timewasting | OPEN POST 2020.

[ He inhales sharply when her fingers loosely circle his cock, the touch expected but still almost overwhelming. Some of the initial jolt lessens as she starts to move her hand, though he swears when she lightly rubs against him, the tease making him push his hips into it. ]

Someone else doesn't sound too interested in waiting. [ In theory, he could've lifted her straight off his lap, if he wanted. Though she also could've stopped straddling him at any point in the last couple minutes in this back and forth.

It seems the decision is made. Poor dinner. ]

[ she grins a little, the movement felt against his cheek, because blaming this on her is not going to work. but she soon takes the hint, adjusting her height slightly so she can lower herself into him. her legs move to wrap loosely around his waist, so she’s sitting properly on his lap, with a soft groan into his neck as she takes him.

truthfully, she’s still sensitive from their earlier escapade, and she rolls her hips slowly, to relish the feeling of him being inside her. and not for the first time, she thinks to herself how impossible this used to seem. but inej pushes that from her mind in favor of kissing his neck, lightly running her tongue against the flesh as she rolls her hips again.

her dinner was absolutely going to be ruined, but this seems to be worth it. ]

[ As she slowly takes him in, he keeps still, only his hand running up along her side. When she's finally got her legs wrapped around his waist, he echoes her soft sound, his hand dropping to the small of her back as and anchor point. Not that she needs it, already balancing.

She's still wet from earlier and he rolls his hips to meet hers, the sensation washing over him, making him feel a little too warm under his skin. In some ways, it's hard to imagine how this hadn't been possible for either of them a few years ago. She'd understandably locked up the first time she'd seen him hard. And he couldn't stand the arousal-damp feel of skin.

Somehow, they'd worked through it. Because now the shudder that goes through him when she licks at his neck isn't one of disgust. That's the furthest thing from his mind as he settles both hands on her hips, pushing up into her eagerly. He tilts his head, brushing his lips to her temple, tempted to bury his face in her hair. ]

[ she's genuinely not sure how she's managed to make it this far. a lot of patience, probably. and persistence. and acceptance that it will never be perfect, and that is okay.

she's not immune, to feeling the crawling feeling underneath her skin. sometimes, she wakes up in a panic. after she's dismantled another slaver ship, and she coaxes any survivors on board into safety, and she has to deal with the fallout mostly by herself. but she's found that that happens more frequently when she's alone, rather than with him.

at any rate, today is pretty close to perfect.

she exhales in a shuddered gasp at the first thrust, curling her fingers into his hair as she allows the feeling to wash over her. her breathing quick, rolling her hips in time with his.

she's not really too concerned about her own feeling, on this round. but it's hard to stop the soft noise into his temple, as she closes her eyes. ]

[ She'll never be very vocal—it goes against her nature, he thinks, at this point—but he still enjoys all the shivers and sighs. Knows what they indicate or when she's asking for more.

Right now, the pace feels good, just shy of laid-back. Neither of them are in a rush, despite the fact that dinner is most certainly going to be ruined, so he takes his time, keeping the push of his hips steady. Her chest is nearly pressed to his but he still sneaks a hand up, rolling a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Just to tease.

His other hand drops to loosely circle the base of his cock, one of his knuckles brushing against her clit. ]

[ his hands move from her hips to her chest and between her legs, and her back arches slightly at the dual sensation. there's a soft mmmm, muffled into his temple.

she elects to respond in turn (because this is about him, not her, despite how persistently he seems to focus on her) by shifting to face him properly, resting his forehead against hers as she captures him in a kiss, a soft noise of pleasure escaping against his lips as she rolls her hips a little more aggressively.

they do need to eat dinner eventually. ]

[ He returns the kiss with a muffled hum, feeling that build of tension in his gut. There's another jolt as she moves against him with more persistence and the hum turns into a groan, his control fraying.

The hand between her legs moves, rubbing where she's sure to still be a little sensitive. At the same time, he jerks his hips up quicker, knowing he isn't going to last much longer. Not with how she's moving, nor with the feel of her solid weight in his lap.

Pulling away from the kiss, he dips his head to press his lips to her jaw and then her neck, teeth gently scraping across the skin. ]

[ she can feel him beginning to slip, and she draws in a ragged breath at his hand between her legs. but it's really the culmination of that and the feeling of teeth on her skin that causes a jolt, her legs suddenly tightening around his waist as she struggles to both keep going, while resisting the urge to pull away at the sudden overwhelming of the senses.

it's quite nearly too much, which isn't necessarily a bad thing. and not too much in a bad way, but in a good way. in a delirious, elated way. in a "my legs keep twitching and i can't really control it" sort of way.

still. he hasn't finished yet, and so with another purposeful roll of her hips, which causes her to nearly cry out (but it comes out as more of a muffled hissed groan instead), she murmurs, right into his ear: ]

More.

[ she's not really sure she can take much more without dissolving into a puddle of goo on the floor, but he has always liked being ordered around for some reason. she may as well take advantage of it. ]

[ There's a little smirk pressed to her neck when he feels her legs twitch, recognizing the motion from her being still too sensitive. That doesn't mean he stops, of course. He rubs just enough, knowing more pressure would be too much.

And he's already feeling close, has been toeing that edge in and out ever since he'd gotten between her legs properly. But then she's telling him more and heat slides right through him. It's only a few more jerks of his hips and he's spilling into her with her name moaned pressed against her shoulder, his one arm looping around her middle to pull her in as close as possible. ]

[ it takes a few moments after he finishes for her to catch her breath, dizzy from adrenaline and the after-effects of coming down from the high . . . and she kisses his temple, comfortable and loose.

not all that intent on moving, really. her legs feel uncharacteristically weak, which is annoying. because it will give kaz reason for smugness, and that just can’t be tolerated.

she laughs softly into his ear, running her fingers along his back. ]

Dinner is probably ruined.

[ lazily, quietly. ]

[ Kaz rests his forehead on her shoulder and just catches his breath, feeling a bit floaty in the aftermath.

After a bit, he sighs, content, running his hands up her legs to her hips, settling there. He smiles at the sound of her laugh, shivering unintentionally at her fingers skating down his spine. ]

Worth it. [ Pulling away from her shoulder, he grins, cheeky, and leans forward to press a light kiss to her mouth. ]

But, I'll go check, might be salvageable. [ Doubtful, but he doesn't want to discount it until he's seen it. ] I suppose there's eggs, just in case.

[ Smart of her to get, even if that hadn't been the original plan. ]

[ she rolls her eyes a little at “worth it,” but leans in to return his kiss with one of her own, the movement soft and gentle, seemingly unwilling to either get up or let him go anywhere yet.

... it would probably be bad form for their new house to burn down for a silly reason. and so she sighs to herself, pulling away just enough to brush his hair out of his eyes, thinking to herself if she has five more minutes to just . . . sit here.

The answer is ultimately no, and so she kisses him once more before separating herself from him, wrapping her legs from around him to scoot backwards a little, getting onto her feet. and she stoops to collect his shirt — which is large enough to be a dress on her, really—shrugging into it to cover herself with a warm smile. ]

I don’t think it’s salvageable.

[ she says as she lets her fingers trail along his shoulder as she moves to the master bathroom to clean up. ]

But you are welcome to give it your best shot.

[ She doesn't seem keen on letting him up at first. Which. He can't really disagree with, enjoying how close she is and how relaxed they both are now. As she seems to debate with herself, he brushes some of hair off of her shoulders, twirling a length of it around his finger and then letting it loose.

Eventually, she does get up and... puts on his shirt. Part of him feels the tug of interest, though he knows he has to get up. For a second, he just stares and then blinks away the distraction, getting off the bed.

That isn't to say he doesn't toss a glance over his shoulder to watch her go to the bathroom, the fabric just brushing under her thighs. He tugs his pants back on and makes his way to the kitchen, turning off the oven and opening it, letting the smoke air out.

Ah. Well. Time for the backup plan. He's got time while Inej cleans up. ]

[ she really hasn't explored the master bathroom that much, but she notices (with approval) the massive bath tub and separate walk-in shower. and she's tempted to take a bath now, but dinner calls, first.

so she cleans up quickly. washes her face, and ties her hair into a loose ponytail so it's out of her face. she idly considers putting her own shirt back on, but that seems to be a waste of time, considering she was just going back into their bed.

she does find her underwear, though. that part seems important.

after that, she wanders back out to the kitchen, leaning against the countertop to put her chin in her hands, watching the ruined remains of dinner smolder on the countertop while kaz finishes up whatever breakfast for dinner he had managed in her absence.

and, once he takes notice of her, she offers him a slight grin. warm, and happy, and tired -- but, in a good way. ]

Not salvageable, then.

[ as she inclines her head toward the casualty of war that was the chicken. ]

[ He does get the pan out of the oven, letting it smolder on a far counter. It doesn't exactly have a great smell, but it isn't the worst kitchen mistake he's inhaled. Far worse has come out of the kitchen at the Slat on occasion.

Besides, this had been the product of something very Not A Mistake. Still worth it.

Another pan is fished out from under the counter—a good thing he ended up with utensils here, having to make himself lunch and dinner sometimes while working—and he puts together breakfast for dinner instead. Eggs fried into the circle of the bread, the cut out toasted so it didn't got to waste.

He's carefully pressing one with a spatula when she comes in, still wearing his shirt. Which is just as distracting as it usually is. Especially when in combination with that grin she's directing his way, her hair pulled up but still draping down, part of it spilling over a shoulder. ]

Some of the chicken seems to be, but it needed to cool. [ The squash was a lost cause. ] After this, I'll need my shirt back.

[ she purses her lips in thought, as she watches him continue to make dinner, a soft hum escaping as she considers his proposal. ]

I think you are fine, without the shirt.

[ she decides, watching the bread toast. she's starving, now that she's taken time to really think about food. the smell isn't helping.

and, to punctuate her point, she tugs the shirt back onto her shoulder a bit more. it's massive on her, and keeps threatening to slip. whoops. ]

You don't look like you need it now.

[ Well, he could take it back in the morning. Part of him wants to get it done tonight though– the trip back to the Slat is somewhat long. But, they'd have clothes for tomorrow if he did it after dinner.

Then again, she is very good at convincing him not to do certain things. So it might be put off for the morning anyway.

He flips the bread and pushes a plate towards her, two pieces already finished sitting one on top of the other. ]

Yeah? See something you like?

[ Someone please kick him. ]

[ there’s a pause as she accepts her plate, and before she can stop it, a laugh escapes — almost uncharacteristically loud (for inej), before she stifles it with a hand, the laugh reduced into a faint giggle before she says: ]

Maybe.

[ as she collects a fork to begin, though her eyes are bright, and still focused on him. ]

I do like being made dinner.

[ you dweeb. ]

[ His comment seems to startle a laugh out of her and his cheeky grin changes into an amused one; there's the laugh. The one he wishes he could bottle, though he hears it more often now than he used to. ]

Hmm, noted.

[ He picks up the other plate, depositing the finished toast on it. Another piece of bread takes its place in the pan after and he cracks an egg carefully into the middle, letting it set. ]

I was going to go back to the Slat after dinner. Our clothes are still over there.

[ aaah. that makes sense, then, why he would need his shirt. and she slowly chews the first bite of her meal in thought, trying to figure out the best way to do this. ]

I could go get them, if you wanted.

[ she would be faster, skipping over the rooftops. ]

It wouldn’t take too long.

You were going to take a bath, right? [ He glances over at her, questioning, before turning his attention back to the pan. ]

I can go while you do that. [ Relax, Inej. She'd already gotten the ingredients for dinner, anyway. ]

[ she wrinkles her nose, at the question, because she did say she wanted to do that . . . and she cuts off another piece of her toast with her fork. she considers arguing, but a bath did sound nice. and really, the only excuse for inej going instead of kaz was his leg.

so she pops another bite into her mouth, acquiescing with a hummed: ]

Alright.

[ she may as well enjoy her new bath, if kaz is insistent on going. ]

Everything I have should still be in my bag by the bed, so it shouldn't be too heavy.

[ She wrinkles her nose and all he thinks is: cute. Just another moment in a series of them where he's counting his luck. He's not entirely sure how he ended up here, but he certainly isn't going to complain. ]

Is there anything on the ship? [ Usually she brings most of her clothes when she's intent on staying on land for a while. At least she would have the bulk of it from the Slat.

Though he already figures their closet is going to seem comically sparse, neither of them having had the space to keep many clothes. Or anything, really. ]

Nothing that can't wait until tomorrow.

[ with a shrug of her shoulders, taking another bite. she feels . . . properly relaxed, for the first time in a long time. eagerly looking forward to spending the rest of the night in a bath and pajamas.

now that she thinks of it, a bath sounds much better than racing across the rooftops toward the slat. ]

Everything important is already at the Slat.

Fair enough.

[ He finishes up his batch of dinner and extinguishes the stovetop, letting the pan cool. Stepping closer to her end of the counter, he leans against it and they chatter idly, working through vague ideas on what they want where, what to do with the rooms upstairs. Talking about something so mundane isn't totally new to him, but it's not their usual topic.

Soon enough, they polish off their dinner and he shoos her off to start her bath, knowing how much she's been looking forward to it. There's hot water in the Slat, but it doesn't compare—the bathroom is shared, after all. Here, she can soak without someone knocking on the door and complaining they need to take a piss.

When he's done in the kitchen, he can hear the water running from behind the cracked bathroom door. And above that, the occasional snatch of a humming sound. She's left his shirt hanging from the doorknob and he changes, pulling it on with his tie and coat, smoothing out any wrinkles where he can. Well, it's mostly dark, it's not totally noticeable. Collecting his cane once more, he makes his way out of the house, locking the front door behind him.

(Not that a lock would keep a lockpick away but...it is a very complicated one. Of course).

The walk back to the Slat is an uneventful one, though the East Stave is in full swing when he crosses over the Zentsbridge. It's a familiar weave in and out of the crowds back to the Barrel and he manages to avoid most of the questions when he gets back to the Slat. Anika looks at him with a knowing glance and he chooses to set off on climbing the three flights of stairs instead of deign her with an answer.

It takes a little time to pack up what he'll need in the more immediate future—the rest can wait. He takes up her bag and his own, neither of them very heavy, and starts his walk back. This time, thankfully, not stopped by anyone on his way out.

By the time he gets back, he's ready to turn in for the night. Maybe after a shower. He sets her bag at the end of the bed and his on the floor before sitting on the edge of the mattress and promptly flopping back into it. ]

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