( It's slow, but there's no less passion for it. In fact, Clarice would like to move a little faster, a little more frantically. She just knows that's not what they need right now. Instead she keeps her movements careful, makes sure they both feel every second of it, eeking out the delicious agony of making love.
Because that's what they're doing. This isn't a quick fuck. This isn't just two people falling together. They've been through hell and it doesn't look like it'll be any better, but goddamn does she want to make sure he enjoys it.
Every movement is lingering, deep, Clarice grinding against him whenever they meet fully. Her breathing is wrecked already, sweat along her collarbone, her green eyes wide and desperate. She never wants to let him go, her body suddenly alive and eager just because they have this. It's been a long time coming. She can't stop touching him, hungry fingers running through his hair before dropping to his shoulders, palms gliding over his chest. )
[ It's definitely no quick fuck. John's never been good with those anyway, but he's unable to even consider it with Clarice, who is someone he might very well be in love with, or falling in love with. He wants to - He wants to take care of her, sweet and tender and careful, make sure she's enjoying herself, make sure she realizes she's loved. That she knows he cares, deeply, too much, probably.
He gasps, every time Clarice bottoms out and rolls her hips against his own, every time she looks into his eyes, looking desperate and electric and making John wrap his arms tighter around her, hips moving up as they move, just barely, just enough to drive him right out of his mind.
He wants this, wants her, so much it's scaring him, because he doesn't know how to tell her, doesn't know how to show her. But maybe now, here, this - maybe it's enough for Clarice to realize just how deep in John is, how ready he is to give her his all, right alongside the Underground.
She gets to have a part of him no one else does, and he wants her to know. ]
( He's beautiful. She's known that since the moment they met, and while it hadn't been love at first sight it had been something. Clarice finds herself captivated by the look on his face. How open it is, how honest. There's been no disguising the hunger they both have for each other, the need that burns through their veins. This is different. The parts they've tried to hide laid bare for the night.
There's no disguising how he looks at her and makes her feel wanted.
Overcome, Clarice wraps an arm around his shoulders, presses her face to his neck, shifting her hips. They're pressed so close together now that she can feel each shaking breath he takes, the hardness of his nipples, the firmness of his stomach. She has never felt safer in such a vulnerable, compromised position. )
[ When she pushes closer, John just holds Clarice, nose pressed to her jaw, eyes closed tight, letting the sensations take him over, make him forget where he is, who he is, what he's doing. There's only this and there's only the two of them, right now. He shivers, fingers dragging along her spine when she moves, helping her along, breathing hard and loud, her hair tickling the back of his hand.
They don't talk. For now, anyway, the feelings are way too overwhelming for John to be able to say anything, but he hopes what he's feeling is obvious anyway, in the way he pushes up against her, in how he presses his lips to her neck in the softest of kisses, how moans keep escaping him even as he tries to keep quiet.
It's slow, and careful, and desperate all at the same time, months of pent-up feelings, fights and distrust and growing to work together and trust each other and accept their feelings for each other finally exploding out, and it's too much and not enough, all at the same time. ]
( Sex isn't usually like this. Not for Clarice. She's always liked it, sure. There's something thrilling about being wanted. But here, like this, she's aware of how different it feels. How much more this is with John.
She'd give anything to him, if he asked. She'd do anything for him. And that's kind of terrifying, but it makes sense too. They've crashed into each other, been left clinging on as the world started falling apart around them. It's bound to have sped up where her heart would have taken her. She didn't think she could ever have this kind of feeling.
Clarice is warm all over, her skin burning when she rocks her hips against him, grinding down so he fills her all the way up. There's tenderness in the way they hold each other, but there's something else too. A fire, burning frantically between them. She lets out a sharp gasp, muscles clenching around him, her hands shaking against his shoulders. She's desperately close, starved for touch enough that she's already done in. )
[ John grunts, choking on his breathing when Clarice clenches her muscles around his cock, too much, too overwhelming, and yet perfect at the same time, the kind of feeling that John has thought he wasn’t allowed to feel anymore, wasn’t allowing himself to feel. Not when everything was falling apart around them and Mutants needed the Underground more than ever, there was no time for this.
But he was done fighting against his feelings, fighting against himself. He wants Clarice and he can juggle these feelings along taking care of the Underground. He knew he could, and he was tired of trying to push his desires away for the good of the rest. He deserved this, too - a shot at happiness.
Pressing his mouth to the crook of Clarice’s neck, he holds her a little tighter for a moment, just long enough for him to shift them, lying Clarice down on the cot and settling above her, holding himself up with his elbows on either side of her head as he thrusts his hips into hers, looking straight into her eyes. ]
( He moves her onto her back and Clarice makes a short, sharp noise that she can barely cut off as he pushes inside of her. It's still not enough to give them away, but she turns her head to pant wetly against the sheets. Her legs wrap around his waist immediately, the heel of her foot pressed against the small the dip above his ass, nails digging into his shoulders. She doesn't want to let him go, now that she has him.
When she speaks, it's barely a whisper, something frantic shaking her voice. )
John, I --. I can't, it's too ...
( His hips shift, pressing just right, and Clarice chokes on her breath, eyes squeezed shut. She isn't going to last. Her mouth finds his then, kissing him desperately, something greedy and full of need unfurling inside of her. )
[ All the noises Clarice are making are deafening to him. While he knows that she's being quiet, that they're both being quiet, fabric rustling as they move, harsh pants in the tiny space they've found themselves in, the sounds she makes are filling up his ears, making them buzz pleasantly.
His muscles are tense as he moves over, inside her, his fingers curled around the metal cot. The bed is too small to be comfortable, but John barely spares it a thought as Clarice wraps her legs around him, whispers against his skin, making him redouble his efforts, so determined, so... she'd probably say, John-like, only there is nothing soldiery about the way he's moving, about the way he's wanting.
He's shaking with it, skin sweating as it slides against Clarice's, pleasure shooting up his spine with every noise, every shift, every thrust, every bitten down moan. He makes a noise into Clarice's kiss, desperate and a little crazed, a whimper, a shiver running through him. ]
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no subject
Date: 2018-03-01 07:07 pm (UTC)Because that's what they're doing. This isn't a quick fuck. This isn't just two people falling together. They've been through hell and it doesn't look like it'll be any better, but goddamn does she want to make sure he enjoys it.
Every movement is lingering, deep, Clarice grinding against him whenever they meet fully. Her breathing is wrecked already, sweat along her collarbone, her green eyes wide and desperate. She never wants to let him go, her body suddenly alive and eager just because they have this. It's been a long time coming. She can't stop touching him, hungry fingers running through his hair before dropping to his shoulders, palms gliding over his chest. )
no subject
Date: 2018-03-05 03:24 pm (UTC)He gasps, every time Clarice bottoms out and rolls her hips against his own, every time she looks into his eyes, looking desperate and electric and making John wrap his arms tighter around her, hips moving up as they move, just barely, just enough to drive him right out of his mind.
He wants this, wants her, so much it's scaring him, because he doesn't know how to tell her, doesn't know how to show her. But maybe now, here, this - maybe it's enough for Clarice to realize just how deep in John is, how ready he is to give her his all, right alongside the Underground.
She gets to have a part of him no one else does, and he wants her to know. ]
no subject
Date: 2018-03-08 04:16 pm (UTC)There's no disguising how he looks at her and makes her feel wanted.
Overcome, Clarice wraps an arm around his shoulders, presses her face to his neck, shifting her hips. They're pressed so close together now that she can feel each shaking breath he takes, the hardness of his nipples, the firmness of his stomach. She has never felt safer in such a vulnerable, compromised position. )
no subject
Date: 2018-03-12 11:32 am (UTC)They don't talk. For now, anyway, the feelings are way too overwhelming for John to be able to say anything, but he hopes what he's feeling is obvious anyway, in the way he pushes up against her, in how he presses his lips to her neck in the softest of kisses, how moans keep escaping him even as he tries to keep quiet.
It's slow, and careful, and desperate all at the same time, months of pent-up feelings, fights and distrust and growing to work together and trust each other and accept their feelings for each other finally exploding out, and it's too much and not enough, all at the same time. ]
no subject
Date: 2018-03-24 05:55 pm (UTC)She'd give anything to him, if he asked. She'd do anything for him. And that's kind of terrifying, but it makes sense too. They've crashed into each other, been left clinging on as the world started falling apart around them. It's bound to have sped up where her heart would have taken her. She didn't think she could ever have this kind of feeling.
Clarice is warm all over, her skin burning when she rocks her hips against him, grinding down so he fills her all the way up. There's tenderness in the way they hold each other, but there's something else too. A fire, burning frantically between them. She lets out a sharp gasp, muscles clenching around him, her hands shaking against his shoulders. She's desperately close, starved for touch enough that she's already done in. )
no subject
Date: 2018-03-24 08:23 pm (UTC)But he was done fighting against his feelings, fighting against himself. He wants Clarice and he can juggle these feelings along taking care of the Underground. He knew he could, and he was tired of trying to push his desires away for the good of the rest. He deserved this, too - a shot at happiness.
Pressing his mouth to the crook of Clarice’s neck, he holds her a little tighter for a moment, just long enough for him to shift them, lying Clarice down on the cot and settling above her, holding himself up with his elbows on either side of her head as he thrusts his hips into hers, looking straight into her eyes. ]
no subject
Date: 2018-03-28 05:21 pm (UTC)When she speaks, it's barely a whisper, something frantic shaking her voice. )
John, I --. I can't, it's too ...
( His hips shift, pressing just right, and Clarice chokes on her breath, eyes squeezed shut. She isn't going to last. Her mouth finds his then, kissing him desperately, something greedy and full of need unfurling inside of her. )
no subject
Date: 2018-04-01 09:15 am (UTC)His muscles are tense as he moves over, inside her, his fingers curled around the metal cot. The bed is too small to be comfortable, but John barely spares it a thought as Clarice wraps her legs around him, whispers against his skin, making him redouble his efforts, so determined, so... she'd probably say, John-like, only there is nothing soldiery about the way he's moving, about the way he's wanting.
He's shaking with it, skin sweating as it slides against Clarice's, pleasure shooting up his spine with every noise, every shift, every thrust, every bitten down moan. He makes a noise into Clarice's kiss, desperate and a little crazed, a whimper, a shiver running through him. ]