[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: 2021-10-09 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. ]