forbarrayar_ooc | A BELATED VALENTINES KISS MEME

[ He's talking too much, isn't he always? She doesn't mind, she likes letting him. Likes when he becomes enthralled, explaining this thing or that to great fervour. Something about Barrayar, or Cetagandans, or the far expanses of space that she will not see, but he paints it vividly enough, she feels like she could. Just from him alone.

Normally she's happy to let him. But she was there for a rather particular purpose and he's talking quite eagerly at her.

Nothing for it, she supposed, where she's settled next to him, waiting for the moment he stops to draw breath and she leans in and kisses him. Quick as she can light and warm, and pulling back with a smile. ]

You talk a great deal, sometimes.

[ Well. That leaves him speechless. His mouth drops open afterwards as a flush traces his features. (What was that his cousin had said about his preferences? Tall, dark-haired, widowed? Miles also adds "could break him in half" to the list without the slightest reduction in attraction. ]

I would talk less if that were the reward I received.

[ He can't help the grin that practically explodes out of him, the light that seems to radiate outward. ]

May I return the favor?

[ It got the reaction she wanted. She really ought not to have such a joy in startling him like that. But as she seemed to do it often enough, it was enjoy or be more careful.

She didn't think either of them would enjoy that very much.

Rather, she likes his brightness - he is not burning. Not searing. No, no, he is bright. All lit up from the inside. A stain glass window. The trick of mirrors that the Mughals favoured, to fill rooms with the sun reflected manifold.

Blinding, perhaps. She ventures then, mildly, like it's the easiest thing she's ever done, like it's as natural as a sunrise. ] If you like.

[ Miles is either all light or all darkness, it seems; he just swings wildly between the two extremes. And there's no darkness in him right now. Ah, if only he were all enough to just lean up and kiss her ... But he's used to making do.

He reaches out for her hand. And tugs at it gently, pulling her down with that small motion. She has the opportunity to stop at any point. Like hell Miles would make anyone kiss him who wasn't 100% on board with the idea already. Even now, she could pull back, step away ...

But if she doesn't, he reaches a hand up to her face, his delicate hands gentle against her chin. And then he tilts his head up to kiss her. A little more fervent than what she'd done for him, but still soft, still undemanding. Just longing. ]

[ It startles her, at least a little, just how much there is to so easy an invitation. Her hand coming up to his hand to brace over it, to make sure he doesn't pull quickly away, to show that she wants him there. The part of her mouth against his, the artless inhalation of his name murmured back to him. Giving, little by little. Taking, little by little.

Her scarred fingers, rough, catching on his so lightly. Pressing them in. She wasn't delicate. She was blood soaked and real and here. Let him take as much, she won't be treated like glass, now or ever. He can hold to her as much as he likes, encourages it as much as she can. ]

[ Miles doesn't think she's fragile - far from it. Rather, Miles is the fragile one here, terrified of rejection even at the eleventh hour. He always expects his partners to reject him. Because really, who could possibly want someone as stunted and twisted as him? No woman in her right mind, surely. Or anyone else.

But when it's clear she wants this, that he's not being a burden on her politeness or otherwise infringing on her intentions, he's more than happy to deepen the kiss. Bringing his other hand up to curl at the back of her neck, dragging her down to meet him more firmly. It hurts his neck something fierce to have to hold this position. But it's worth it. So incredibly and entirely worth it. ]

My lady. [ He murmurs between kisses. ]

[ It shudders through her, like turning on a light. The first time she had seen a gas light, lighting up a room brightly. Different to the candles and oil burners she had grown up with, in the mahal. A sudden illumination when the price of years is the deadening. Is dark rooms where people had lived and then the lights had been turned out. Gone. Left her in corridors to walk with nothing but her own steps to echo back to her.

The same kind of longing she tastes in his mouth. Far be it for her to admit loneliness, she was a Queen after all. She had no place to wallow, she must only act in the memories of those that she laid to rest in those chambers. But it creeps up on her regardless, as she leans into him, and the angle is off, but adjusting it means pulling away for even more than a breath she is loath to take. Burying something or dragging it up, and either way, there's dirt under her nails.

Drags that dirt stained longing down his arms as she shifts her hands to move across him, and it takes an age to figure out the words she wants that isn't just a shuddering little noise that lives and dies in her throat as he says her name. Lakshmi, she means to tell him, Manu, after that. Him and her and nothing else. Thank god they are somewhere that they won't be bothered. Manages it finally, ] Admiral. [ Her voice is guttural low, the title panted out, and it's bright and sharp and she feels herself all over-heated and thundering. ] Fix this to be comfortable to both of us or I will do it for you.

[ Not a rejection, oh no, not at all that. Just a demand and a want. ]

[ Demanding too. Miles is more than happy to follow both Lakshmi's command and the little electric thrill that goes through him at said command. He's flushed and sweating slighly as he reluctantly pulls back. Comfortable, huh. He ought to be giving her a goddamn suite of comfort, fine linens and soft mattresses and whole flower shop's worth of rose petals. But relative comfort will have to do, given their situation.

His bright gray eyes stray from hers for a moment to consider their options. A bedroll is a poor substitute for an admiral's suite, but it's private enough. ]

I find it much more comfortable to lie down together. [ More of that radiance shines in his face. ] Which isn't to say I mind the gap. But it does put such terrible kinks in my neck.

[ There are other ways to be appreciative of a woman being taller than him that don't involve having to strain himself. ]

[ Might as well add impatient to that list of vices. For she dreadfully is sometimes - or right now. Right now where she doesn't think she can put herself together except to rip someone's throat out perhaps, or do anything else but kiss him again. The warmth that is languid like drinking the blackwater in her limbs. ]

Well - [ He is a strange man and - she's glad at least where she's concerned, he's not that kind of insecure. It makes it easy to execute a plan. To catch him by the front of his shirt, and tumble them both off the side of the log they'd picked as theirs away from camp.

Considers it a small mercy to her quick improvising, that she lands with her back down and under him. There's a rock in her back, but she can deal with it later. Laughing breathlessly, warm. A half century younger when she smiles up at him. Letting the hand loosen and slide over his chest. Appreciative and considering. Mischief that's terribly bright in her eyes like she'd borrowed it off of him, momentarily. ] Better?

Better, yes. [ Miles breathes in the words, utterly captivated at being swept off his feet. Please, yes, do it again as many times as she likes ... He leans down to kiss her again, placing one palm down against the ground next to her head as the other tilts her chin to meet him more readily. He'd gladly continue like this. Shower her with kisses, feeling her body curved beneath him ...

But he thinks that maybe she'd like it better with one more variation. Certainly he knows he would enjoy it. Had enjoyed it with all of his previous lovers. ]

Except for one thing. [ His smile is still bright, though, undimmed. Even teasing. He runs the tips of his fingers along her face, feeling the contours of her cheek. ] I'd rather be beneath you, if you don't mind.

[ She stretches out under him languidly, face tilting up into his fingers. It's indulgence. Indulgence that they both want, something warm against this place that is quite frankly always freezing to her, no matter how much he insists summer is happening.

Blinks at him the once, lips parted for a second as she comprehends, before she wraps her leg around his waist, pulls him into a kiss as her hands slip around to settle on his back. Tilting her face up to him, slanting her mouth on his and eagerly draws him close, to settle between her legs, the weight that she likes, the closeness. Warm and solid.

Then she rolls them sharply. Her hands catching herself as she breaks the kiss, her hair falling over her shoulder where it comes loose. Her knees settling into the dirt. Then the movements are hurried in her want to reach back down to him. Arches up undo her jacket and discard it beside them, the thin silk that was her undershirt is easily enough pushed out of the way. Practicality rather than vanity, silk made cleaner wounds, after all. Which really, at least she'd managed to be moderately clean. Even if she isn't half of what she'd prefer. No flowers in her hair, the long soak she liked to relax herself.

But at least, she sunk down to him again, body arching over his, he didn't seem to mind it too much. ]

[ Good. Yes. All of these things are good, starting with the continued, insistent pressure of her kissing and continuing with the equally pleasant pressure of her on top of him. He instinctively reaches out to help guide her down without breaking him, despite the fact that he is no longer quite so breakable. Those bones are gone now, replaced over the years by stronger synthetics.

He slides his hands into place at her waist, his slim fingers curling gently against her soft silk undershirt. Goddamn but it looks good on her. Outlining the swell of her body above him. Miles has zero hesitation about romantically involving himself with a woman taller than him. In fact he has a type. And having her here like this accentuates the differences between their bodies without him having to put another kink in his neck. Perfect. ]

You're beautiful. [ He says, looking up at her and taking in the sight greedily. ] Are you certain you want to continue with someone like me?

[ As much as his heart wants to leap straight on into this glorious abyss - he needs to give her an out. For his own peace of mind if nothing else. ]

A BELATED VALENTINES KISS MEME

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