[ his hands come to rest at her hips, the touch light and still solid enough, firm enough that it feels like it's holding her together, holding her in place-- or maybe that's the breathless thing that sits in her chest, that is growing between them, undeniably for all that it shouldn't be there because this means nothing, marriage on this planet doesn't actually bind them to each other, it doesn't.
she focuses on undoing button after button, barely faltering when his forehead comes to rest against hers, both of them breathing the same air. another button, then one more, and she can push his jacket open and repeat the process with his shirt. ]
[The trick, it seems, is simply not to think. As with so much else in life, the best course is to reduce the universe to simply barreling through all the confusion and doubt.
If he doesn't think, he can enjoy the sensation of being warm and close. If he doesn't overanalyze, he can shrug free from his jacket, hands leaving her hips one at a time and settling back into place with more certainty.
They know pieces of this. They know at least enough that shedding his shirt can end with his head ducking the rest of the way to a kiss--and they absolutely know that.]
[ not thinking really is a time-honoured tradition with both of them, individually and jointly, isn't it? a certain degree of recklessness, pushing through because before they know it, they're already in the middle of something--
he shrugs free from his jacket and then sets his hands more firmly on her hips again, dipping down to kiss her once his shirt's off and they're in the middle of something here, too, aren't they? in the middle of something they know, if they don't stop to think about it.
lara has no intention of letting her mind intrude on this. instead, she kisses him back-- a tad more slowly than they know, maybe. ]
[Focus on the warmth of her lips. Focus on the familiar feel of her skin under his hands. Focus on the half-step backward toward the bed, toward the proper plunge away from the edge of wherever they are to the mess of what they already are.
What they already are (without this planet, without these promises) is wonderful. What they already are is this pleasant rush in his gut from being here again (not horrifying, not even here; just lovely and known and exactly where he wants to be).
Slow isn't bad. Slow just means dragging out the sense of distraction, surely.]
[ half a step back toward the bed and lara feels the edge of it against the back of her thighs and it's easy enough, physically at least, to let herself fall back, to drag him along with her.
somehow, she knows he'll follow her down. somehow, she knows he trusts her to follow or that she trusts him to, some combination of that, tangled together--
it doesn't matter. (it does, but she's not thinking about it.) what matters is the sensation of his body against hers, his lips against hers, familiar and still exciting despite that. ]
[There are so many places he'd follow her. There are so many foolish, life-threatening things they've asked of one another--that they will ask of each other once they make it off this planet again. Following her here, now, to tumble onto their marriage bed, sets his heart pounding as hard as any other foolish thing they've ever done.
No more thinking. No more worrying about words, or rings, or the uncomfortable familiarity of this place among all the places they've visited (just enough like home that it feels real somewhere deep in his bones).
All there is to do now is to kiss her hard, hands fumbling to get rid of his pants without moving any of himself too far from any of her.]
[ lara isn't sure if it's her own heartbeat she can hear echoed or his, if the bond somehow translates into this as well, into their heartbeats in sync, beating hard and fast even as their tumble onto the bed is gentle, painless.
his kiss serves to wipe her mind clean of further thoughts, his hands between their bodies to undo his trousers. his jacket is gone; lara busies herself with his shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside and moving into another kiss with barely a breath between. their chests meet, her fingers digging into his back, his neck, running down his arms. ]
[It's just them. Stripped down like this, there's nothing to distinguish this moment from any other time they've fallen into bed together. This is what they know. This doesn't have to be complicated by anything lingering over them, any words spoken hours before exactly these last few moments.
All they have to do is curl here together. All they have to do is keep their lips locked, bodies pressing together and skin sliding against skin. All they need to consider is whether to stay as they are or pull Lara on top of him.
Once the pants are gone, he'll give an experimental tug in that direction.]
[ his lips are on hers and his hands are on her hips, tugging her on top of him and lara moves to straddle him without thinking, no inch of space between their bodies as she does, the kiss not breaking. she doesn't think she could stand it if it does.
it's just them. it's so much more than that, but in the end, naked, it's just them. it's them in a bed, touching, tangled together. it's somewhere they've been before and if she doesn't think about vows and promises and until death do us part, her heart beating wildly is just a response to physical sensation. if she's lightheaded, it's only because they keep kissing for so long that breathing is secondary.
it's just them. that makes it easy, easier, in the end, to reach between their bodies, to shift the angle just so that she can slide down on him.
the sensation of him inside her, filling her, that is not new.
[They can focus on this. They can sink into the familiarity of lips crashing and bodies fitting together.
There are sounds on his lips as his hips shift under her, urgent for the warmth of her, but they have no form or substance. There don't need to be words here. They don't need to think about words here; about promises. They just need to be.
It's a relief, after a day like this, to fall back into the familiar pleasure of losing himself in the sensation of thrusting up into her. (It's not worth examining the emotional truth of the relief beyond the pure relaxation of stress.)]
[ they don't need words. they don't need anything beyond the physical sensation of this, the push and pull and thrust of it. they can lose themselves in the rhythm and in the familiar rush of this physical kind of joining.
there's just this: rolling her hips just so, taking him deeper, her hands on his shoulder, next to his head, the proximity and synchronicity.
this, they know. this is something they've always been good at, somehow. a language they both know how to speak, of gasps and deep breaths and quiet moans. ]
[She's wonderful like this. She's like another piece of himself--or perhaps he's another piece of her. The lines aren't terribly bright and the tangle doesn't have much of a direction.
Some of the sounds on his lips are her name. Most aren't. Some of the shifts and tugs are to be certain, when their lips aren't crushed together, that he can see her face properly. Most aren't.
It isn't the vows that make this different (more). It's just that it's her.]
[ most of the sounds on his lips aren't her name--but some are. her first name, lara, and it's not that he's never called her that before, but somehow, this moment, this tangling together feels all the more intimate for it.
or maybe that's nothing to do with her name. maybe that's everything to do with him, with the fact that it's him, --with the vow, too.
(the vow doesn't mean anything, not really, but
maybe it does.)
when they aren't kissing, he's looking at her and lara finds herself looking back, as unable as unwilling to hide anything-- how this is affecting her, in more ways than the physical. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2021-05-22 11:35 am (UTC)she focuses on undoing button after button, barely faltering when his forehead comes to rest against hers, both of them breathing the same air. another button, then one more, and she can push his jacket open and repeat the process with his shirt. ]
no subject
Date: 2021-05-23 05:20 pm (UTC)If he doesn't think, he can enjoy the sensation of being warm and close. If he doesn't overanalyze, he can shrug free from his jacket, hands leaving her hips one at a time and settling back into place with more certainty.
They know pieces of this. They know at least enough that shedding his shirt can end with his head ducking the rest of the way to a kiss--and they absolutely know that.]
no subject
Date: 2021-05-24 06:25 pm (UTC)he shrugs free from his jacket and then sets his hands more firmly on her hips again, dipping down to kiss her once his shirt's off and they're in the middle of something here, too, aren't they? in the middle of something they know, if they don't stop to think about it.
lara has no intention of letting her mind intrude on this. instead, she kisses him back-- a tad more slowly than they know, maybe. ]
no subject
Date: 2021-05-27 02:15 am (UTC)What they already are (without this planet, without these promises) is wonderful. What they already are is this pleasant rush in his gut from being here again (not horrifying, not even here; just lovely and known and exactly where he wants to be).
Slow isn't bad. Slow just means dragging out the sense of distraction, surely.]
no subject
Date: 2021-08-22 09:07 am (UTC)somehow, she knows he'll follow her down. somehow, she knows he trusts her to follow or that she trusts him to, some combination of that, tangled together--
it doesn't matter. (it does, but she's not thinking about it.) what matters is the sensation of his body against hers, his lips against hers, familiar and still exciting despite that. ]
no subject
Date: 2021-10-09 08:52 pm (UTC)No more thinking. No more worrying about words, or rings, or the uncomfortable familiarity of this place among all the places they've visited (just enough like home that it feels real somewhere deep in his bones).
All there is to do now is to kiss her hard, hands fumbling to get rid of his pants without moving any of himself too far from any of her.]
no subject
Date: 2021-10-10 09:07 am (UTC)his kiss serves to wipe her mind clean of further thoughts, his hands between their bodies to undo his trousers. his jacket is gone; lara busies herself with his shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside and moving into another kiss with barely a breath between. their chests meet, her fingers digging into his back, his neck, running down his arms. ]
no subject
Date: 2021-10-10 09:31 pm (UTC)All they have to do is curl here together. All they have to do is keep their lips locked, bodies pressing together and skin sliding against skin. All they need to consider is whether to stay as they are or pull Lara on top of him.
Once the pants are gone, he'll give an experimental tug in that direction.]
no subject
Date: 2021-10-24 06:16 pm (UTC)it's just them. it's so much more than that, but in the end, naked, it's just them. it's them in a bed, touching, tangled together. it's somewhere they've been before and if she doesn't think about vows and promises and until death do us part, her heart beating wildly is just a response to physical sensation. if she's lightheaded, it's only because they keep kissing for so long that breathing is secondary.
it's just them. that makes it easy, easier, in the end, to reach between their bodies, to shift the angle just so that she can slide down on him.
the sensation of him inside her, filling her, that is not new.
somehow, it still feels monumental. ]
no subject
Date: 2021-10-31 01:48 pm (UTC)There are sounds on his lips as his hips shift under her, urgent for the warmth of her, but they have no form or substance. There don't need to be words here. They don't need to think about words here; about promises. They just need to be.
It's a relief, after a day like this, to fall back into the familiar pleasure of losing himself in the sensation of thrusting up into her. (It's not worth examining the emotional truth of the relief beyond the pure relaxation of stress.)]
no subject
Date: 2021-11-06 07:05 pm (UTC)there's just this: rolling her hips just so, taking him deeper, her hands on his shoulder, next to his head, the proximity and synchronicity.
this, they know. this is something they've always been good at, somehow. a language they both know how to speak, of gasps and deep breaths and quiet moans. ]
no subject
Date: 2021-11-07 04:56 pm (UTC)Some of the sounds on his lips are her name. Most aren't. Some of the shifts and tugs are to be certain, when their lips aren't crushed together, that he can see her face properly. Most aren't.
It isn't the vows that make this different (more). It's just that it's her.]
no subject
Date: 2022-01-05 08:28 pm (UTC)or maybe that's nothing to do with her name. maybe that's everything to do with him, with the fact that it's him, --with the vow, too.
(the vow doesn't mean anything, not really, but
maybe it does.)
when they aren't kissing, he's looking at her and lara finds herself looking back, as unable as unwilling to hide anything-- how this is affecting her, in more ways than the physical. ]