[ much. he doesn't tease much. maybe he's found the ability to tease her once or twice a week but it is definitely not something he peppers into everyday speech with just anyone. how she has brought that side out of him in such a short amount of time he does not know.
he doesn't know how she's done a lot of what she's done to him but he's not questioning it either. it's there and he greedily doesn't her to take it away. not when he's never really felt like this before. ]
I meant what I said. When you are ready.
[ he absolutely knows what's going to come out of her mouth next. ]
[ he knew she'd say that from the beginning. she's been ready for a long time. wanting him to show her how much he wants her, wanting him to let go of the control that held a vice grip on his heart and his head, wanting him — that's been a truth for a long time. longer than daisy's truly ready to admit.
for right now, she offers the most immediate truth, and hopes that's enough. ]
[ maybe one day he wouldn't be surprised that she still wanted him. maybe he'd even learn to accept that this wasn't going away and maybe it was even growing stronger (on his side of things, at least).
he closes the gap between them and kisses her, soft and gentle and longing, before pulling back and opening his eyes to look at her. ]
I don't usually do this sort of thing. [ let go. lose that control when not in situations that required violence and bloodshed. ] But, I'm going to try. I want to try.
I know. [ quiet, soft; a tenderness to her voice that seems to only make an appearance in moments like these, when their bodies are so close anything else would feel like shouting.
she's seen him lose control in other ways before. she's seen anger take over, the way his whole body tenses, as if shedding some preordained rule of composure in order to accomplish a mission. that's not what she wants. that's not what she's asking for, and so she tries to clarify. ]
Sometimes, it feels like you hold back when you touch me, and I know — I know it's not because you don't want to, it's because you're afraid you'll hurt me … but, Illya — [ she exhales, a hand reaching up to brush over his jaw, her thumb skimming over the corner of his mouth ] I know you're not going to hurt me.
[ a small smile, quiet and reassuring, punctuates her words. ]
You don't have to ask my permission to touch me. You have it. Tonight, tomorrow … whenever you need to, I'm right here. If you want to, I want you to.
[ just like she wants to kiss him, sure and full of promises that they know better than to make right now, her palm still cupping his face. ]
[ he hopes that's obvious. she doesn't seem to be questioning his desire, thankfully, but more how he goes about things. how he touches her versus touching her in general. ]
It's not something that I realize that I am doing. It just happens. [ he holds back because she is too good and he doesn't want to ruin that, ruin her. he closes his eyes when she kisses him, sighing and staying just like that when she moves away.
eventually, he does open his eyes again, exhaling quietly. ]
You trust me more than I trust myself. [ because he knows what he is capable of doing. he knows what some doctor has labeled him as and he knows what words describe him in a file somewhere. ]
[ someday, they'll have a long conversation about doctors and diagnoses and files. it'll probably happen in this bed, too, after a long day, tangled up under sheets and voices so low they might as well be whispers. but it won't happen tonight.
tonight, daisy just shakes her head, a quiet chuckle escaping between her lips. ]
Plus, you know I can take you. [ in the ring, in this bed. doesn't matter. they're well-matched in that regard. ] I'd kick your ass from here to Moscow if you tried anything stupid and you know it.
[ but she doesn't have to worry about that, because she trusts him. because he's proven, time and again, that he'll do anything to keep her safe, that he cares about her, that he wants her to be happy. hurting her doesn't accomplish any of those things. ]
no comment but he's pretty sure he hasn't out and out admitted that she could take him in the ring or in bed. or maybe he has admitted that she could take him in bed (in more ways than one) but in the ring is a different story. ]
I do not know if that's true. [ he slides forward, leaning in to press a kiss against one of side of her mouth and then the other. ] I do not know if you can even reach my ass.
[ was that a short joke? yes and it had just come out of his mouth. he's pretty proud of himself, if he's honest. ]
Wow. Wow. [ a poor attempt at deadpan, a failure mostly because she can't keep the laughter out of her voice. ] You're so funny, babe. I guess I'll just have to use the step-stool, then.
[ you know, the one in the kitchen that she has to use to get the dishes off the top shelf when he won't get off the couch to help her? that one. ]
Or you could stay here, you know. I can reach everything just fine from here.
[ like his mouth, or the line of his jaw, or the rough scratch of his beard against her palm. the latter especially. ]
I cannot stay in bed just so you'll be the same height as me.
[ much as he was enjoying what she was doing while they were on the same level. he turns his face into her palm, letting the stubble scrape a little more firmly against her hand. he's still not sure about this beard but she seems to like it so that's incentive enough for him to keep it.
for now. ]
But even if you cannot reach me, I can reach you just fine. [ he does his best not to jostle her hands while reaching one of his own up to push some of her hair back behind her ear before trailing two fingers down her cheek and neck over to the slope of her shoulder. ]
Why not? [ it was nice and warm in bed, she was relaxed, he was clearly in a good mood. they could just stay here forever, right? (wrong, but let her daydream for a hot second, she deserves it.) ] This is more comfortable than standing on a ladder.
[ which is admittedly ridiculous. but it's what he gets for being eleven inches taller. ]
I do like when you reach me, though.
[ hummed out over a low exhale as his fingers skim over her skin, tracing a familiar path. not quite goosebumps, but her eyes close all the same, content to let him linger in that quiet softness for a little bit longer. ]
[ because it was clearly a fault on her end and not his. there were plenty of people who were as tall as him and while he had only seen one other who came close, there bound to be others. he was not an anomaly. ]
There is a lot of you to reach. [ considering she was still completely naked and he was still half dressed. he lets his eyes skim over her, going from head to toe and back up again before another smile makes its way onto his face. ]
You're lovely. [ she knows that, right? he hopes she knows that. ] Very lovely.
she knows he finds her attractive — obviously — but she doesn't expect the quiet appreciation that seems to come with his words. her eyes flutter open, a surprised smile curving over her mouth as she peers up at him. there's a long beat of silence in which daisy just smiles, warm and soft and inexplicably fond, as she lets a hand reach up to tangle with one of his. ]
You're not so bad yourself.
[ not by a long shot. ]
Edited (wow i am really good at words today) 2019-02-26 02:01 (UTC)
That is usually not something people notice about me.
[ it was true. but, it was probably true because most of the time illya either kept himself to the shadows and no one ever saw him or he was confronting someone with a flurry of violence thus making his physical appearance the last thing on their mind.
he gives her hand a squeeze and then shifts, moving to lay down on his stomach beside her. he knows he's supposed to be doing something else and he will get to it but she's smiling and it is a nie thing that he wants to enjoy for a moment.
she smiles with her entire face and he is both enthralled and fascinated by the whole thing. by her. by everything about her. ]
[ she's nearly forgotten their agreement. her body is relaxed, flushed from exertion and still a little jello-y post orgasm, and in the sweetness of their conversation, daisy's one-track-mind seems to have diverted off course in the nicest of ways.
she's not complaining.
no, she's all too happy to squeeze back, to scoot just that much closer as he lays next to her; her free hand dips to trace the line of his jaw, enjoying the sensation of that growing-in beard beneath her fingertips. ]
That was the first thing I noticed, actually. [ she hasn't told him this before. it comes out a confession, whispered, a hint of something blooming on her cheeks. ] I ... honestly, I saw you and I just really wanted an excuse to say hi so I could stare at you a little more without being a weirdo across the room.
[ so she'd strong-armed him into a game of checkers, because that had been a logical choice. ]
[ he has never known anyone to be so fascinated by facial hair. but it seems like every time he gets close, she has her hands on his face, stroking them up and down his cheeks and chin and neck. he's not complaining but if there was ever a good argument as to why he shouldn't save, it was this right here.
he leans into the touch, humming quietly because the walls he keeps up to keep everyone out don't seem to exist with her. she has a key. ]
You...did?
[ genuine surprise. he remembers their first meeting, of course, but he'd thought she'd come over because of how noticeable he was in just being new. the hair, the look of confusion, and just how generally out of place he must have appeared. ]
[ she could have picked out any number of new arrivals looking bewildered and confused, after all. she had, in fact; daisy had spent a lot of time around then meeting new people, introducing them to the safehouse and offering assistance where she could. but illya... well. she'd been detoured when she'd spotted him. and now look where they were. ]
I wasn't going to tell you then, obviously. It would have been weird.
[ actually, it probably would have been more normal than bullying him into a game of checkers and then provoking him into losing, but. well. daisy wasn't very good at normal people things, obviously. ]
[ in fact, he probably would have gotten angry and accused her of laughing at him. and considering what he knows of her now, that would have just led to a giant argument right there in the safehouse because she doesn't back down and the only time he does is when he shuts down. ]
It is almost hard to believe now. [ that his looks had gotten her attention. that she'd been struck by him at all. it is just so — it does not happen to him. it happens to people like solo, not him.
he pillows his arms and rests his chin on them so he can look at her a little more comfortably. ] It was the most interesting game of checkers I have ever played.
Well, you did lose pretty spectacularly. [ will she ever stop teasing him about that? probably not. ] I had just figured it was your first game.
[ she'd only met solo for a brief second or two, and really hadn't liked him very much at all. had she gotten to know him, she probably would have decided she definitely didn't like him. he was too arrogant for her taste in all the wrong sort of ways. a playboy who knew he was attractive and used it. only without good hair. the buzzcut wasn't a good look on him.
but illya... well. she can't help but smile as he settles next to her, looking relaxed and comfortable in a way that's especially rare. a hand reaches out to rest against his own, fingertips tracing along the side, and she poses a quiet question. ]
Are you happy? With the way things turned out, I mean. [ even with the arguments — they'll never stop arguing, not completely; they're too stubborn and bullheaded to ever truly let those go ] Are you happy we played checkers?
[ that is a question with a remarkably easy answer. ]
Yes.
[ he would have, of course, been lying to think that one game of checkers would have eventually led to her being in his bed months later but it is not a turn of events that he is unhappy with. he would have been happy with just that one time, that first time when he'd tried to cook before they'd become preoccupied. even if that had been the only tim, he would have been happy and held the night in close regard.
he would have never admitted that to anyone, though, thinking a connection of any sort a weakness.
and while he still thinks it's dangerous now, he's let himself fall too far too pull back now. ]
I hate the game of checkers and I hate losing but I do not mind what happened after that initial game. [ he would have maybe taken out the part of her getting hurt and then disappearing but she had healed and she was back. ]
Happiness is...a somewhat foreign concept for me. I do not even know if I understand what it feels like. But, I like what I am feeling now.
[ she understands. this kind of happiness — laying here with him, content and warm and cozy — is fleeting and brief, the sort of moment daisy commits to memory; it isn't expected to last or to linger, but rather to fade into the realities of their lives by morning. they expect to look over their shoulders and be faced with a crisis, a disaster in the making or a spike of danger in the distance, and to sacrifice their own happiness for the time being to handle it.
living in it, having that happiness be the standard rather than the exception, feels foreign. it's unfamiliar ground, and so they both stumble, uncertain of the rules or the allowances.
but daisy wouldn't change it. even now, she's content to simply hum her agreement, shifting to lay flat on her back again, free hand reaching to pull a pillow under her head. ]
I like it too. [ her head tips to the side in order to smile a little more warmly in his direction, the hand that'd been tracing his pausing to squeeze. ] Being here with you. It's probably the best part of my day.
[ perhaps one day he will not be so surprised when she directs something like that to him. today is not that day. the surprise doesn't show on his face, thankfully, because he doesn't want to explain why it keeps catching him off guard.
one day. it will go along with conversations about doctors and diagnoses and everything else being left unsaid for the time being. ]
Good.
[ god, don't make him blush. it looks strange on his face. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ much. he doesn't tease much. maybe he's found the ability to tease her once or twice a week but it is definitely not something he peppers into everyday speech with just anyone. how she has brought that side out of him in such a short amount of time he does not know.
he doesn't know how she's done a lot of what she's done to him but he's not questioning it either. it's there and he greedily doesn't her to take it away. not when he's never really felt like this before. ]
I meant what I said. When you are ready.
[ he absolutely knows what's going to come out of her mouth next. ]
no subject
[ he knew she'd say that from the beginning. she's been ready for a long time. wanting him to show her how much he wants her, wanting him to let go of the control that held a vice grip on his heart and his head, wanting him — that's been a truth for a long time. longer than daisy's truly ready to admit.
for right now, she offers the most immediate truth, and hopes that's enough. ]
I said I wanted you. I meant it.
no subject
[ maybe one day he wouldn't be surprised that she still wanted him. maybe he'd even learn to accept that this wasn't going away and maybe it was even growing stronger (on his side of things, at least).
he closes the gap between them and kisses her, soft and gentle and longing, before pulling back and opening his eyes to look at her. ]
I don't usually do this sort of thing. [ let go. lose that control when not in situations that required violence and bloodshed. ] But, I'm going to try. I want to try.
no subject
she's seen him lose control in other ways before. she's seen anger take over, the way his whole body tenses, as if shedding some preordained rule of composure in order to accomplish a mission. that's not what she wants. that's not what she's asking for, and so she tries to clarify. ]
Sometimes, it feels like you hold back when you touch me, and I know — I know it's not because you don't want to, it's because you're afraid you'll hurt me … but, Illya — [ she exhales, a hand reaching up to brush over his jaw, her thumb skimming over the corner of his mouth ] I know you're not going to hurt me.
[ a small smile, quiet and reassuring, punctuates her words. ]
You don't have to ask my permission to touch me. You have it. Tonight, tomorrow … whenever you need to, I'm right here. If you want to, I want you to.
[ just like she wants to kiss him, sure and full of promises that they know better than to make right now, her palm still cupping his face. ]
no subject
[ he hopes that's obvious. she doesn't seem to be questioning his desire, thankfully, but more how he goes about things. how he touches her versus touching her in general. ]
It's not something that I realize that I am doing. It just happens. [ he holds back because she is too good and he doesn't want to ruin that, ruin her. he closes his eyes when she kisses him, sighing and staying just like that when she moves away.
eventually, he does open his eyes again, exhaling quietly. ]
You trust me more than I trust myself. [ because he knows what he is capable of doing. he knows what some doctor has labeled him as and he knows what words describe him in a file somewhere. ]
no subject
[ someday, they'll have a long conversation about doctors and diagnoses and files. it'll probably happen in this bed, too, after a long day, tangled up under sheets and voices so low they might as well be whispers. but it won't happen tonight.
tonight, daisy just shakes her head, a quiet chuckle escaping between her lips. ]
Plus, you know I can take you. [ in the ring, in this bed. doesn't matter. they're well-matched in that regard. ] I'd kick your ass from here to Moscow if you tried anything stupid and you know it.
[ but she doesn't have to worry about that, because she trusts him. because he's proven, time and again, that he'll do anything to keep her safe, that he cares about her, that he wants her to be happy. hurting her doesn't accomplish any of those things. ]
no subject
[ when had he admitted that? was it true?
...
no comment but he's pretty sure he hasn't out and out admitted that she could take him in the ring or in bed. or maybe he has admitted that she could take him in bed (in more ways than one) but in the ring is a different story. ]
I do not know if that's true. [ he slides forward, leaning in to press a kiss against one of side of her mouth and then the other. ] I do not know if you can even reach my ass.
[ was that a short joke? yes and it had just come out of his mouth. he's pretty proud of himself, if he's honest. ]
no subject
[ you know, the one in the kitchen that she has to use to get the dishes off the top shelf when he won't get off the couch to help her? that one. ]
Or you could stay here, you know. I can reach everything just fine from here.
[ like his mouth, or the line of his jaw, or the rough scratch of his beard against her palm. the latter especially. ]
no subject
[ much as he was enjoying what she was doing while they were on the same level. he turns his face into her palm, letting the stubble scrape a little more firmly against her hand. he's still not sure about this beard but she seems to like it so that's incentive enough for him to keep it.
for now. ]
But even if you cannot reach me, I can reach you just fine. [ he does his best not to jostle her hands while reaching one of his own up to push some of her hair back behind her ear before trailing two fingers down her cheek and neck over to the slope of her shoulder. ]
no subject
[ which is admittedly ridiculous. but it's what he gets for being eleven inches taller. ]
I do like when you reach me, though.
[ hummed out over a low exhale as his fingers skim over her skin, tracing a familiar path. not quite goosebumps, but her eyes close all the same, content to let him linger in that quiet softness for a little bit longer. ]
no subject
[ because it was clearly a fault on her end and not his. there were plenty of people who were as tall as him and while he had only seen one other who came close, there bound to be others. he was not an anomaly. ]
There is a lot of you to reach. [ considering she was still completely naked and he was still half dressed. he lets his eyes skim over her, going from head to toe and back up again before another smile makes its way onto his face. ]
You're lovely. [ she knows that, right? he hopes she knows that. ] Very lovely.
no subject
she knows he finds her attractive — obviously — but she doesn't expect the quiet appreciation that seems to come with his words. her eyes flutter open, a surprised smile curving over her mouth as she peers up at him. there's a long beat of silence in which daisy just smiles, warm and soft and inexplicably fond, as she lets a hand reach up to tangle with one of his. ]
You're not so bad yourself.
[ not by a long shot. ]
no subject
[ it was true. but, it was probably true because most of the time illya either kept himself to the shadows and no one ever saw him or he was confronting someone with a flurry of violence thus making his physical appearance the last thing on their mind.
he gives her hand a squeeze and then shifts, moving to lay down on his stomach beside her. he knows he's supposed to be doing something else and he will get to it but she's smiling and it is a nie thing that he wants to enjoy for a moment.
she smiles with her entire face and he is both enthralled and fascinated by the whole thing. by her. by everything about her. ]
no subject
she's not complaining.
no, she's all too happy to squeeze back, to scoot just that much closer as he lays next to her; her free hand dips to trace the line of his jaw, enjoying the sensation of that growing-in beard beneath her fingertips. ]
That was the first thing I noticed, actually. [ she hasn't told him this before. it comes out a confession, whispered, a hint of something blooming on her cheeks. ] I ... honestly, I saw you and I just really wanted an excuse to say hi so I could stare at you a little more without being a weirdo across the room.
[ so she'd strong-armed him into a game of checkers, because that had been a logical choice. ]
no subject
he leans into the touch, humming quietly because the walls he keeps up to keep everyone out don't seem to exist with her. she has a key. ]
You...did?
[ genuine surprise. he remembers their first meeting, of course, but he'd thought she'd come over because of how noticeable he was in just being new. the hair, the look of confusion, and just how generally out of place he must have appeared. ]
I did not know that.
[ because she hadn't told him, duh. ]
no subject
[ she could have picked out any number of new arrivals looking bewildered and confused, after all. she had, in fact; daisy had spent a lot of time around then meeting new people, introducing them to the safehouse and offering assistance where she could. but illya... well. she'd been detoured when she'd spotted him. and now look where they were. ]
I wasn't going to tell you then, obviously. It would have been weird.
[ actually, it probably would have been more normal than bullying him into a game of checkers and then provoking him into losing, but. well. daisy wasn't very good at normal people things, obviously. ]
no subject
[ in fact, he probably would have gotten angry and accused her of laughing at him. and considering what he knows of her now, that would have just led to a giant argument right there in the safehouse because she doesn't back down and the only time he does is when he shuts down. ]
It is almost hard to believe now. [ that his looks had gotten her attention. that she'd been struck by him at all. it is just so — it does not happen to him. it happens to people like solo, not him.
he pillows his arms and rests his chin on them so he can look at her a little more comfortably. ] It was the most interesting game of checkers I have ever played.
no subject
[ she'd only met solo for a brief second or two, and really hadn't liked him very much at all. had she gotten to know him, she probably would have decided she definitely didn't like him. he was too arrogant for her taste in all the wrong sort of ways. a playboy who knew he was attractive and used it. only without good hair. the buzzcut wasn't a good look on him.
but illya... well. she can't help but smile as he settles next to her, looking relaxed and comfortable in a way that's especially rare. a hand reaches out to rest against his own, fingertips tracing along the side, and she poses a quiet question. ]
Are you happy? With the way things turned out, I mean. [ even with the arguments — they'll never stop arguing, not completely; they're too stubborn and bullheaded to ever truly let those go ] Are you happy we played checkers?
no subject
Yes.
[ he would have, of course, been lying to think that one game of checkers would have eventually led to her being in his bed months later but it is not a turn of events that he is unhappy with. he would have been happy with just that one time, that first time when he'd tried to cook before they'd become preoccupied. even if that had been the only tim, he would have been happy and held the night in close regard.
he would have never admitted that to anyone, though, thinking a connection of any sort a weakness.
and while he still thinks it's dangerous now, he's let himself fall too far too pull back now. ]
I hate the game of checkers and I hate losing but I do not mind what happened after that initial game. [ he would have maybe taken out the part of her getting hurt and then disappearing but she had healed and she was back. ]
Happiness is...a somewhat foreign concept for me. I do not even know if I understand what it feels like. But, I like what I am feeling now.
no subject
living in it, having that happiness be the standard rather than the exception, feels foreign. it's unfamiliar ground, and so they both stumble, uncertain of the rules or the allowances.
but daisy wouldn't change it. even now, she's content to simply hum her agreement, shifting to lay flat on her back again, free hand reaching to pull a pillow under her head. ]
I like it too. [ her head tips to the side in order to smile a little more warmly in his direction, the hand that'd been tracing his pausing to squeeze. ] Being here with you. It's probably the best part of my day.
no subject
one day. it will go along with conversations about doctors and diagnoses and everything else being left unsaid for the time being. ]
Good.
[ god, don't make him blush. it looks strange on his face. ]
You're always welcome to be here. I do not mind.