timewasting | OPEN POST 2020.

[ she hums to herself, amused at his assertion of how many people hate him, which is . . . probably true. kaz has made few friends in his rise to the top, which suits inej just fine. the friends you make when climbing to the top tend to be horrible people. kaz has been lucky, in that regard.

once his shoulder feels a little more loose, she shifts her attention to his back, running her fingers along the shirt before she dips to kiss his temple. his hand on her knee causes her to smile a little; he must be feeling a little better, if he's seeking out contact. ]

You really should go take a hot shower.

[ though she knows that's going to be a losing battle, running her hand along his back gently. ]

[ It's true he's made few friends in the Barrel. Especially with his quick ascension—not only to being the boss of the Dregs, but prior to that in his rise to becoming a lieutenant. He's young and possibly the youngest to do both in such a short amount of time.

Frankly, having only a small amount of friends has worked out. He's not a very trusting person to begin with and having too many people vying for his attention sounds exhausting in that regard. There's also the matter of him not even considering people friends up until recently. Or rather, not wanting to admit it. Some days, he still struggles with it, though he's starting to make his peace with the fact that emotions are okay. ]

Yeah, but you aren't there.

[ Everything about his tone is reluctant, even if it's a good idea. Maybe he'll haul himself to the bathroom later, though. For now, he rolls onto his back—carefully—so he can actually look at her. The bruises protest, but he can ignore those for now. He gently takes her hand, momentarily threading their fingers together as he studies her face. ]

[ she's about to tell him that he doesn't need her to be there in order to take a shower when he rolls onto his back. and inej withdraws her hand, clearly hesitant as he rolls over, taking her hand and threading their fingers together. ]

You are going to be bedridden tomorrow if you do that.

[ a little chiding, though she lets him hold her hand, amused. and she tilts her head a little. ]

What is it?

Maybe. [ He'll make up for it later, when he actually goes to bed. By then, he thinks he'll be ready to follow her advice and take the hottest shower imaginable before sleeping.

That's for later, though. ]

I'm glad you're here. [ Has he said this yet, since she's gotten back? Even if he has, it bears repeating. He unthreads their fingers but lifts her hand up so he can kiss the back of it, some of the stifled affection from earlier starting to bubble to the surface.

Really, he's still reeling from being told she loves him. Mostly in that he feels the same, fiercely. Every time he thinks of her his pulse ticks up, a little flutter of joy. Just getting the words out is difficult at best. ]

[ he kisses the back of her hand and she smiles a little, lifting her free hand to brush his hair back. ]

I am glad I’m here, too.

[ she murmurs, tone warm, hand shifting to cup his face, running a thumb over his cheek. ]

Even though you grind my very last nerve.

[ She pets his hair back and he closes his eyes momentarily, enjoying the touch. It's one of the safer ones, since it's less skin touching.

He looks up at her again when her hand cups his cheek, giving her a small grin. ]

My special talent, clearly. [ Extremely special. His hand comes to settle over hers, stroking down to her wrist and forearm. He misses this, when she's gone. The little that they can do. ]

Come here and kiss me, maybe I'll feel better faster.

[ what a brat.

she arches her eyebrows at his request, and she shifts her weight a little so her hip is against his side, leaning over a little . . . almost as if she’s going to kiss him. and, maybe centimeters away from his lips, she murmurs: ]

You are going to have to try harder than that, Mr. Brekker.

[ and she shifts upwards to kiss his forehead gently. ]

Especially after grinding my last nerve.

[ Her eyebrows go up but she comes closer, though he gets the feeling he won't be getting exactly what he wants. His opinion is shifting as she leans closer.

And then she stops, close enough for him to bridge the gap. But she's rightfully making it more difficult—he has been aggravating. He huffs a bit of a laugh as she goes to kiss his forehead. Definitely deserved that one. ]

Inej, my darling, come kiss me please?

[ Look, he has manners sometimes. ]

[ she knows, by the tone of his voice when he says her name, that he’s gearing up for a second attempt. and it’s a fairly good one: he even says please.

so she leans over him, expression contemplative, as she gently runs her fingers along his cheek.

she does love and adore him, wholly and completely, even when he grinds her last nerve. she would do absolutely anything for him, including (but not limited to) give her life to make sure he is safe.

but, at the end of the day, he was an asshole. so: ]

You only call me “my darling” when you want something.

[ a bit wryly — and it’s mostly true, though lately his “requests” have been “come to bed” or “let’s have dinner,” so his wants really aren’t all that egregious or taxing. or even really a lot of effort, on her behalf, and she typically gets something out of it, too.

but she does lower herself for a soft brush of her lips against his, shifting to kiss his cheek, before she adds: ]

Though now I’m worried you have a concussion; you never say please. Best you take it easy.

[ At least this time around she seems to be contemplating whether she should or not. The judgmental arch of her brows has lowered. She hasn't walked away yet, though, and her fingers are gently stroking down his cheek. Which is a good sign, he thinks. It's a light enough touch that he has to suppress an involuntary shiver, feeling the urge to touch her spread like cream poured in coffee.

Especially as she just barely brushes her lips to his and then to his cheek. A tease. ]

You are my darling, though. [ And maybe he feels a twinge of knee-jerk embarrassment at saying it without his usual wry tone. It's just so...genuine. Something he's still adjusting to. ]

I have manners. [ Not often. And he isn't pushing himself too much. Though certainly, laying on his back is probably not the best position. At least his lack of movement means the aches have settled to a dull throb. In some aspects, it feels strangely good. ]

You have absolutely no manners.

[ with half a laugh, lightly playing with a loose lock of hair. she enjoys it when he’s like this, half undone and relaxed. he looks younger — or, well, his age. she supposed neither of them have ever been young, not after ketterdam seized their innocence.

still, it makes him feel vulnerable. seeing him like this. which she quietly adores.

so she does lower herself for a kiss — a real one, this time, her thumb stroking his cheek, before she murmurs: ]

I do like being your darling, though.

[ so he should be rewarded for that, at least. ]

Some. Occasionally.

[ The Barrel isn't known to raise polite young boys or girls. However, he does have a few things he won't budge on, no matter how much other Barrel bosses might sneer about it being stupid. Generally, they don't know much of anything, so he doesn't count their opinions.

Which, whatever. They don't matter right now because she's finally kissing him. And he presses into it a little, a rush of giddiness going through him. Today's a good day, despite everything. His hand pets down her back, palm settling on her hip. Once she pulls away, he licks his lips, as if chasing the impression. ]

You always have been. [ Even if he's been monumentally dumb about expressing it. ]

[ there's a slight grin, and inej ducks down again for another kiss, the movement soft and gentle, mindful that he's injured.

she can tell, that he wants more, to touch and feel, but he really should be mindful of his injuries. including his leg. which he isn't going to be happy about, inej preventing this from escalating into something that will absolutely cause him to cringe. so she pulls away, but she remains close, resting her forehead against his. ]

And you have always been a thorn in my side that has ground my last nerve until I wanted to strangle you.

[ she says quietly, amused, before she shifts to kiss his forehead again, affectionate. ]

But you are the treasure of my heart, regardless.

[ He does want more, despite the injuries. They're not that bad.

(Or perhaps he's just gotten used to ignoring certain levels of pain).

The smart thing to do would be to rest up and come back to the idea later, when there isn't a chance of making the bruising worse. Or reopening some tender wounds. They're bandaged but enough strain could get them to bleed again. He sighs a little after she pulls away, enjoying the kiss and maybe a bit wistful. ]

I try not to aggravate you as much as I do everyone else.

[ That's uh. Still a work in progress, obviously. ]

Humor me for a minute. [ He says, voice bright with an obvious idea. ]

[ she rolls her eyes at his first comment, returning to gently stroking his hair out of his eyes. and she's about to suggest that he close his eyes and take a nap when he decides

to continue to press his luck. ]

You see, right now, you are grinding my last nerve. Because you do not know when to quit.

[ informatively; she's clearly not angry or upset. but curiosity bites at her heels, and she tilts her head, eyes narrowing a little as she watches his stupid scheming face. ]

What, exactly, am I supposed to humor you with?

[ Not knowing when to quit is certainly one of his traits that's a double edged sword. Most of the time, it's useful—after all, it's how he's made it this far in the Barrel.

It also often annoys people. Or gets him into trouble. Which he then leans on the same trait to get him out of. A vicious cycle.

Though, she certainly isn't irritated, as much as he's being a pest. Instead, there's a curious tilt to her head. ]

Sit across my hips. [ Logically, it's just a better angle. ] I want to kiss you again.

[ Unlike his usual requests, though, he adds: ] If you want to.

[ They're still figuring out what works and what doesn't, after all. ]

[ she raises her eyebrows slightly, at his request, and she glances at his body, weighing out the risks.

there is always a risk, when they engage in something like this. but he seems to be fine, and inej really has no idea what sets her off and what doesn’t. it tends to happen suddenly and without warning.

there’s also the matter that he’s injured. but that’s his own fault.

so inej shifts a little, easily straddling his hips, resting most of her weight on her knees. and for a tenuous moment, inej tests her own capacity, but feeling no anxiety (yet), inej looks down at him with an amused expression. ]

Alright?

[ she weighs practically nothing so even if she was fully resting on his hips, he would probably be fine. ]

Edited 2020-08-15 00:57 (UTC)

[ There's a bit of tension hanging between them, as there usually is when they try something new. She seems to be weighing whether it's worth it, taking his injuries into account as well as her own memories. It's just a quick flick of her gaze but it's one he's gotten used to. He's sure his expression says something similar whenever she asks him to touch her differently.

Eventually, she swings one leg over, perfectly balanced as always. An involuntary flush colors his cheeks, mind going a bit sideways as he looks at her. Blinking, he clears that away and sits up a bit, ignoring the pinch of bruises. He leans in to kiss her, one hand just above her knee. It's gentle at first, a continuation of where they left off. ]

Yes, definitely. [ Murmured against her mouth before he kisses her again, clearly wanting. ]

[ he moves and she frowns against his mouth a little — but he confirms that he’s fine, and the pain clearly isn’t bothering him that much. so she returns the kiss gently, taking his face into her hands. it feels . . . Fine, so far. good, even. there isn’t even a tug at her anxiety, or her memories, like this. not like when kaz leans over her in the morning, or lays on her.

something to analyze later. ]

We are not doing much more than this.

[ she warns, running her thumbs over his cheeks, before she kisses him again, murmuring: ]

You just got stitches, someone has to be the responsible adult.

[ She hasn't settled much of her weight across his hips but what little he can feel is...well, it's nice. He likes the solidity and her knees bracketing on either side.

There's also the realization she hasn't pulled away or felt tense at all. Interesting. ]

Hmm, alright. [ Honestly this is good. Different and affecting him more than he thought it would. He kisses her again, hand sliding from her knee to her hip, processing the idea as much as he's simply enjoying this. ]

[ normally, when they’ve tried this in the past, she’s had to stop the moment she feels his hands edging near her waist, her stomach. but like this, she doesn’t feel any spark of fear or anxiety. instead, she grins a little into his kiss, deepening the kiss a little as she presses forward. ]

You’re not listening very well.

[ she murmurs, shifting to loop her arms around his neck. as if she’s actually stopping him at all. ]

[ She stays right where she is, even when his hand settles on her waist. There's no immediate negative response, not like the one they've gotten used to the few times they've tried this.

Of course, none of them had featured her technically on top like this. Maybe they're onto something. Certainly, he can't complain. Not when he can keep the weight off his leg and kiss her at the same time. ]

Someone's encouraging me. [ He retorts, though there's absolutely no heat in it. Instead, he presses another deep kiss to her lips, the corner of his mouth quirked up enough that she's sure to feel it. His hand moves from her hip up along her side—slowly, carefully, staying above the fabric. As much as he's tempted to lift the hem, this was daring enough for one day. ]

[ she’s accepted, by now, that being gentle and slow is the easiest way to get through this. and as much as part of her wants to keep going, and let him tug up her shirt, and push him down against the bed, inej knows that she likely can’t do that. not yet.

but as his hands start to wander, her breath catches a little — anticipating a sudden seizing panic and terror in her chest, but nothing comes. she only feels warm, and happy, and — perhaps most importantly - safe.

so she presses her forehead to his with a breath, to collect her senses for a moment, before saying (a little surprised): ]

I am okay.

[ it’s a soft reassurance, almost more for her sake than his, as she allows her arms to remain loosely looped around his neck, still straddling his hips. and she considers that for a moment, that she feels okay, before she shifts to press her lips against his cheek. ]

Kiss my neck.

[ she wants to test this a little bit more, despite her earlier warnings of not wanting to push him too much. it’s rare that she feels relaxed and in control like this. she may as well take advantage of the moment.

but she does add, a little more quietly: ]

Gently.

[ she’s figured out the hard way that anything even remotely construed as aggressive sends her into a panic. ]

[ He hears her breath catch and pauses, pulling away a bit and setting his hand by her knee on the bed. They've tried this enough times that he's used to specific sounds, warning signs.

Except she doesn't move, instead pressing her forehead to his. She doesn't feel tense either, her weight still a relaxed thing settled across his hips. And then she's confirming that she's alright. Perhaps the catch in her breath had simply been one of anticipation for once.

She doesn't leave him to wonder too much about that, lips pressing to his cheek and requesting more. Really, she doesn't have to tell him twice. And as much as there's something thrilling about her actually asking for something, he feels his own pull of hesitation. Because they tried this, how many years ago, in the bathroom at the Geldrunner. She had lifted her chin just enough and he'd come so close.

They're different now, though. So he answers her with kisses to her cheek and jaw, before brushing a soft one to the side of her neck. His hand settles on her knee, thumb swiping gently along her thigh. ]

Okay? [ Her murmurs the question against her skin, checking in to be sure. ]

[ she stills, at the feeling of his lips against her neck, and there’s a tenuous moment where inej is convinced it’s going to fall apart. but . . . it doesn’t. her breathing is normal, and kaz is still within her space, relaxed — or as relaxed as he ever is. she can always feel a run of tension through him, when they attempt something like this, though inej is more convinced that he’s concerned about her reaction versus any dark memories he’s dealing with.

so, after a heartbeat or so of pause — ]

Mhm.

[ it’s a soft noise of reassurance, before she shifts her arms to loop around him a bit lower, to hold him a little closer, her fingers pressing (lightly) against his back. ]

It’s fine.

[ she almost sounds a little surprised, at that, but she shifts to kiss his temple, with a slight grin, as she relaxes a bit more fully, the tension of anticipation now gone. and, because encouragement is usually a good thing: ]

It feels nice.

Edited 2020-08-15 15:53 (UTC)

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