[ He wasn't expecting it - the closeness making his pulse spike, his heart drumming a staccato beat on his rib cage.
The urge to kiss her came back, twice as strong, but he didn't. She'd already had a lot, in the last half hour. Last think she needed was him making things complicated again, far too fast.
He couldn't resist moving a hand to gently brush her hair back again, though.
He needed to say something, to cover for the fact that he was basically just trying not to kiss her, but nothing came. So he just fell quiet, and moved her hair, and let his knuckles graze her cheek again. ]
[It has been a lot, and there's a part of her that thinks maybe this is a bad plan when he's likely more than overwhelmed himself, but she hasn't been able to stop thinking about kissing him again for weeks. When he was in that fucking pod, it was worse—she felt like she'd wasted time, like she'd held off for reasons that might not even matter. Even if this doesn't work, he's her best friend. They'll figure it out.
She lets her nose bump against his, fingertips trailing along his jawline.]
[ He feels his heart nearly stop, and it's confusing as hell, to remember everything that happened here, and everything that happened at home. It's hard to put his feelings for her back into a neatly separated box. So he doesn't try.
Instead, he tries to just let himself go, though he doesn't kiss her. He wants to. He wants to so badly that it's making his eyes drift closed, and yet.
He brushed his nose against hers, his breath shallow against her lips, before he turned his head to press his lips against her fingertips. ]
[It's such a little thing, but it makes her heart stutter, and if there was any remaining doubt in her mind that her reactions before were just from heightened emotions, that shatters it. She smiles, tracing the edge of his lip with her thumb, her voice quiet.]
I'm sure.
[And then she turns his head gently, leaning forward to press her lips against his.]
His eyes close, his pulse fluttering with an uneven rythym as she kisses him more gently than he ever would have pegged her for, before.
It's strange, the way half of him is almost surprised by it - as if she was kissing him for the first time. As if he was still in a strange state of having vague feelings he couldn't - or wouldn't - voice. Of having only yesterday been pressing his hands against her abdomen, desperately trying to hold her blood in. Of her being his best friend in the whole world.
And then - overlaid and between and around - the feeling that this isn't the first kiss (because it wasn't, but he'd forgotten, somehow, like he'd forgotten Reverie and everything else ) and that it wouldn't be the last kiss (because he needed this, now, more than he could ever admit).
He let out a quiet, wordless sound against her lips as his parted, his hand rising to cup her cheek gently as he deepened the kiss. ]
[It takes kissing him like this, when there's no fear or anxiety or expectations, for her to really understand how much she wanted it. She knew on some level before, but not to this extent, not to degree where it felt like a relief. He's okay, and he's here with her again, and it feels so right that she's not sure how any other outcome than this would have been possible. Everything else seems to melt away, and for the moment, all that matters is his lips against hers and that little sound that sets her heart racing. Bobbie practically melts against him, her free hand going to his shoulder as she tries to steady herself and only really succeeds in pulling him closer.]
[ It's all too easy to lose himself in it, to brace himself to take her weight, sliding his free hand around her waist and pulling her closer. It didn't even register that they were in the shared room, that someone could walk in on them at any moment. Even if the thought did occur to him, he wouldn't be able to bring himself to care.
He had to break the kiss for a few seconds, just to breathe, but he couldn't even pull fully away- his lips still touching hers as he drew in a shakey breath.
It took a lot in him, not to blurt out something about how he felt. Half because those feelings were so tangled and half because they were too soon. Too much. So he swallowed those words and fought to find others, while he stroked her cheek, lingering on her lips. Finally, he murmured: ]
[She lets out a soft sound of complaint when he pulls away, but he doesn't go far. She realizes suddenly that it doesn't really matter, because she's certain she can kiss him whenever she wants now, so she just settles against him, content.]
All I've been doing is sweeping the station and camping out in the med bay.
[ Despite the fact that he'd literally had his jumpsuit pulled down to his waist about half an hour ago, and not thought anything of it, the fact that he would have to do it now upon being asked, and more importantly being asked by someone who'd just been kissing him, made him a little giddy. He managed not to flush, at least. ]
Yeah, one second.
[ He reluctantly peeled his arm from around her waist, then went to undo the zipper from his throat down the length of his chest, enough that he could pull his shoulder and arm out. He left the other one in, for now, as he twisted the arm so she could get a better look at it. It did indeed have a stab wound - surprisingly deep, to the end of the forks so that it looks like there were four holes and then bridged across them with a scar. The whole thing was healed over, but the skin was still pink and raw and fresh. ]
[ It was impossible to stop the flush, that time, the warmth spreading under his skin from his collar right up to his cheeks - but he just smiled, far too pleased.
Later, he would look back on it and think that he was being selfish. But in the moment, he actually felt happy. Which wasn't a word he'd be able to use to describe himself either back home or here on Reverie in a long time. ]
Do I need to dial it back? [ He asked, his voice teasing. ]
[Bobbie kisses him back, just as slow and languid, reveling in the fact that it's expected now. Her hand smoothes over his bare shoulder, stealing a bit of contact before he pulls the sleeve up again.]
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A hell of a lot more.
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The urge to kiss her came back, twice as strong, but he didn't. She'd already had a lot, in the last half hour. Last think she needed was him making things complicated again, far too fast.
He couldn't resist moving a hand to gently brush her hair back again, though.
He needed to say something, to cover for the fact that he was basically just trying not to kiss her, but nothing came. So he just fell quiet, and moved her hair, and let his knuckles graze her cheek again. ]
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She lets her nose bump against his, fingertips trailing along his jawline.]
I don't think I need any more time.
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Instead, he tries to just let himself go, though he doesn't kiss her. He wants to. He wants to so badly that it's making his eyes drift closed, and yet.
He brushed his nose against hers, his breath shallow against her lips, before he turned his head to press his lips against her fingertips. ]
... No? You sure?
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I'm sure.
[And then she turns his head gently, leaning forward to press her lips against his.]
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His eyes close, his pulse fluttering with an uneven rythym as she kisses him more gently than he ever would have pegged her for, before.
It's strange, the way half of him is almost surprised by it - as if she was kissing him for the first time. As if he was still in a strange state of having vague feelings he couldn't - or wouldn't - voice. Of having only yesterday been pressing his hands against her abdomen, desperately trying to hold her blood in. Of her being his best friend in the whole world.
And then - overlaid and between and around - the feeling that this isn't the first kiss (because it wasn't, but he'd forgotten, somehow, like he'd forgotten Reverie and everything else ) and that it wouldn't be the last kiss (because he needed this, now, more than he could ever admit).
He let out a quiet, wordless sound against her lips as his parted, his hand rising to cup her cheek gently as he deepened the kiss. ]
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He had to break the kiss for a few seconds, just to breathe, but he couldn't even pull fully away- his lips still touching hers as he drew in a shakey breath.
It took a lot in him, not to blurt out something about how he felt. Half because those feelings were so tangled and half because they were too soon. Too much. So he swallowed those words and fought to find others, while he stroked her cheek, lingering on her lips. Finally, he murmured: ]
... I'm glad you're okay, Gunny...
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All I've been doing is sweeping the station and camping out in the med bay.
[Nothing at all dangerous.]
I should be saying that to you.
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Yeah, sorry about that. Don't know what the hell got into me. But I'm alright. I ain't hurt.
Much, anyway.
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What still hurts?
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Just the arm. I'll be alrigh', long as nothin' else tries to put a fork in me.
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[She gives the collar of his jumpsuit a little tug.]
Let me see.
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Yeah, one second.
[ He reluctantly peeled his arm from around her waist, then went to undo the zipper from his throat down the length of his chest, enough that he could pull his shoulder and arm out. He left the other one in, for now, as he twisted the arm so she could get a better look at it. It did indeed have a stab wound - surprisingly deep, to the end of the forks so that it looks like there were four holes and then bridged across them with a scar. The whole thing was healed over, but the skin was still pink and raw and fresh. ]
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Looks like it's healing up okay. Should we raid the med bay and try to find some painkillers?
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[ A small, soft smile pulled at his lips as he watched her. ]
... I'll be honest, I'm just fine where I am, at the moment. I don't see the need to go anywhere in a hurry.
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Yeah? Why's that?
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An' there's no where else I'd rather be.
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Sometimes I forget how much of a hopeless romantic you are.
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Later, he would look back on it and think that he was being selfish. But in the moment, he actually felt happy. Which wasn't a word he'd be able to use to describe himself either back home or here on Reverie in a long time. ]
Do I need to dial it back? [ He asked, his voice teasing. ]
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[She leans forward again, lips brushing against his for a second. She's just so glad he's okay that right now, nothing else really matters.]
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Less because he needs it to be either of those things, and more that it's hard to kiss her and keep smiling like that, at the same time.
He remembers, belatedly, that his jumpsuit is half way down on one side, and moves to thread his arm back into the sleeve. ]
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When he breaks the kiss, he leans his forehead against hers, still smiling. ]
... Think that's gonna take me a bit to get used to.
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What? Kissing me?
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