sunseeker | an ill-advised venture (for sarcaskick)

I'm to set the tone, am I? Hm.

[ There's things she would like to ask; she's the sort to delve into people's hopes and dreams. What motivates them. She is, however, at least vaguely aware she's issued some sort of challenge, so she'll have to uphold that somehow. ]

Alright... Never have I ever faked affection in order to get into one's drawers.

[ It feels it could go an interesting direction, at least. ]

...

[ . . . ]

I mean, I'd argue that they mistook flattery for affection, but...

[ ... but he still takes a drink, is the thing. Sure, maybe he intentionally toed the line sometimes. He's not a hero. ]

I'm hurt that that's where your mind went first, though. Heartbroken.

Oh...? [ That's interesting. She wasn't expecting to touch upon something form the first. In truth, she's less curious about whatever happened than the fact he did not choose to lie about it; it would have been simple enough. Though her thoughts end at simple curiosity. A touch less wine and she might be making all kinds of hare-brained theories trying to figure him out right now. ] Well... The knowledge is safe with me. It's as I said before--I wouldn't want to make things too easy.

[ Though she is not drinking herself. ]

I suppose you'll be wanting revenge now?

[ When the job doesn't call for it, Mercury is... generally not a liar. He's too shameless to feel like he has to lie, for better or (usually) worse. ]

I would.

[ The question, now is this: does he want to use this as a chance to actually learn something about her, or to just make her drink?

The former can come later; for now, revenge. ]

Never have I ever had sex in the middle of a crowded tavern.

Like this one.

Oh, I...

[ She swallows; her throat suddenly feels a bit dry. Mayhap she deserved that. ]

Not ... in the the middle of one, no.

[ She's not embarrassed, but she does suddenly feel somewhat frozen into place. Is it purely for the shock value, or could he be thinking about...?

She crosses her her ankles under the table. Though she is not aware of it, her tail is beginning to give an agitated little flick. ]

[ Ah. For the first time tonight, there's a crack in her armor, and unfortunately even in his increasingly inebriated state Mercury isn't one to let an opportunity slip by. There's a curl of his lips, a gleam in his eye that the alcohol can't properly dull. ]

"Not in the middle"? So... behind the tavern, then? Or on the roof, you sly thing?

[ He rests his chin in the palm of his hand, eyeing her expectantly. Whether for an answer or for her to drink, who's to say. ]

.... Private room. Nothing so bold.

[ Her tone has grown surprisingly meek, unable to meet his gaze for reasons she can't understand. It's hardly anything to be ashamed of, so why does she suddenly feel so... so something.

She sighs, and forces herself to lift her head. ]

Congratulations. You've found an adventure I haven't had.

[ Though she wonders what he'll do with such information. ]

[ There's a certain satisfaction, here, in knowing that - if perhaps only for a moment - he was able to make the famed Warrior of Light timid with just some crass remarks. But he straightens back up, lifting a finger as if to correct her. ]

Haven't had yet.

[ ... what does that mean-- ]

But no need to dwell on it, right? I think that makes it your turn again.

You're teasing me.

[ ... Obviously. Though she's disappointed in how flushed she still is despite knowing that. He really got her, didn't he? And now she keeps thinking about--

Dear gods.

Eye for an eye would be best here, but instead of scrambling for another question, she lifts a finger in signal to wait, and takes a very large portion of drink. Damn the rule of waiting for a question, she needed that. ]

I'm sorry? I've... lost my train of thought.

I might be.

[ Oh. Oh, this is good. He was worried that she'd delve into topics of feelings and family and honestly neither topic could go anywhere good, but he managed to get her stuck on his terms, in the muck where he regularly finds himself dwelling.

This is his game to win, even if this game wasn't really made to have a winner.

So he'll actually get up and slowly, deliberately, drag his chair around until it's next to hers, sitting back down in newfound proximity before meeting her gaze with a smirk. ]

Take your time. I've got all night.

[ Her heart is pounding in her ears, and that motion... does not help. Of course, she's not naive. She well understands that's the point. ]

You must think yourself very clever.

[ She pulls in a breath. Focus. Regain control of herself. Breathe out, let her smile return. She leans in somewhat, dragging a finger down his along his chest. ]

I did promise action. Is that what you want, then? A wall in one of darker corners, hoping nobody sees?

[ She would not actually consider this something low, but something new and exciting between ... friends? She does wish she'd managed a clearer answer on that earlier in the night. ]

I have a good thought from time to time.

[ What's especially funny to him is that she had asked him about his intentions earlier - and, with full honesty, he had answered that he didn't really have any. At the time, he couldn't have predicted things would swing just this way, and while he had certainly spoken suggestively he had mostly assumed she would deflect.

But just because he didn't have any intentions before didn't mean he lacked any now.

He doesn't retreat from the touch - in fact he reciprocates it with a touch of his own, his hand resting just above her knee with a light squeeze. ]

If you think I care about being seen, then you haven't really got me all figured out yet.

[ Good thoughts indeed. That's the problem with being a creature of impulse--things get taken too seriously, one too many called bluffs escalates. .... Not that she's complaining. Though a somewhat nervous laugh does spill from her lips. ]

That... was more for mine own benefit. An illusion of security, as it were.

[ She knows full well everyone is present is going to know what they're doing regardless of where they do it. But the idea of being pressed up against that back wall, mostly clothed feels ... safer, somehow, in spite of knowing better. Though it's not as though she's saying no either way.

Her palm flattens against his chest, and she tilts her head. ]

Might I kiss you?

[ An innocent question, given the context, but she'll still ask. Some seem to find the action too emotional, after all. ]

[ How?

Certainly, he had moved quickly with women before. A mutual agreement of the need for some physical relief, an itch that required impersonal scratching, an impulse sated with feelings left somewhere far behind. Those things, he was used to.

The fact that she requests the kiss, rather than simply taking it, is alien.

The fact that his stomach flutters even slightly - the fact that her request brings about the thought of her disarming smile from not long ago - is even moreso.

But, at the end of the day, Mercury is not one to deny his desires even when he questions them. So while one hand stays rested atop her leg, the other sneaks around the back of her head, fingertips grazing her nape. ]

You'd better, before I go mad.

[ Oh, thank the Twelve. She'd listen to whatever answer, of course, but working her away around that matter if he had said no would have been difficult. As it turns out, she wants to kiss him. Really, truly wants to, to a degree she's not certain she's comfortable examining.

Her fingers curl into the fabric of Mercury's shirt, and she pulls herself to his lips. Gently at first, pausing to feel the heat of his breath against her mouth, the lingering scent of the alcohol they've been consuming. She pulls back for a brief moment to look into his eyes, searching. Considering.

She thinks of testing that before I go mad bit, but being in much the same predicament, the desire to satiate herself wins over. She moves in to kiss him again--properly, this time. There's a deliberateness to it, the motions of her mouth slow and precise, yet so too is there a hunger there, a wanting of more. She ignores that, for now; she'd rather pace herself. ]

[ The way she kisses, too, is alien. "Gentle" generally doesn't fit into his vocabulary (unless it's accompanied by "teasing"), be it on the battlefield or in the bedroom or anywhere in-between. There are reasons for that. There is, in fact, a lot to unpack there. Thank goodness their mouths are otherwise occupied.

Alien, however, does not translate to bad - though truth be told there's more satisfaction to be found in the second kiss, when she begins pressing her lips to his in earnest, leading his fingers to thread through her hair in a light grip. The urge is there to go on the attack, so to speak, but there's a certain pleasure in letting her set the pace, feeling her lead the escalation.

It's nice to feel desired.

So he returns the kiss unhurriedly, savoring the hint of mulled wine on her lips; their drinks, now forgotten on the table, observe silently. His hand glides up her leg, palm running along her thigh before traveling back down, then up again in a slow rhythm. None of this had necessarily been his intention when he first invited her to the tavern.

But what will be, will be. ]

[ She can feel her breathing beginning to slow, each little breath growing heavier. There is a temptation to escalate things, and yet she finds herself continuing to want to move slowly, to drink deep of it until she can no longer stand it.

She's uncertain where she's found the patience.

She does move to undo his jacket, making eye contact as she slides doen the zipper, but she chooses not to remove it. It's simply easier to slide her fingers under his shirt this way, one hand squeezing his hip. The other, delicately tracing his abs. The feeling of skin under her fingertips helps ground, gives her hands something to do so she doesn't get overwhelmed.

Though she pulls her face back after a moment, flushed. It's getting.... Difficult to keep this up. ]

Can we move? [ she's almost loathe to, but truly, anywhere would do. The back wall, the stairwell, the bar, the filthy mattress kept upatairs-- ] I want to feel... smothered.

[ To be pinned into place, have his full weight pressing against her.

Perhaps she's losing her patience more quickly than she thought. ]

[ He wonders, at first, if she's actually going to go for the middle-of-a-crowded-tavern scenario when she unzips his jacket, sneaks her fingers beneath his shirt. Would he stop her? No... no, probably not. He has no grand reputation to uphold, and he always preferred living in the moment with no regard for the consequences.

It gets him in trouble sometimes. Trouble can be fun.

But she draws away, giving him the chance to take in the sight of her again - the new hint of color in her cheeks, the haze that comes over one's eyes when they're lost in the heat of the moment. It's a good look on her; he looks forward to seeing it again in the future.

... The future? No, no. Live in the moment.

Her request now is far less innocent than when she had simply asked to kiss, bringing out a low chuckle as his hand circles from the back of her head to cup her chin in his fingers. ]

Sure. But not too far.

[ The hand at her thigh slides up again, this time not stopping to retreat back to her knee but instead advancing further and further up, until his thumb finds itself pressed firmly between her legs. ]

I don't really think I can wait much longer.

[ Truth be told, the thought that she could even be allowed to back down hasn't occurred to her. She has a bad habit of being too honest--of taking what could be construed as a suggestion to heart. It might betray a certain innocence, but therein lies the rub: though she doesn't live on the shady underside of it, she's still a thrill-seeker at heart. A stubborn, impulsive one, easily swept in flights of fancy, at that. Such is like to make little quips dangerous, and so it is that the idea of saving her own dignity doesn't does not come to mind.

She's committed to her path. Thinking has been long abandoned. Foresight, she never had much to begin with.

Her breath hitches at where his finger lands, her fingers curling ever so slightly. She isn't going back on what she said she wants, but it's made it quite difficult to muster the willingness to stand. Her hips seem to want to rock into it on their own. ]

... Nor I.

[ She gives a weak smile, diluted by her own state of need, and disentangles herself to rise to her feet, relecutantly. She grabs one of Mercury's hands and pulls him along, not thinking much of it, or whether he'll chose to go along with it or not. But either way, she does not think she could wander far if she wanted to right now. Just a few feet, as the plan was all along. (A plan in her mind. Not an idea.)

She places her back against the wall and waits. ]

[ Of course he'll go along with it, and not just because there are a few ales influencing his mentality. There's a time and place to show defiance or to be difficult, and there's a time and place to go with the flow. It's true that he tends to lean hard towards defiance, often when he shouldn't (which, again, gets him in trouble) but when the reward is right in front of him it's easy to comply.

How far will she take them? A room wouldn't be the end of the world, but he was hoping for something a little less safe, a little more-- he can't even finish wondering about it before she's already stopped, positioning herself against the wall, and he's as relieved as he is excited.

She's fun.

She also doesn't have to wait long at all. There isn't another clever remark to foreshadow his advance - one step forward and he's on her, lips crushed against hers with ravenous intent, urging her legs apart so he can settle into place between them, their bodies flush against each other. His hands seek her hips as if to keep her still while his hips roll forward, pressing her against the wall with desperate friction.

"Smothered" was the word, wasn't it? ]

[ She exhales in relief at the contact, widening her legs compliantly, more than inviting him to press against her. Especially like that. Her hands snake around to his back, once again finding their way up his shirt. She soothes encouraging circles against his skin, pulling him towards her as though to encourage more weight. To not simply be held against the wall, but to all but crushed into it. The kisses are returned with equal hunger, though she does tilt her head, hoping she can guide him to her neck. She wishes could return that grinding motion, but with her hips held in place, she can but strain them somewhat.

Anyone could simply glance at them and know what they're doing--they are not being subtle. But she still has some sort of instinct to preserve her last little shred of dignity, breaths coming in sharp exhales. Biting down on her lip if she suspects she's about to make a noise. ]

I...

[ ... can't take much more of this, evidently. Her hands begin to trail towards his pants. ]

[ Her hands at his back get the message across as he leans into her aggressively; she may be small but she certainly isn't dainty, and he isn't going to treat her like a doll that may break if played with too roughly. He conveys that message in return when she offers him her neck, his lips and teeth finding her skin to not only kiss but bite, certain to leave some marks that are bound to last long enough to be the subject of some questioning gazes.

Not that questioning gazes are apparently a concern for either of them, all but rutting against the wall where anyone might see. But this isn't exactly a high-class establishment. As long as no one's getting murdered it's all fair game, and even the murder might be occasionally justifiable if enough coin is present. Suffice to say, even if they're seen, they're not likely to be scolded.

And hell, maybe Mercury even likes people to see. He likes to show off.

Her single word draws out a laugh, muffled against the skin of her throat, before he murmurs a reply. ]

You what? Speak up. My ears aren't as good as yours.

[ One of his hands slips behind her, cupping her ass in a rough squeeze. ]

[ The teeth against her neck all but do her in. It's always been a sensitive area for her, the heat of his breath sending tingles down her spine, heat stretching out to her limbs. The rough touches are a bit foreign, but something in them is enticing, and though she was already well past the point of wanting, it's begun to spill into need.

And need does some curious things. It's no longer a matter of preserving dignity--she genuinely finds forming sentences difficult, at the moment, even for as talkative as she can be at times. She's laughed and had conversations in bed before, but this is different. This, she can barely think clearly. ]

I want... more.

[ She hopes that's enough, but her pride has vanished. She'll say more if need be. She finally manages to get her hands around to his front, fumbling with his zipper, easing his pants down only enough to free his cock. She stares up at him in a desperate plea as she wraps her fingers around it. ]

[ Her words might not have been enough if they hadn't been accompanied by action, but her fingers speak well enough for her. She'll find him hardening in her grip, thick and eager, an eagerness that can be found in the heat of his gaze when she looks up. ]

Good.

[ His hands follow her lead to find the waistband of her shorts, which are annoyingly in the way. They could change positions, make it work, but... instead he unfastens them to tug them down right then and there, along with whatever undergarment may have been in waiting underneath. He only gets them down to just above her knees - she'll have to kick them off the rest of the way herself - but it's enough that he can roll his hips forward to press the head of his cock against her folds, gliding his length against her. ]

Get those off, and you'll have it.

[ She nods, swallowing thickly instead of replaying with words, still in a bit of a daze. As it turns out, the little shorts are her underthings, so she simply slides them down the rest of the way, pulling a boot through. They're left dangling from her other ankle instead of fully removed; she can't be bothered. She's too eager to feel that length against her again, trying to press her hips in to rub herself along it. The sensation of skin is so much better without layers of cloth in the way, and makes it exceedingly obvious how wet for him she already is. ]

I want you. Please.

[ It was not her intent to beg; it simply slips out. She looks up at him again, wanting to watch his face as the moment unfolds. ]

an ill-advised venture (for sarcaskick)

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