the invitation (or request, either way) to remove said article herself is easily one she wants very much to meet.
the offending shirt in question is tugged off with little more than a shrug of her shoulders, betraying the nothing that was underneath. just skin, warm to the touch and flushed, now bare. she's not really the type to be shy about her body, anyway, but tonight it seems to matter even less. he's already seen it.
but there's something about the way he looks at her that makes her feel like he's doing more than just undressing her for practicality's sake. ]
Do you want me to beg you, is that it?
[ teasing... but there's some truth to it, too. memories of things he liked, of things they did together, flit to the surface. ]
[ not tonight. he's not going to deny that he'd liked when they'd played at that, when he'd tried to make her beg and plead and want him so badly she came out of her skin but that's not what he wants tonight. ]
I just like to look at you. [ is that so bad? besides, he's been without a shirt for awhile now. only fair that he takes some time to admire her since she'd gotten all that time to admire him even if part of that was spent looking at his arm. ]
I just wanted to look at you for a second. It's been awhile. [ a few weeks. maybe a month or two? too long either way. ] No new tattoos, I see.
[ okay fine, he's done teasing. he leans down and ghosts a kiss against her mouth, pulling back out of her reach before bowing forward again and kissing her properly finally. ]
[ there's a brief stillness as daisy blinks, a bashful smile slowly pushing across her face, faint color in the apples of her cheeks. the compliment catches her by surprise, unexpected even as he very clearly enjoys the view; by the time he tips her backwards into the bed, she's very glad for the sudden diversion.
even if it means him ghosting away for just a moment before coming right back in again, mouth hot against her own. that, she can appreciate — and perhaps more importantly, she can show her appreciation now, hands reaching up to sprawl out over his now bare back, nails pressing in to leave little half-moon indentations as she tugs him in.
at one point, when air becomes a necessity, she murmurs against the shell of his ear: ] I like when you look at me.
[ god, he hopes. even now, thoughts creep into his head that he's not sure he's going to be able to give this up if john and everyone else decides that this is going to be a no go. he has no idea how he's going to let himself have this tonight, let all those buried feelings and pushed away memories come back to the forefront and then possibly walk away.
he really doesn't know if he'll be able to do it. not again. ]
But, I've probably looked enough, hmm? [ she was letting him have his fun but it's probably time to stop wasting the hours they have left so he moves down and captures her lips in another, harder kiss this time. ]
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once that was done, he made his way through the apartment, eventually finding daisy in the kitchen. the pain in his arm is almost nonexistent and he barely realizes he still doesn't have his shirt on. he could go and find that, put it back on, make things a little easier but it's ruined anyway.
he comes to stand behind her, leaving a few feet of space between them. ]
What are you doing?
[ he doesn't think he'll startle her but he keeps his voice quiet anyway. he shifts a little to peer over her shoulder and see what was so interesting inside the fridge. ]
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his voice startles her, and daisy spins around, shutting the fridge behind her with a slam. a flush blooms red over her cheeks and down the column of her neck as she takes a step backwards, her shoulders bumping into the freezer's top door. what was she doing? how does she answer that? ]
I was just... thinking, um. About what was in there, I guess.
[ not the best excuse. now that she's face to face with him again, it becomes even more painfully obvious that he's shirtless (if not a little bandaged on one side). why is that so difficult to tear her eyes away from?
maybe swallowing will help. forcing herself to take a breath, to fake a calm, self-assured smile. everything's fine, really. ]
Hi.
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Hi.
[ he meets her smile with one of his own before rubbing at the back of his neck with his uninjured arm. ] John knows what's going on. I know we're not talking about it but I told him a few things and he'll call you tomorrow.
[ so, they just had to get through a night without exploding? could they do that? did he even want to do that? he licks his lips, falling into a quiet silence. they were back to that. the quiet, the silence. the not knowing what to say or do not that certain topics were cut off. ]
I can leave you alone if you want to keep looking in the fridge.
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[ a feeling she knows pretty well. she doesn't begrudge john for being... well, however he's being. concerned, nervous, angry at her for being involved. she can only guess, and all her guesses aren't exactly positive ones.
but they're not talking about those things right now, so daisy tries her best to keep her voice neutral. calm. unaffected. ]
At least now he won't try to track you down.
[ another memory comes, unbidden. hiding in the woods, having picked up a cheap tent and bedroll from a clearance sale at some outdoor store, sneaking out from their responsibilities in the underground and in the zephyr for a night. thinking they had found privacy for once, only to be interrupted by the tracker himself. john had been embarrassed, but nothing had rivaled the flush across daisy's topless form, clutched behind the thin sheet.
this one makes her laugh, a quiet sound under her breath; the blush on her cheeks tonight only gets redder. ]
Do you remember that? I'd never been so ...
[ so embarrassed. something. her words trail off as her gaze tips up to his, as she takes in the sight of his tongue sweeping over his mouth. distracting, to say the least. ]
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Yeah, I remember that. [ he sounds a little breathless in fact. he remembers how her skin had looked under the moonlight and how she'd felt pressed against his back at some point during the night. how the bedroll had been uncomfortable so she'd slept on him at one point and how he'd pressed his face against her stomach and admitted his fears about fatherhood and his kid to her.
they hadn't even broached that subject yet since he'd walked through her door tonight. ]
You'd never been as beautiful as that night. [ a simple, quiet admission. the truth. a fact. his own opinion but it's absolutely what he believes. ]
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tonight's no different, and as if by instinct, daisy smiles back and offers the prompted reply. ] You weren't half-bad yourself.
[ he's not looking any worse for wear tonight, either. shirtless, breathless, scruffy and hair tousled — now that he's no longer wincing in pain or clutching his injuries, he looks more like a man who's... well. that's another memory altogether. one that involves the room just down the hall, many times over, amongst other places here and there. like the floor of this kitchen, for one.
she swallows again, throat a little tight; before she can stop herself, one hand reaches out to curl around one of his, gently pulling him that much closer. ]
Do you ever think about what it was like? When we were together?
[ when they touch, like this. when electricity tingles across her skin, when she practically glows from the inside out, when she can feel the earth trembling beneath their feet. like power, pure power, rushed between them. ]
I think about it all the time.
[ in bed, alone. ]
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his eyes fall down to their hands while he steps closer to her, the distance between them slowly disappearing. ]
But I failed. I thought about that a lot. All the time. When I wanted to and when I didn't want to. [ she was not an easy person to forget and he hadn't wanted to forget her. he'd just wanted to put her aside so thinking about her didn't hurt so badly. ]
I still think about you. [ to this day. he was here, wasn't he? ] I don't think I'll ever stop.
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I don't want you to stop. [ the words come out almost as a whisper, an echo of a phrase she's murmured in his ears more times than she can count — though with markedly different intentions. a tight swallow, and she manages to speak a little more normally. ] I don't want to stop thinking about you either.
[ whatever that means. thinking about him, caring about him, being with him? how much is she willing to risk to make it happen? ]
I don't think I could stop if I wanted to.
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Then don't.
[ the words tumble out before he can stop them. he doesn't give himself time to second guess what he's saying, what he's offering, what he's opening himself up to. he just says the first thing that comes to mind and then falls quiet. he gives her hand a squeeze. ]
Then, don't stop.
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her hand clings tight to his, fingers wrapping around, while the other reaches to skim over the exposed line of his collarbone where his shirt collar might have laid. if he was still wearing a shirt, she'd have grabbed it; instead, daisy wraps a hand around the back of his neck, soft at first and then — as if signaling her own abandon, firmer, giving him no choice but to stumble forward, closing the gap between them until he's a breath away. ]
Okay. [ repeated, whispered. okay, okay, okay. she can do this. ] God, I love you.
[ weird how final that feels to say out loud, as if she hasn't said a variation of it so many times over the course of the evening. how intense the words feel as they slip out of her mouth, bitten off firmly, all pretense lost. she does, though. she loves him more fiercely than she thinks she might love herself. ]
But if you don't kiss me, I'm probably going to scream.
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stop talking about what's to come, keep thinking about each other and -- ]
Don't scream.
[ -- and yeah, kiss her. he leans closer, slow at first, still wondering if something is going to happen to stop this. a knock on her door, a phone ringing, a ceiling caving in but when a moment comes and goes and nothing happens, he lets himself believe that he's actually going to be able to have something good.
and so he erases that last bit of space and presses his lips to hers finally. it's tentative, a little cautious but only because he doesn't want to break this spell. it's not going to stay that way, rest assured.
because he remembers how she tastes, how her breath feels and he already wants more. ]
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it doesn't take much to press herself into that last small sliver of space, or to open her mouth just that much more. it still doesn't feel like enough, not after all this wasted time between the last and today, but it's better. closer is better.
though, after a minute or two, she pulls back, breathless. ]
Don't stop. No matter what.
[ john himself could break through her door right now. doesn't matter. he can wait. everything can wait. ]
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[ he nods hurriedly and those words plus her body flush against his body means he throws out any pretense of working things through gradually. her hand's in his hair and he leans forward, capturing her lips in a harder, deeper kiss this time. with the solidity of the refrigerator behind her, marcos leans into her, letting some of his weight settle against her.
he thinks that maybe he should ask if she wants to stay in here or go elsewhere but that would mean stopping the kiss and that would mean more talking and haven't they done enough talking already? logistics could wait.
right now, he was going to kiss by licking into her mouth and curling a hand around the hair falling over her shoulder. god, this day had been so terrible.
but this night was -- something else. ]
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a soft sound of approval echoes into his mouth, eyes squeezing shut. there's a knock at the door, but she doesn't move, doesn't let up for a second long enough for him to move either. it's just the food delivery guy, she's pretty sure, and she already paid. he can just leave it all at the door, and eventually, sometime later, daisy will get it. or one of her nonexistent neighbors will find it, and she'll order more.
right now, she doesn't care. what she cares about is memorizing the feeling of his body flush against her own, dragging her hands along the lines of his back, leaving red trails as she goes. if this is just once, if tonight is all they have... well, she wants those memories this time. her back presses into the door of the fridge. it's at least not quite as hard as the floor. for that, she's pretty grateful. ]
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and if it's john, he'll kick down the door and be treated to the scene which he's scene a million times before. but, it won't be john. john knows what's going on and john wouldn't try and drag him out of here.
when it looks like they're not going to leave the solidity of the fridge for a few seconds, maros reaches down and curve a hand around her thigh, trying to drag it up around his hip so he can press closer in a much more intimate way than he'd been standing before.
fuck slow. he was done with slow. ]
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but goddamn, is that good. the closer he gets, the warmer she feels; the warmer she feels, the more desperately she wants more of whatever he's offering. that heat will bring her to boiling, if she's not careful, and she wants to be able to enjoy that with him. her leg wraps around his, all enthusiasm and encouragement.
after a moment, her head tips back, turning to let the crown of her head press into the cool surface of the freezer door, exposing the column of her throat and the line of her jaw to his wandering mouth. it gives her the opportunity to gasp a much-needed inhale of breath, the exhale heady and all too pleased. ]
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he nuzzles against her neck after a moment, nosing his way back up until he can kiss behind her ear before pulling back for a second. ]
Much as I would like to get reacquainted with your kitchen appliances, we might need to move soon. I'm only one armed tonight so I won't be as good at --
[ holding her against things or holding her at all. the pain is barely there but he knows he shouldn't use it until he can make sure it's fully healed. ]
I'm not saying to stop. I just want us to move.
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[ because they can walk and kiss at the same time, right? it won't be weird if she cups his face in two hands and kisses him like her life depends on it, enthusiasm and desperation all in one, exhales hot against his skin each time she lifts her mouth to gasp a needy breath.
the bedroom's not far, either. it's a small one bedroom, and the path from the fridge to the kitchen isn't more than a few dozen steps. they may have to stumble over discarded medical supplies, but... well, they can manage. they've done it before, drunk too, on plenty of nights somewhat like this one.
and when her knees do finally hit the telltale low mark of the bed, daisy sinks into the mattress, dragging him down with her. ]
You're not going to just stare at me all night, are you, babe?
[ an old term of endearment, slipping out with meaning to. it feels right, though, so daisy doesn't correct herself. ]
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there's not much difference since the last time he'd been here. maybe his hair's longer and his beard's thicker and his arm's a mess but he still loves her just as much as he did then.
it's a sight to see her on her bed again, waiting for him and he carefully lowers himself on top of her, keeping the bandaged arm up just so no one accidentally karate chops it in reaction to something good. ]
I thought about it.
[ but no, he's not going to do that. he slips a hand underneath her shirt and splays his fingers out on her stomach. ]
Maybe another night I will.
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it seems they've fallen back into the trap of taking it slow. time is a luxury they don't often have, and while part of her very much wants to remind him of the pace that had brought them in her in the first place, she can't quite deny the allure of his eyes skimming over her body, dark with desire. ]
I'm going to hold you to that.
[ another dangerous promise, rashly made, as her hands splay out on either side of her waist. she could rush things, if he wanted; drag her fingers up and around the waistband of his jeans, or along the hem of her shirt, but she's willing to play ball for now. indulge him in slow, if that's what he wants. for now. ]
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[ and he knows that patience isn't always a strong suit in certain situations. like this particular situation right here. he's not being slow on purpose but he can't help but be a little awed and amazed that this has happened at all. that he's in her bed and she's underneath him and it's not because they're trying to kill each other. ]
I wonder how long that'll last. [ he pushes the edge of her shirt up, exposing more and more skin until he gives it a tug to try and get her to just take it off. if he'd had the use of both hands, he'd wrangle it off her himself but watching her take it off while he's right there is almost just as good. ]
A few minutes would be my best guess. [ probably not even that long. ]
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[ be proud of her restraint, marcos. it's a battle she finds herself slowly losing with each crawl of her shirt up across her belly, but she's trying her best here. the invitation (or request, either way) to remove said article herself is easily one she wants very much to meet.
the offending shirt in question is tugged off with little more than a shrug of her shoulders, betraying the nothing that was underneath. just skin, warm to the touch and flushed, now bare. she's not really the type to be shy about her body, anyway, but tonight it seems to matter even less. he's already seen it.
but there's something about the way he looks at her that makes her feel like he's doing more than just undressing her for practicality's sake. ]
Do you want me to beg you, is that it?
[ teasing... but there's some truth to it, too. memories of things he liked, of things they did together, flit to the surface. ]
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[ not tonight. he's not going to deny that he'd liked when they'd played at that, when he'd tried to make her beg and plead and want him so badly she came out of her skin but that's not what he wants tonight. ]
I just like to look at you. [ is that so bad? besides, he's been without a shirt for awhile now. only fair that he takes some time to admire her since she'd gotten all that time to admire him even if part of that was spent looking at his arm. ]
I just wanted to look at you for a second. It's been awhile. [ a few weeks. maybe a month or two? too long either way. ] No new tattoos, I see.
[ okay fine, he's done teasing. he leans down and ghosts a kiss against her mouth, pulling back out of her reach before bowing forward again and kissing her properly finally. ]
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[ there's a brief stillness as daisy blinks, a bashful smile slowly pushing across her face, faint color in the apples of her cheeks. the compliment catches her by surprise, unexpected even as he very clearly enjoys the view; by the time he tips her backwards into the bed, she's very glad for the sudden diversion.
even if it means him ghosting away for just a moment before coming right back in again, mouth hot against her own. that, she can appreciate — and perhaps more importantly, she can show her appreciation now, hands reaching up to sprawl out over his now bare back, nails pressing in to leave little half-moon indentations as she tugs him in.
at one point, when air becomes a necessity, she murmurs against the shell of his ear: ] I like when you look at me.
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[ god, he hopes. even now, thoughts creep into his head that he's not sure he's going to be able to give this up if john and everyone else decides that this is going to be a no go. he has no idea how he's going to let himself have this tonight, let all those buried feelings and pushed away memories come back to the forefront and then possibly walk away.
he really doesn't know if he'll be able to do it. not again. ]
But, I've probably looked enough, hmm? [ she was letting him have his fun but it's probably time to stop wasting the hours they have left so he moves down and captures her lips in another, harder kiss this time. ]
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