[ at least... tugging him around a pile of boxes out of sight of the... bodies. ]
So, er... I'm reading this mystery novel that was recommended to me, and—
[ she starts describing, at length, the plot to this book, which is some sort of locked room mystery. It'd be a little easier to follow if she didn't keep losing her train of thought every other time the laughter starts up again. ]
[look it's fine, he will listen. he likes books a lot, especially the classics. so if they can trade those recommendations but he does know the one thing that worked...
and maybe it's just shit impulse control, but he leans in and suddenly kisses her]
[ listen it occurred to her but it wouldn't be her if she didn't at least try something very boring first,
there's a sort of moment where she pauses, surprised, and pulls him against her by the front of his shirt, stumbling into a backstop of a bunch of crates. ]
[he pressed against her, but his lips don't stay on her lips-- he starts kissing along the lines of her neck. his hand drops to her shirtline, to start pulling it up.]
[ she makes a soft whine in the back of her throat, and just pulls his shirt up to slide her hands over his back, thumbs running around the line of his waistband. ]
Not—hh, not yet—I'm still... not that far into the fiction section, but.
[ everyone needs shirts off now. one shirt is too many, so she's attempting to pull his off, too, all the while rolling her hips a little to grind against him. ]
He's an author... most famous for "Count of Monte Cristo..."
[he needs to catch his breath for a moment. a hand moves from one of her breasts, and starts to undo the buttons for his pants. his other thumb presses against her nipples.]
A man's framed for a crime he didn't commit... By his best friend...
[back to kissing her desperately, actually, letting his words come between kisses, as his hands slid down her bare midrift, past the pants she's starting to unbutton]
[ free of the pants, she hooks one leg around the back of his knees, for a better angle, kissing him sloppily and returning to running her hands up and down his bare back. ]
F, fourteen years, so—ye gods, what did his terrible friend even, ah, do...
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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... Distractions. Distractions help.
[until he wakes up.]
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[ at least... tugging him around a pile of boxes out of sight of the... bodies. ]
So, er... I'm reading this mystery novel that was recommended to me, and—
[ she starts describing, at length, the plot to this book, which is some sort of locked room mystery. It'd be a little easier to follow if she didn't keep losing her train of thought every other time the laughter starts up again. ]
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and maybe it's just shit impulse control, but he leans in and suddenly kisses her]
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there's a sort of moment where she pauses, surprised, and pulls him against her by the front of his shirt, stumbling into a backstop of a bunch of crates. ]
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but it also feels distant, something he can live with as his hand moves to the back of her head, pulling her more firmly into the kiss]
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[ she parts her lips for him, smoothing her hands down around his sides and to rest at the small of his back, now that she's pulled him against her. ]
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Keeps happening...
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[ she doesn't resist him tugging at her shirt, and leans into the kisses; her own fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt. ]
...a lot more engaging than my book summaries, huh.
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[his teeth bite at her neck and the shirt slides up. his hands move to press against her breasts.]
I like reading.
[there's a clanking sound in the distance but he's focused on her]
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...well. Nn, maybe... later.
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You ever read Alexander Dumas....?
[his knee slides up, between her legs, as they talk, and he pulls back enough to just fully remove her shirt]
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[ everyone needs shirts off now. one shirt is too many, so she's attempting to pull his off, too, all the while rolling her hips a little to grind against him. ]
Tell me about it...?
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He's an author... most famous for "Count of Monte Cristo..."
[he needs to catch his breath for a moment. a hand moves from one of her breasts, and starts to undo the buttons for his pants. his other thumb presses against her nipples.]
Probably not familiar...
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[ she presses into his touch, back arching a little bit, and drops her hands to loosen her own pants. ]
What's it about.
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[back to kissing her desperately, actually, letting his words come between kisses, as his hands slid down her bare midrift, past the pants she's starting to unbutton]
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So, ah—to clear his name, or...?
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[if she's shimmying out, he's definitely getting handsy, sliding a hand across her labia, thumb pressing along her clit]
He went to jail for... 14 years, actually.
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[ free of the pants, she hooks one leg around the back of his knees, for a better angle, kissing him sloppily and returning to running her hands up and down his bare back. ]
F, fourteen years, so—ye gods, what did his terrible friend even, ah, do...