hallelujahpilot | Halloween

Halloween

In the end, she'd won their race. It wasn't exactly a race, except in the sense that both her and Carl are/were career military, and thus competitive as hell. Trudy is younger, fitter, used to going for her runs in an environment harder than Earth and, yes, she did whoop with triumph.

Which lead to, among other things, the fact that tonight it's up to Carl to bring the candy while Trudy makes the sheet-fort.

She's a glorified engineer, she can make a sheet balance over some chairs so it won't fall down on the candles.

After all, what is a tent without candles?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Details, indeed.

Carl considers that, and digs into the bucket for another piece -- this time, a KitKat bar.

"Do you get most of your meat from the local species or is it all MRE style?"

"Both. We try not to rely on hunting so we don't fuck up the eco-system, but not gonna turn it down, either."

Beat.

"Can I have half?"

Shared food is better. Stolen food is best, but she's not sure how to steal from his hands without him dodging.

He snaps the bar into two pieces, but he doesn't lean forward to offer it to her.

In fact, he leans back a little.

"You're gonna have t'come get it."

"Oh, am I?" She shifts; a hand on the ground, swinging her weight forward on her knees as she moves forward. This brings her very close, but she just meets his gaze, raises her eyebrow, holds out her hand.

"Close enough?"

Carl hands over the piece of chocolate, in exchange for wrapping his arm around her waist and tugging her closer -- she ends up half-sprawled across his torso, but he doesn't mind.

"Y'might as well get comfortable, Marine."

She can totally work with this! She settles onto his lap, curling her legs around him, and putting a hand on his shoulder for balance.

"Wow, Benton, you make it sound like such a duty."

"S'just cause I love you so damn much," he comments.

Grinning, of course.

"You get to pick the next piece."

"Mm, you'd better."

She'd kiss him (maybe with a bit of a nip), but there is kitkat! Nom, nom, nom.

"Oh. Am I that privileged?" She tucks a smirk away, leans over to reach into the bucket (which involves pressing up against him more, yes), and pulls out a sugar-skull.

"Which half do you want?"

"I'd say whichever half you don't, but then I know I wouldn't get any at all."

The hand that was resting against her side shifts to allow his fingers to graze over her spine at the small of her back. (If she wants to play dirty, he can do that.)

"So you take the eyes."

"I'm shocked and appalled that you don't think I can share," she informs him. "Shocked."

And yet, she lifts her hand from his shoulder to snap the skull in half, passing over the jaw.

"I only comment on what I've learned from being with you as long as I have so far," he says, innocently.

Sugar is about the only thing that will melt on that lying tongue right now, which it does once he pops the piece of skull candy into his mouth.

"Mm, right. And what about you, Captain 'Let Me Lure You Closer With Chocolate?"

"I figured it was classier than just grunting and pulling you onto my lap like a neanderthal," Carl retorts.

"I don't mind being pulled. Sometimes."

"Oh?"

His fingers still against her back, but he presses them a little harder against her t-shirt (still a light touch, but she'll notice the increase because she's observant like that) to test the waters, so to speak.

"So what if I wanted t'pull you closer and kiss the hell out of you, just so I could find out what you taste like after havin' chocolate?"

"Guess you'll have to be brave and find out."

She's not being coy, she's merely daring him. There is a difference.

When it comes to accepting the dare of a Marine, one has to think long and hard about the consequences, should you lose. Carl is willing to take the risk, in this case.

(Anything she did to him, he'd probably enjoy.)

So with one hand against her back, he brings the other up to the back of her neck, and he pulls her closer for a kiss. If she lets him, she'll be rewarded -- apparently sugar intake makes him feisty -- without delay.

'Let' is a pale word to describe the enthusiasm with which she kisses him back.

Sugar, chocolate, and he's wearing that stupidly distracting kilt.

Her pants are equally as distracting -- c'mon, leather, really what did she expect -- and the added bonus of the glint the candlelight puts into her eyes when she looks at him doesn't hurt either.

"Knew there was a reason...I like Halloween," he mutters, lips brushing her jaw once they break the kiss.

"No fishnets this year," she murmurs back, angling her head a little to give him better access.

He lightly threads his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck, keeping her head tilted back to expose her throat.

(It would take no more than two seconds for him to grab her skull and snap her neck, but he's not thinking about that. Not right now. Not with her.)

"I guess that means I'm in charge this year."

He's not guessing anything, given the tone of his voice.

"Sure," she says, by which she means, yes, and oh, yes, please, closing her eyes as his fingers tighten in her hair. It's not violent, no, and she's not thinking of it, but there is still that thread of it running underneath the gesture that makes her breath come steady, steady, steady so it doesn't hitch with the sudden flare of desire.

"Glad that's settled."

He nips at her throat, and then at the curve of her neck and shoulder where the collar of her shirt has shifted and left skin exposed -- happy accident, that -- before returning his focus to her mouth with another kiss.

It's rougher than the first, but still not violent.

The feel of his teeth lightly on her skin does make her breath hitch now, leaving her already a little breathless when he kisses her again.

She doesn't mind, and digs her fingers into his shoulder, pulling him closer.

He grunts appreciatively when she pulls his body closer to her own, and he doesn't mind her fingers dug into his shoulder either for that matter.

With one hand still tangled in her hair, the other slides between them and beneath the hem of her t-shirt, skating over the muscles of her abdomen to let his fingertips dance over her lowest ribs.

Her skin tingles as his fingers slide over it, leaving a wake of nerves that almost feel like they are glowing. His grip in her hair isn't so tight that she can't move her head, and so she drops her head a bit, breaking the kiss to move her mouth to his jaw, his neck.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Halloween

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

no subject