[ It's not like it's a long walk, either - their quarters are both on Deck 6, so it's just a short jaunt down the corridor to Clara's quarters, his boots clicking loudly in the otherwise quiet space. He walks past the rooms of his crew, past Prax's room, but - doesn't stop.
Not until he's at Clara's door, in his usual attire of boots, jumpsuit - the top half gathered around his hips, arms tied at the waist - and t-shirt, casually leaning against the wall as he knocks. ]
[The door slides open, and Clara beams up at him. She’s dressed similarly, albeit with a regulation sports bra sitting over her hourglass hips. The room behind her is larger than the standard, meant for more than one occupant, and littered with absolutely zero personal effects, aside from her magboots abandoned next to a chair.]
Hiya, stranger. [She waggles her fingers.] Come here often?
[ It's not a lie, and even less of a joke, even if he smirks at Clara. His eyes move down along her body in the most obvious way, not even trying to be subtle about it. ]
What kind of entertainment are you looking for, then?
[She takes one of the sleeves of his jumpsuit, and tugs him away from the door, walking backwards with a jovial glint in her eye.]
Not sure, but it’s probably back there. [A toss of her head in the direction of her bedroom door. She could almost laugh at their own ridiculous corniness, if it weren’t for the thrill of anticipation in her chest. God, it’s been so long.]
Edited (sees TWO typos in this hours later ) 2018-06-14 02:53 (UTC)
[ Amos follows all too easily, the front door of her quarters sliding close softly behind him as she leads him. If he was to contemplate it, he'd think that he didn't actually expect this to happen. But he's not exactly contemplating anything, here.
He watches the curve and sway of her hips as she leads him to her room, eyes intent on her skin. But once they're in her room - barely more than a bunk - Amos doesn't resist reaching out, pulling Clara to him, her back to his chest, his hand splayed over her stomach. When he talks, it's right against the tip of her ear as he leans close. ]
So... considering you have no pulse, how am I supposed to get your blood pumping?
[The room is cramped - the larger of the beds, belonging to Jess, is littered with her possessions, but blessedly empty, while Clara's is neatly made. A leather jacket hung off of a drawer pull and a volume of Shakespeare are the only signs that someone other than Jessica Jones inhabits this room.
She presses back, and for a moment she can feel Amos' heartbeat behind her shoulder. It sends a thrill through her chest, and she breathes in involuntarily, almost a stifled gasp. Okay, there's something she didn't foresee.]
Lock that door behind you and we can find out.
[She wants to get closer, to feel his heart beat through her own chest, to feel like it's her own. As soon as their privacy is ensured, she turns beneath his touch, until they're as close to chest-to-chest as her lack of height allows. Her hands press against his abdomen, only a little tentative, and slide up and over the generous expanse of his T-shirt, fingers tracing muscle along the way. Finally, they wind around his shoulders, and she gives a little tug, a signal of, "Either get down here or help me up there."]
[ He barely has to look over when he reaches over to the panel by the side of the door, swiping the lock command and hearing it click into place. From one moment to the next, Clara has turned around, and she's touching him, sliding her hands up to wrap around his neck, in a move that makes him smirk.
He follows right along her unspoken demand, his own hands moving to her ass and lifting her up easily, her weight nothing to him as he hoists her up in his arms. ]
[She wraps her knees tight around his waist; he's right where she wants him, clamped between her thighs, warm and solid and alive. One hand slides up into his short hair, nails dragging across his scalp.
Make me forget. Make me feel alive. It's a mantra in her head as she leans in to kiss him, soft but insistent, just testing the waters. Make me feel less empty.
Her free hand slides up his neck, and she runs her thumb over his jaw. If it dips down into the hollow where his pulse thrums, then maybe it's an accident. Maybe.]
[ Amos has never been much for kissing. He's never really had the opportunity, he guesses, for the kind of kisses romantics like Alex would reminisce about, the kind you get in the movies.
Kissing cost johns extra, when he was still in Baltimore. And Amos never really bothered with it when he was the one paying for his own entertainment. So the fact that Clara kisses him is a surprise, but it's also surprisingly - nice. Pressed against him as she is, she's warm, and her lips are plush, and Amos takes a few steps forward to press her back against the wall, freeing up a hand to touch her. Amos moves on instinct, kissing her like she's kissing him, licking her bottom lip, as his hand scans up her side, fingers slipping just under the band of her bra.
If he had words for what he wanted, he'd probably say that he wants to feel less empty, too. Less numb to the world and to everything happening around them, things that sometimes feel like they're happening to someone else entirely. Right now, he feels like he's here, not wanting to detach himself from the moment, and he clings to it, stepping in and pressing even closer to Clara as he does. ]
[Clara can't catch the small noise of encouragement that escapes her throat, with the wall at her back and his body pressed against hers, deft fingers beneath tight elastic. God, she feels like a bloody teenager, shagging in her dormitory after her first college party, but that's not about to stop her. She tugs his lip in between hers, a little hard, and tightens her legs' vice grip on his waist, hitching herself as close as she can get.
Yep, this could certainly make her forget about a lot of things. The pragmatist in her briefly wonders if she'll have a bruised back in the morning, but she decides to forget that as well. Forget, forget, forget. One distracted hand skates back down his body, just to his back, to bunch up his shirt. Off, please. She wants to get closer to that warmth.]
[ Amos pulls back enough to get his shirt off when Clara starts bunching it up, pinning her to the wall with his hips for a split second. It's enough, as he drops the shirt down onto her floor and moves back in, finding himself wanting more of her kisses, the taste of her lips.
His own fingers slip further under her bra once he's back at it, index finger brushing the underside of her breast, moving up to cup it as he rolls his hips against Clara's, letting himself go enough that he's already getting affected. It's a lazy build in his lower stomach, warmth spreading through his body, but he's determined to enjoy it, not letting his head wander to far off, or detach entirely from the situation.
It isn't like anything he's used to do. It's fine. ]
[She sucks in a breath she doesn't need at the brush of his fingers beneath her bra, and again at the press of his hips. Her fingers clench against his head, reacting to the warm thrill that goes through her stomach. It's been awhile since she was with someone this bold; usually she had to put Danny's hands on her herself.
Maybe next time - if there's a next time - she can take the time to run her eyes and her hands over Amos' chest, his arms, his back. Maybe, once her chest feels less full of fire, she can kiss the marks and the scars she glimpses there, smooth over them with her hands. She'd like that, even if he wouldn't.
For now, though, she just reaches down to pluck at her bra with her own hand, tugging it over where Amos' hand sits. This is already going fast, but she's ready for it to speed up a little more.]
[ Amos doesn't know how not to be bold. He wouldn't even think he's being extremely bold right now - compared to some of the things he's done, this is him being slow. He still looks back when Clara gets her bra off, a smile on his face as he's given the obvious permission, and he drops his head to her breasts, dragging his lips to a nipple, his thumb flicking over the other one.
He doesn't know for sure if she can feel this, if she is getting aroused, but judging by the sounds she's making, she is, and he is getting her blood going, however possible that is. He pulls back, licking at her nipple. ]
[Jesus. He's got a good mouth, the heat of his tongue shooting straight down, settling where her thighs meet. She keeps her grip tight on the back of his head, fingers clenched in his short hair, as though directing him to keep up his attentions. It's strange - even though she doesn't need to breathe, she finds herself starting to anyway, as though her body's forgotten.
After a moment of distracted thought, ] Sit down. [She jerks her head in the direction of the closest mattress - her own, the bunk bed, unfortunately, but she tries to be a polite roommate. And right now, she wants a lap to sit in.]
[ Well, for a dead girl, she's definitely reacting in all the right ways - or at least, ways Amos expects. Which is a good thing, because for once he does want to please someone, and for the sole reason that he enjoys her company.
So when she tells him to sit, Amos, goes, pulling Clara off of the wall, both hands returning to her ass until he's sitting on the bed - small, he notices - and she's straddling him. He tilts his chin up, hand sliding up her back, the other squeezing her ass and pulling her right against him, letting her feel his growing erection. ]
[She presses down on instinct, riding against the faint shape of him through the bulk of their jumpsuits. Jumpsuits that really need to come off, by the way. The sleeves of hers come untied with an easy tug, but she has to rise up onto her knees a little to try to tug it down any farther. She gives a little laugh as her first attempt just winds up with her swaying into him; the second, however, at least reveals most of her regulation briefs. They're practical and white, the fabric thin enough to give a glimpse of dark curls beneath.]
[ This won't do. Even with her jumpsuit slightly down, it's just not enough, and Amos manhandles Clara into standing between his legs, hands pushing down at her jumpsuit until it pools at her feet, allowing her to step out of it. But before she can sit back down, Amos pulls her close, lips at the elastic band of her underwear, fingers curling into it at her hips.
His nose presses into her skin, taking a moment to allow his heart to beat faster, for his body to respond to the feel, smell, taste of hers, and he looks up, licking his lips. ]
[Clara feels a clench of excitement in her stomach, and she's distracted enough that it shows on her face. This stupid man is really messing with her composure.]
Be my guest.
[Not quite sure how he wants this, she makes a snap decision and takes initiative. She pushes his chest back, lowering him down onto the bed; it's just wide enough to fit the top half of his body. Her hand still splayed against him, Clara climbs up to straddle his body, losing her last article of clothing along the way. She doesn't stop at his hips, however. Completely and unabashedly on display, she settles on his chest, knees on either side of his head. Her smile is bold and cocky, but she still gives a polite little, ] This okay?
[Good. What's the point of composure when you're about to see each other naked?
Clara pushes Amos down onto the bed and he goes easily, muscles relaxed as his shoulders hit the thin mattress. She loses her underwear along the way and Amos's eyes just drink her in, all curves and soft skin, more beautiful than most women he's had in his bed in the past.
He grins at Clara, pulling her closer with his hands on her ass, licking his lips again. ]
[And she does, eyes locked as she scoots forward the rest of the way. One hand cards through Amos’ short hair, and the other reaches to rest against his chest. Finally, she eases herself into reach of his mouth.]
[ With the slight smirk still on his face, Amos wraps his hands around Clara's thighs and leans up a little, muscles engaging as his lips meet hers. He opens his mouth, licking between her folds before tilting his chin, sucking at her clit, tongue flicking against it.
His eyes stay fully open, looking up at Clara, drinking in her reactions. Let's see if he can make a girl without a pulse come. ]
[She can’t help but shudder at the first touch, her thighs tensing. He’ll find her warm, wet, wanting; she’d been thinking about it for some time before she texted him, just wondering how it might feel to be grounded like this, to force some feeling into her body.
So far, it feels excell- oh, especially when he does that. The soft moan in her throat and the tiny buck her hips give aren’t for show, though she knows his eyes are on her. She catches his gaze, and smiles down at him. There’s a charmingly wicked glint in her eye.]
[ He wonders if the obvious arousal he can taste on the tip of his tongue is normal, expected, of it's surprising Clara herself that she's feeling it, engaged and willing and wanting. He wonders how much she feels and doesn't feel on a daily basis, how her body works at all. Someone without a pulse should be able to feel this warm, her clit shouldn't be pulsing against his lips.
It's intriguing him, making him push closer, fuck her with his tongue in earnest, fingers digging in her thighs. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
time becomes strange when you live on a spaceship
i'll be honest, i'm hoping you'll invite me over but i don't plan on staying the night
no subject
Which is to say, get over here and entertain me.
no subject
be right there
[ It's not like it's a long walk, either - their quarters are both on Deck 6, so it's just a short jaunt down the corridor to Clara's quarters, his boots clicking loudly in the otherwise quiet space. He walks past the rooms of his crew, past Prax's room, but - doesn't stop.
Not until he's at Clara's door, in his usual attire of boots, jumpsuit - the top half gathered around his hips, arms tied at the waist - and t-shirt, casually leaning against the wall as he knocks. ]
no subject
Hiya, stranger. [She waggles her fingers.] Come here often?
no subject
[ It's not a lie, and even less of a joke, even if he smirks at Clara. His eyes move down along her body in the most obvious way, not even trying to be subtle about it. ]
What kind of entertainment are you looking for, then?
no subject
Not sure, but it’s probably back there. [A toss of her head in the direction of her bedroom door. She could almost laugh at their own ridiculous corniness, if it weren’t for the thrill of anticipation in her chest. God, it’s been so long.]
lucky i was sleeping ;)
He watches the curve and sway of her hips as she leads him to her room, eyes intent on her skin. But once they're in her room - barely more than a bunk - Amos doesn't resist reaching out, pulling Clara to him, her back to his chest, his hand splayed over her stomach. When he talks, it's right against the tip of her ear as he leans close. ]
So... considering you have no pulse, how am I supposed to get your blood pumping?
no subject
She presses back, and for a moment she can feel Amos' heartbeat behind her shoulder. It sends a thrill through her chest, and she breathes in involuntarily, almost a stifled gasp. Okay, there's something she didn't foresee.]
Lock that door behind you and we can find out.
[She wants to get closer, to feel his heart beat through her own chest, to feel like it's her own. As soon as their privacy is ensured, she turns beneath his touch, until they're as close to chest-to-chest as her lack of height allows. Her hands press against his abdomen, only a little tentative, and slide up and over the generous expanse of his T-shirt, fingers tracing muscle along the way. Finally, they wind around his shoulders, and she gives a little tug, a signal of, "Either get down here or help me up there."]
no subject
He follows right along her unspoken demand, his own hands moving to her ass and lifting her up easily, her weight nothing to him as he hoists her up in his arms. ]
no subject
Make me forget. Make me feel alive. It's a mantra in her head as she leans in to kiss him, soft but insistent, just testing the waters. Make me feel less empty.
Her free hand slides up his neck, and she runs her thumb over his jaw. If it dips down into the hollow where his pulse thrums, then maybe it's an accident. Maybe.]
no subject
Kissing cost johns extra, when he was still in Baltimore. And Amos never really bothered with it when he was the one paying for his own entertainment. So the fact that Clara kisses him is a surprise, but it's also surprisingly - nice. Pressed against him as she is, she's warm, and her lips are plush, and Amos takes a few steps forward to press her back against the wall, freeing up a hand to touch her. Amos moves on instinct, kissing her like she's kissing him, licking her bottom lip, as his hand scans up her side, fingers slipping just under the band of her bra.
If he had words for what he wanted, he'd probably say that he wants to feel less empty, too. Less numb to the world and to everything happening around them, things that sometimes feel like they're happening to someone else entirely. Right now, he feels like he's here, not wanting to detach himself from the moment, and he clings to it, stepping in and pressing even closer to Clara as he does. ]
no subject
Yep, this could certainly make her forget about a lot of things. The pragmatist in her briefly wonders if she'll have a bruised back in the morning, but she decides to forget that as well. Forget, forget, forget. One distracted hand skates back down his body, just to his back, to bunch up his shirt. Off, please. She wants to get closer to that warmth.]
no subject
His own fingers slip further under her bra once he's back at it, index finger brushing the underside of her breast, moving up to cup it as he rolls his hips against Clara's, letting himself go enough that he's already getting affected. It's a lazy build in his lower stomach, warmth spreading through his body, but he's determined to enjoy it, not letting his head wander to far off, or detach entirely from the situation.
It isn't like anything he's used to do. It's fine. ]
no subject
Maybe next time - if there's a next time - she can take the time to run her eyes and her hands over Amos' chest, his arms, his back. Maybe, once her chest feels less full of fire, she can kiss the marks and the scars she glimpses there, smooth over them with her hands. She'd like that, even if he wouldn't.
For now, though, she just reaches down to pluck at her bra with her own hand, tugging it over where Amos' hand sits. This is already going fast, but she's ready for it to speed up a little more.]
no subject
He doesn't know for sure if she can feel this, if she is getting aroused, but judging by the sounds she's making, she is, and he is getting her blood going, however possible that is. He pulls back, licking at her nipple. ]
That how you want it? Against the wall like this?
no subject
After a moment of distracted thought, ] Sit down. [She jerks her head in the direction of the closest mattress - her own, the bunk bed, unfortunately, but she tries to be a polite roommate. And right now, she wants a lap to sit in.]
no subject
So when she tells him to sit, Amos, goes, pulling Clara off of the wall, both hands returning to her ass until he's sitting on the bed - small, he notices - and she's straddling him. He tilts his chin up, hand sliding up her back, the other squeezing her ass and pulling her right against him, letting her feel his growing erection. ]
no subject
no subject
His nose presses into her skin, taking a moment to allow his heart to beat faster, for his body to respond to the feel, smell, taste of hers, and he looks up, licking his lips. ]
I wanna go down on you.
no subject
Be my guest.
[Not quite sure how he wants this, she makes a snap decision and takes initiative. She pushes his chest back, lowering him down onto the bed; it's just wide enough to fit the top half of his body. Her hand still splayed against him, Clara climbs up to straddle his body, losing her last article of clothing along the way. She doesn't stop at his hips, however. Completely and unabashedly on display, she settles on his chest, knees on either side of his head. Her smile is bold and cocky, but she still gives a polite little, ] This okay?
no subject
Clara pushes Amos down onto the bed and he goes easily, muscles relaxed as his shoulders hit the thin mattress. She loses her underwear along the way and Amos's eyes just drink her in, all curves and soft skin, more beautiful than most women he's had in his bed in the past.
He grins at Clara, pulling her closer with his hands on her ass, licking his lips again. ]
C'mere.
no subject
Take it away, space man.
no subject
His eyes stay fully open, looking up at Clara, drinking in her reactions. Let's see if he can make a girl without a pulse come. ]
no subject
So far, it feels excell- oh, especially when he does that. The soft moan in her throat and the tiny buck her hips give aren’t for show, though she knows his eyes are on her. She catches his gaze, and smiles down at him. There’s a charmingly wicked glint in her eye.]
no subject
It's intriguing him, making him push closer, fuck her with his tongue in earnest, fingers digging in her thighs. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)