Clarice is doing her best not to look sheepish as she ducks inside his office, her eyes seeking his even as she shuts the door behind her. She's not a teenager, she knows better. But when she leans against the wood to watch him, something helpless and youthful rises up inside her. )
[ John's eyes are focused on Clarice when she finally comes in, leaning against his desk, phone by his side, arms crossed over his chest. He levels her with a steady look, intent. ]
Couldn't be further from what I'm thinking about. Why, s that what you're thinking of?
It's not. Since the very first time I saw you, and you threw a coffee carafe at my head, I've been thinking it. But, with everything, I couldn't... I didn't want to put that on you, when you were confused, and hurt.
( She seems to wait a second, weighing up her options. He's still leaning against the desk and her hands fit to the spaces at his side. Clarice has to press up a little to meet his mouth, but when she does the kiss is firm and sure of itself. It's different, from last time. It has to be, because it's real. But she feels like she has it under control.
Well, mostly. Her heart is racing behind her ribs. )
[ John can't help the tiny sound that escapes him when Clarice kisses him. He doesn't have the memory she does, so to him, it is the first time, and he's quick to unfold his arms, reaching up and sliding a hand through her hair.
He can hear and feel her heartbeat, and his is no better, fit to burst through his chest as he presses a little harder, leaning into Clarice, inviting her closer. ]
( That sound, it ignites something desperate inside of her, hands leaving the desk to curve around the shape of his biceps. There's something about John that appeals to her, a strength that resides in his bones, a surety of his place. She's never felt like that. Or at least, not until now. Clarice likes what he offers, purpose and meaning all wrapped up in a gorgeous package. It's not just attraction, and that should frighten her, but instead it makes her want him more.
Clarice strains forward, pressing into the space between his feet, her tongue dragging lightly over his bottom lip. It's a question, something hopeful. An I'm here. She wants them to feel equal. )
[ It's like a part of him, a part of him that's always on the defensive and ready to fight, melts away when Clarice presses close to him. For a moment, here and now, he doesn't have to defend or protect or fight anyone, he can just be - himself, the softer side of him that he barely ever gets to show. His thumb brushes her cheekbone, his legs parting a little as he sits heavier on the desk, allowing her even closer, wanting her even closer.
She licks at his lip and he groans again, pushing against her, tongue touching hers, slipping past her lips as his free arm wraps around her waist, but lets go after a second, worried about hurting her.
Sure, they have things to talk about. Sure they do. But first... first John is going to make the very most of this. ]
( Clarice lets herself get lost in the moment, thoughts flying away the minute he parts his lips. Her fingers go from gripping the fabric at his sleeves to pushing up, palm against his throat and her nails scratching lightly at the nape of his neck. It's different, from the false memory. She can taste him, smell him, feel his muscles shift and his pulse pound. It's so very real and she can't help but feel hungry for more of it.
Clarice has to break away to catch her breath, but she doesn't stop touching him, pushing her touch up beneath the knot of his hair. Her lips find his jaw, drag along the shape of it before she's pressing her forehead against his, strange eyes holding his gaze. )
Tell me this isn't a bad idea.
( They're at war.
But they want each other. She knows that. She can't deny that. )
[ His fingers twist in her shirt at her back, wanting to make her push harder, hold him tighter. There's barely anything he can't take, and he can definitely deal with her nails down his back, or her teeth into his collarbone. He wants it all, he wants to feel her when she's out of the room again.
He tilts his head when she pulls back, allowing her more space before she leans in and he presses her forehead to his, his eyes boring into hers, taking how incredible they are. ]
I'm not sure I can tell you that.
[ Because he's not going to lie to her again. ]
But it doesn't change the fact that I want you. So bad.
( A shiver licks along her spine when he grips the back of her shirt. He can probably feel it where they're pressed together. But it's so little amount of space for such a wealth of longing and she makes a noise in the back of her throat. )
As far as bad ideas go, this isn't the worst I've had.
( She grins, quick and sharp, presses a biting kiss to his lips only to pull back again, the hand not in his hair sweeping down the front of his shirt. )
Also, if you had heard me touching myself, I definitely would have been thinking of you.
[ At her words, John lets out a loud rush of breath, arousal like a punch to the gut, starting in his stomach and traveling up his chest at the speed of light. His mouth opens, and he presses the tip of his tongue to his top lip for a second, eyes moving to the ceiling before settling back on her. ]
I do try to give people their privacy, you know. Are you saying you wanted me to hear you?
[ The thought, is, well. His hand moves, slowly, palm dragging against her clothes, moving down until his fingers catch on the waistband of her jeans. Pressed close as they are, she can't be mistaking the effect her words had on him. ]
But I'll make a note of it. For next time. [ His voice is rough. ]
( She can feel him stirring, her thigh pressed against the seam of his jeans. It's far more tantalising than she'd imagined it to be - and she had, she definitely had, guilty and furtive thoughts trickling into her mind when she least it expected. Clarice is suddenly very aware of just how much she wants him, heat pulsing through her. She wants to touch him, taste him. She wants to do so many things. )
Stay right there.
( It's almost physically painful to pull herself away from his grip, but needs must. Clarice only turns away to check the lock on his office door, turn the blinds. For good measure she wedges a chair under the handle, glancing back with a wicked smile on her lips. )
How strong do you think that desk is?
( If it's not clear what she means, the way she peels her shirt up and over her head might be. )
[ John prides himself in how aware he is of most things, at most times. He is a dedicated leader, a stable friend, in control, even if at times he can be controlling. One of the things he's had to do in his life, as his powers manifested, was learn how to control them, make sure that he knew exactly what kind of pressure to put into a handshake to keep himself from crushing bones. How far he could go with most people. How a heavy step could break tiles underfoot.
Control was something that John was an expert at, for his own survival, but more importantly, other people's. And yet, right now, he feels his control slipping. His carefully nurtured, absolutely essential control is melting off of him like ice in the sun as he looks at Clarice, locking the door and then - taking her shirt off.
John is a lot of things, but he's also just a man. Mutant or not - they all want, and love, and hate in the same way. And right now, John definitely wants. He slides off the desk and takes the few steps separating him and Clarice, sweeping her off her feet with one arm under her, at the same time as he dips his head to brush his lips against the edge of her bra. He wastes no time to turn around, sitting her down on the desk delicately. ]
( He lifts her up like she weighs nothing, like it's easy, like he's the typical hero in a movie and she's the heroine. Clarice makes a noise in the back of her throat, fingers gripping his shoulders, but he's so careful when he sets her down. It's surprisingly a lot. She'd never imagined herself as the kind of girl who'd lose her head for something like this, but there's definitely --.
Something.
A spark of longing, a soft kind of yearning.
It doesn't stop her from scooting back over the desk, from reaching out and tangling his fingers into his shirt, tugging until she can kiss him firmly, knees pressed to his hips. She wants this. In the storm of madness they're living in, she wants to be his comfort. Losing themselves in each other, finding hope where they can. )
That was really, really impressive.
( It's delivered to his lips, Clarice's fingers finding the hem of his shirt before pushing up, desperate to see more of him. )
[ His fingers skim down along her thighs when she sits against him, her legs raised to fit around his hips. He doesn't hesitate to pull back, looking into Clarice's eyes as he raises his arms over his head, his shirt following, soon down on the dusty floor of his office. He's glad to have made the decision to get himself a small space for himself, one with walls and a door instead of just bars.
He leans back into her space once his shirt is off, kissing her a little harder then, hand framing her face as his fingers tangle in one of her bra straps, leaning her down onto the desk. His free arm swipes at the papers on the desk, sending them tumbling down the side, pen clanking to the floor as papers flutter gently. When he pulls back, he brushes his nose against hers. The desk creaks softly when he presses his knee into it.]
( She touches him immediately, hands seeking out his skin so she can run her palms across his shoulders, down his chest, mapping him out with greedy enthusiasm. She's dreamt of this moment, both willingly and otherwise, but it's nothing like feeling the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, nothing compared to scraping her nails lightly across his nipple and hearing him inhale.
He's gorgeous, and Clarice feels like she's already spiralling out of control.
Huffing a laugh when the desk creaks, she presses her lips to his jawline, teasing it with her teeth before kissing her way up to his ear. ) We can always say we were training and the desk was our only victim. ( Clarice presses up against him, encouraging, the denim of their jeans dragging together at the hips. She wants this so much. Which is why her hands go to his belt, tugging it free with impatience. )
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Date: 2017-12-30 09:04 pm (UTC)you really want to talk?
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Date: 2017-12-30 09:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-12-30 09:09 pm (UTC)if you think we might figure out a direction after.
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Date: 2017-12-30 09:12 pm (UTC)Get over here already.
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Date: 2017-12-30 09:21 pm (UTC)Clarice is doing her best not to look sheepish as she ducks inside his office, her eyes seeking his even as she shuts the door behind her. She's not a teenager, she knows better. But when she leans against the wood to watch him, something helpless and youthful rises up inside her. )
Are you thinking about jelly donuts right now?
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Date: 2017-12-30 09:26 pm (UTC)Couldn't be further from what I'm thinking about. Why, s that what you're thinking of?
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Date: 2017-12-30 09:34 pm (UTC)( She's thinking about how good he looks, about how she hasn't felt like this in a long time. )
What are you thinking?
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Date: 2017-12-30 09:36 pm (UTC)I'm thinking about how beautiful you are.
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Date: 2017-12-30 09:38 pm (UTC)( She takes a step forward, and then another one. )
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Date: 2017-12-30 09:41 pm (UTC)It's not. Since the very first time I saw you, and you threw a coffee carafe at my head, I've been thinking it. But, with everything, I couldn't... I didn't want to put that on you, when you were confused, and hurt.
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Date: 2017-12-30 09:44 pm (UTC)( She stops, just shy of him, her bright green eyes searching his face. )
Let's just say, what happened was kind of shitty. But I'm willing to draw a line under it. What then?
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Date: 2017-12-30 09:50 pm (UTC)I don't know. It depends on what you want. If it needs to be made clear, I am into you. I've been for a while.
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Date: 2017-12-31 06:06 pm (UTC)( She seems to wait a second, weighing up her options. He's still leaning against the desk and her hands fit to the spaces at his side. Clarice has to press up a little to meet his mouth, but when she does the kiss is firm and sure of itself. It's different, from last time. It has to be, because it's real. But she feels like she has it under control.
Well, mostly. Her heart is racing behind her ribs. )
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Date: 2018-01-02 12:36 pm (UTC)He can hear and feel her heartbeat, and his is no better, fit to burst through his chest as he presses a little harder, leaning into Clarice, inviting her closer. ]
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Date: 2018-01-03 07:16 pm (UTC)Clarice strains forward, pressing into the space between his feet, her tongue dragging lightly over his bottom lip. It's a question, something hopeful. An I'm here. She wants them to feel equal. )
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Date: 2018-01-03 08:21 pm (UTC)She licks at his lip and he groans again, pushing against her, tongue touching hers, slipping past her lips as his free arm wraps around her waist, but lets go after a second, worried about hurting her.
Sure, they have things to talk about. Sure they do. But first... first John is going to make the very most of this. ]
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Date: 2018-01-03 08:27 pm (UTC)Clarice has to break away to catch her breath, but she doesn't stop touching him, pushing her touch up beneath the knot of his hair. Her lips find his jaw, drag along the shape of it before she's pressing her forehead against his, strange eyes holding his gaze. )
Tell me this isn't a bad idea.
( They're at war.
But they want each other. She knows that. She can't deny that. )
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Date: 2018-01-03 08:38 pm (UTC)He tilts his head when she pulls back, allowing her more space before she leans in and he presses her forehead to his, his eyes boring into hers, taking how incredible they are. ]
I'm not sure I can tell you that.
[ Because he's not going to lie to her again. ]
But it doesn't change the fact that I want you. So bad.
no subject
Date: 2018-01-04 05:36 pm (UTC)As far as bad ideas go, this isn't the worst I've had.
( She grins, quick and sharp, presses a biting kiss to his lips only to pull back again, the hand not in his hair sweeping down the front of his shirt. )
Also, if you had heard me touching myself, I definitely would have been thinking of you.
no subject
Date: 2018-01-04 06:14 pm (UTC)I do try to give people their privacy, you know. Are you saying you wanted me to hear you?
[ The thought, is, well. His hand moves, slowly, palm dragging against her clothes, moving down until his fingers catch on the waistband of her jeans. Pressed close as they are, she can't be mistaking the effect her words had on him. ]
But I'll make a note of it. For next time. [ His voice is rough. ]
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Date: 2018-01-04 06:41 pm (UTC)Stay right there.
( It's almost physically painful to pull herself away from his grip, but needs must. Clarice only turns away to check the lock on his office door, turn the blinds. For good measure she wedges a chair under the handle, glancing back with a wicked smile on her lips. )
How strong do you think that desk is?
( If it's not clear what she means, the way she peels her shirt up and over her head might be. )
no subject
Date: 2018-01-05 11:32 am (UTC)Control was something that John was an expert at, for his own survival, but more importantly, other people's. And yet, right now, he feels his control slipping. His carefully nurtured, absolutely essential control is melting off of him like ice in the sun as he looks at Clarice, locking the door and then - taking her shirt off.
John is a lot of things, but he's also just a man. Mutant or not - they all want, and love, and hate in the same way. And right now, John definitely wants. He slides off the desk and takes the few steps separating him and Clarice, sweeping her off her feet with one arm under her, at the same time as he dips his head to brush his lips against the edge of her bra. He wastes no time to turn around, sitting her down on the desk delicately. ]
Let's test it out, shall we?
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Date: 2018-01-05 07:22 pm (UTC)Something.
A spark of longing, a soft kind of yearning.
It doesn't stop her from scooting back over the desk, from reaching out and tangling his fingers into his shirt, tugging until she can kiss him firmly, knees pressed to his hips. She wants this. In the storm of madness they're living in, she wants to be his comfort. Losing themselves in each other, finding hope where they can. )
That was really, really impressive.
( It's delivered to his lips, Clarice's fingers finding the hem of his shirt before pushing up, desperate to see more of him. )
no subject
Date: 2018-01-06 09:45 pm (UTC)He leans back into her space once his shirt is off, kissing her a little harder then, hand framing her face as his fingers tangle in one of her bra straps, leaning her down onto the desk. His free arm swipes at the papers on the desk, sending them tumbling down the side, pen clanking to the floor as papers flutter gently. When he pulls back, he brushes his nose against hers. The desk creaks softly when he presses his knee into it.]
So far, so good.
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Date: 2018-01-09 05:54 pm (UTC)He's gorgeous, and Clarice feels like she's already spiralling out of control.
Huffing a laugh when the desk creaks, she presses her lips to his jawline, teasing it with her teeth before kissing her way up to his ear. ) We can always say we were training and the desk was our only victim. ( Clarice presses up against him, encouraging, the denim of their jeans dragging together at the hips. She wants this so much. Which is why her hands go to his belt, tugging it free with impatience. )
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