[ and then, as clarification, and with a slight sheepishness, caroline adds on. ]
Not... right now, or anything. Just, eventually. Someday. [ she's not a complete crazy person. ] I mean, I started planning my dream wedding when I was eight in a scrapbook my grandma got me. It's gotta happen someday.
[ it's not an answer that he expects but, after he gets over his momentary surprises, he quietly laughs and brushes the back of his fingers against her cheek.
it wasn't what he expected but it's a completely valid answer. ]
That's the most wholesome answer. [ there's no judgment in his tone. fondness, though, is very definitely there. ] It'll happen.
[ lots of people will be stupid enough not to love her, and one person will even be reckless enough to marry her and then die. but she doesn't know that yet. all she knows is the exquisite ache of wanting desperately to be somebody's, anybody's, first choice. ]
If you could go back and turn off your powers, would you?
No, I don't think so. It led to some not so good things but it also...
[ he pauses, falling into an abrupt silence. if he hadn't had his powers, he would have been able to stay with his parents, have a decent childhood, know his parents love, not suffer for years on the street.
but he wouldn't have met john. he wouldn't have met lorna and he wouldn't have a daughter. he wouldn't have a purpose. ]
But, it led me to things that I think I was born to do and they let me help people that couldn't help themselves. No, I wouldn't turn them off.
[ she used to think that being a vampire meant a life of suffering, a life of loss and pain and self-loathing. but she's slowly starting to learn that she can still be herself — she can still be loved and love in return — even with the fangs that linger under the surface. it's not black and white. it doesn't have to be. ]
You can dare me. [ to lighten the mood, maybe. ] If you want to.
[ oh ho ho! a clever dare, and one that makes her think for a moment. she's kissed him a lot of places — and not kissed him in some very obvious ones that she doesn't particularly want to cross right now — so she has to actually consider how she wants to meet this bet. ]
That is a good one.
[ even though she doesn't particularly want to pull away from his hands playing so soft against her hair, the dare does require it. it also requires sliding off of the bed to kneel against the side of it, tugging on his legs and ankles until his legs are dangling off the side as well.
it only takes a moment of familiar work for slim fingers to undo the button and zipper of his pants, tugging them and the soft cotton underneath down until the waistbands are tucked under his knees.
it might look like she's about to imitate monica lewinsky in the oval office, and the wink she gives him as she peers back up might even second that notion... but she's a tease, and this is a game, so her mouth instead skims to his inner thigh, nipping a bit at the sensitive skin there before she leaves a soft, gentle kiss along the red mark left behind.
and then, like nothing happened at all, caroline sits back onto her heels, smug as the cheshire cat. ]
[ honestly, he'd been expecting her to kiss the tip of his thumb or maybe the side of his nose. he'd been expecting her to do something ridiculous but when she started to pull at his legs and then tug his pants down, he starts to tell her he hadn't meant this, that she didn't have to do this sort of kiss.
but, something stops him. maybe it's the sudden pounding of his heart or the sweat that dots his brow or how his breathing suddenly increases. he holds his breath and then...she kisses his thigh and he knows that he's been played.
she's kneeling on the floor in front of him, his pants are around his knees and he can't do anything but stare and then laugh breathlessly. ]
Dare.
[ his voice is husky, tinged with aborted arousal and that's all her fault. ]
[ she's not laughing, but there's a brightness in her eyes that betrays how much she wants to. she played him, and he knows it; she knows, too, that she's going to get it back from him just as good as she gave. and she wants to. that's the whole point of this game. ]
I dare you... hm. Can you survive me sitting in your lap for a minute without touching back?
[ is this how she kills him? by sexual frustration? ]
[ before that last little trick, he would have said yes, no problem. but now? well, he's not really sure. he buys himself some time by standing up so he can hitch his shorts and pants back up, zipping and buckling himself back into his jeans before sitting down. ]
I think I can.
[ while he waits for her to stand up and sit on his lap, his mind turns over the possibilities of just how he could get her back for just how well she'd worked him over by barely touching him. ]
[ the plan of attack is simple: she straddles his lap, because it's the easiest way to ensure that as much of her body as possible presses against him, and her fingertips slide into his hair, because that's the easiest way to coax soft shivers from him before her mouth even gets involved.
which, for the record, it will. just because he can't touch doesn't mean she won't. her mouth has plenty to do, peppering soft-as-air kisses all over: the line of his jaw, the arc of his cheekbones, the column of his throat, the shell of his ear. her teeth drag too, just enough that he can feel the ghost of her breath afterwards, over all those spots.
a minute isn't too long, but sixty seconds do carry on quite a while when weight is heavy in his lap, and she's counting on him starting to squirm and groan long before the minute is up. ]
[ god, he's really glad he did decide to pull his pants back up before he'd said she could sit on his lap without touching. and, at first, he manages. it's tempting to grab her hips and pull her down against him but he grabs fistfuls of sheet to stop himself.
but then her hands end up in his hair and her mouth ends up on his face and he makes a sound that's halfway between a moan and a curse. he grabs at more and more of the sheets, curling them tightly in between his fingers to stop himself from touching.
but, god he wants to touch and he can't stop himself from shifting a bit. it's not touching because they were already touching there so he hasn't failed. ]
[ she should have asked him "do you want to keep playing". that would have been the smart move, because if she knew him at all, marcos would absolutely opt to skip the game in favor of swapping his handgrip from the sheets to the smooth skin over her hips. if they stopped playing, she could kiss him the way she wants to, and let him touch her the way he wants to.
but no, she hadn't said that, so now she's given the torturous choice of inviting payback or bowing out. but caroline's not a quitter... so there's really only one choice. ]
[ if she'd asked him that question, he would have been the one to quit, to say mercy, to call uncle and give up and get his pants back off, take her shirt back off and roll around on his bed, even if he knows she would have held the victory over his head, it would have been worth it.
but no, she wants to keep playing so he leans back on one hand, thoughtful. he has to think to something good, something that would make her lose her mind just as she's made him lose his mind. ]
I'm going to go jump in the shower. [ it's dirty, it's low, and it's perfect. ] I dare you not to join me.
[ that, unfortunately, means he has to nudge her off his lap but he's careful about it before getting to his feet and stripping off his shirt. he grabs a towel on the way out the door and then disappears down the hallway to turn the water on.
it doesn't take long for the water to get warm (thanks great water pressure) and then he steps in and waits to see what she'll do. ]
[ she wants to. god, does she want to. the combination of hot water over her skin and his naked body so close to her own is an incredibly tempting combination, but she won't. she can't, because he's dared her not to.
so instead, as soon as the door to his room closes again and the sound of the water splashing against tile begins to echo, caroline tugs off what little clothing she has left and tucks it into the top drawer of his dresser. from within, she pulls out the softest shirt she can find — a soft heather gray usually topped with flannel or a jacket, one that skims down to the tops of her thighs — and splays out on his bed, blanket draped just enough to cover her shoulders (and the change of clothing she's adopted).
when he comes back, well, he'll just have to see the situation he's invited. because he didn't give her any restrictions on what else she couldn't do. ]
[ is he disappointed he didn't see her for his shower? of course. is he surprised? not really. she's competitive and she'd want to win so he chuckles when he steps out of the shower and wraps a towel around his hips.
he doesn't bother to put anything else on, slipping down the hall and into the room, still speckled with water, hair wet and askew and drops trailing down from his shoulders to his chest and then further down to disappear in the towel.
when he steps inside and closes the door, he finally glimpses her and his eyebrows go up. ]
[ which is true, the temperature is rather chilly when there's no warm body to curl up against (and marcos is almost always the warmer of the two). but there had been a better reason to crawl under the covers, and that had been the simple element of surprise. to keep it, she'll have to keep the covers up, and hope that he's the one to tug them down so he can see just what's underneath. ]
[ he probably should be, by now. caroline doesn't bother to hide the grin that brightens her face at the sight of his de-toweled body. even with boxers, it's still a good look. (honestly, he's just a hot man, and she's a shallow girl.) ]
Why don't you come to bed, and I'll think up a question while you keep me from freezing.
[ really, she's just wasting time. she wants his reaction. ]
[ he laughs out the word, reaching for the corner of the blanket and tugging it down so he can slip in beside her. except he stops in his tracks when he realizes what he's done.
he knows that shirt. she probably knows that shirt. he's worn it enough around her and now it's draped on her body, flattering and comfortable and soft and marcos swallows, mouth suddenly dry. ]
Are you wearing my shirt?
[ just...checking. the game is already over. he knows what he's going to do next but he's just gonna ask that first. ]
[ the grin she's sporting melts into something nearly wicked. of course it's his shirt. what's more, it's only his shirt, and if she were to lift her hips or move just so, said shirt might hike up on her hips just enough to prove it. ]
What's it look like?
[ and what's he going to do about it if it is: the question that she doesn't need to ask, lingering in the laughter begging to be spilled out from behind her grinning mouth. ]
[ it's over, she wins, he loses, he doesn't care. he crawls into bed with a purpose now, not stopping until he's laying on top of her, feeling the fabric of his shirt against his body.
what a heady sensation, one that pulls a shiver from him. god. she's so — he doesn't even know what to say there. she's important and he wants her here and he wants here there and he just wants her. ]
You win. [ and her prize is his mouth descending down to hers, fitting against hers easily. ]
[ damn fucking right she wins. she gets him into bed, she gets to feel his body react to hers, she gets to see the way his eyes roll into the back of his head at the sight of her in his shirt — and, perhaps most satisfying, she gets the eager, desperate touch he's held off so far tonight, his mouth crashing against hers as his hands clutch at skin and shirt and everything between.
between kisses, between gasps of breath, between legs slotting against each other, caroline doesn't resist the moan that slips from her lips. she can't, and she doesn't want to. she wants him to know just how much she wanted him to find her, how much she wanted him to react, how much she wants him just like this.
she could tell him, she knows. she could confess all the thoughts that flit through her head, the way her stomach twists, the way her heart seems to seize in her chest when he smiles at her — but it's not the right time. never seems to be. so she'll hold it until it is, and take this in the meantime. if she can't have all of him (if she can't have the parts she doesn't dare to ask for yet), she can have this a hundred times over. ]
[ for a second, all he can do is kiss her, so overwhelmed with want and desire and out of his mind with it knowing she was in his bed, in his shirt and she'd done that just to try and get a rise out of him.
she'd succeeded. he deepens their kiss, trying to say thank you or show his appreciation or he doesn't even know. he just likes kissing her, he likes being close to her, he likes her. it's that simple.
when one of her hands skims over his shoulder, he reaches back for it, lacing his fingers with hers and pressing it down onto the bed. when he pulls back to take a breath, he keeps kissing her, lips finding her cheek and the line of her jaw, her temple, her ear, until he breathes out and blinks down at her. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ maybe later, he'll put his mouth on her when they're settling down for the night. ]
You have something you want to do with a partner that you haven't done before?
no subject
[ and then, as clarification, and with a slight sheepishness, caroline adds on. ]
Not... right now, or anything. Just, eventually. Someday. [ she's not a complete crazy person. ] I mean, I started planning my dream wedding when I was eight in a scrapbook my grandma got me. It's gotta happen someday.
no subject
it wasn't what he expected but it's a completely valid answer. ]
That's the most wholesome answer. [ there's no judgment in his tone. fondness, though, is very definitely there. ] It'll happen.
[ someone would be stupid not to marry her. ]
Truth for me.
no subject
If you could go back and turn off your powers, would you?
[ not the blue light special. ]
no subject
[ he pauses, falling into an abrupt silence. if he hadn't had his powers, he would have been able to stay with his parents, have a decent childhood, know his parents love, not suffer for years on the street.
but he wouldn't have met john. he wouldn't have met lorna and he wouldn't have a daughter. he wouldn't have a purpose. ]
But, it led me to things that I think I was born to do and they let me help people that couldn't help themselves. No, I wouldn't turn them off.
no subject
[ she used to think that being a vampire meant a life of suffering, a life of loss and pain and self-loathing. but she's slowly starting to learn that she can still be herself — she can still be loved and love in return — even with the fangs that linger under the surface. it's not black and white. it doesn't have to be. ]
You can dare me. [ to lighten the mood, maybe. ] If you want to.
no subject
[ he lets his finger play at her hairline, sliding through her hair and then tracing down to the shell of her ear. ]
I dare you to kiss me in a spot you haven't kissed me before.
[ get to it, caroline. ]
no subject
That is a good one.
[ even though she doesn't particularly want to pull away from his hands playing so soft against her hair, the dare does require it. it also requires sliding off of the bed to kneel against the side of it, tugging on his legs and ankles until his legs are dangling off the side as well.
it only takes a moment of familiar work for slim fingers to undo the button and zipper of his pants, tugging them and the soft cotton underneath down until the waistbands are tucked under his knees.
it might look like she's about to imitate monica lewinsky in the oval office, and the wink she gives him as she peers back up might even second that notion... but she's a tease, and this is a game, so her mouth instead skims to his inner thigh, nipping a bit at the sensitive skin there before she leaves a soft, gentle kiss along the red mark left behind.
and then, like nothing happened at all, caroline sits back onto her heels, smug as the cheshire cat. ]
So, will it be truth or dare, Marcos?
no subject
but, something stops him. maybe it's the sudden pounding of his heart or the sweat that dots his brow or how his breathing suddenly increases. he holds his breath and then...she kisses his thigh and he knows that he's been played.
she's kneeling on the floor in front of him, his pants are around his knees and he can't do anything but stare and then laugh breathlessly. ]
Dare.
[ his voice is husky, tinged with aborted arousal and that's all her fault. ]
Do I get to pull my pants back up?
no subject
[ she's not laughing, but there's a brightness in her eyes that betrays how much she wants to. she played him, and he knows it; she knows, too, that she's going to get it back from him just as good as she gave. and she wants to. that's the whole point of this game. ]
I dare you... hm. Can you survive me sitting in your lap for a minute without touching back?
[ is this how she kills him? by sexual frustration? ]
no subject
[ before that last little trick, he would have said yes, no problem. but now? well, he's not really sure. he buys himself some time by standing up so he can hitch his shorts and pants back up, zipping and buckling himself back into his jeans before sitting down. ]
I think I can.
[ while he waits for her to stand up and sit on his lap, his mind turns over the possibilities of just how he could get her back for just how well she'd worked him over by barely touching him. ]
no subject
which, for the record, it will. just because he can't touch doesn't mean she won't. her mouth has plenty to do, peppering soft-as-air kisses all over: the line of his jaw, the arc of his cheekbones, the column of his throat, the shell of his ear. her teeth drag too, just enough that he can feel the ghost of her breath afterwards, over all those spots.
a minute isn't too long, but sixty seconds do carry on quite a while when weight is heavy in his lap, and she's counting on him starting to squirm and groan long before the minute is up. ]
Your turn.
no subject
but then her hands end up in his hair and her mouth ends up on his face and he makes a sound that's halfway between a moan and a curse. he grabs at more and more of the sheets, curling them tightly in between his fingers to stop himself from touching.
but, god he wants to touch and he can't stop himself from shifting a bit. it's not touching because they were already touching there so he hasn't failed. ]
Truth or dare?
[ will it be payback time or not? ]
no subject
but no, she hadn't said that, so now she's given the torturous choice of inviting payback or bowing out. but caroline's not a quitter... so there's really only one choice. ]
Dare me, sweetheart.
no subject
but no, she wants to keep playing so he leans back on one hand, thoughtful. he has to think to something good, something that would make her lose her mind just as she's made him lose his mind. ]
I'm going to go jump in the shower. [ it's dirty, it's low, and it's perfect. ] I dare you not to join me.
[ that, unfortunately, means he has to nudge her off his lap but he's careful about it before getting to his feet and stripping off his shirt. he grabs a towel on the way out the door and then disappears down the hallway to turn the water on.
it doesn't take long for the water to get warm (thanks great water pressure) and then he steps in and waits to see what she'll do. ]
no subject
so instead, as soon as the door to his room closes again and the sound of the water splashing against tile begins to echo, caroline tugs off what little clothing she has left and tucks it into the top drawer of his dresser. from within, she pulls out the softest shirt she can find — a soft heather gray usually topped with flannel or a jacket, one that skims down to the tops of her thighs — and splays out on his bed, blanket draped just enough to cover her shoulders (and the change of clothing she's adopted).
when he comes back, well, he'll just have to see the situation he's invited. because he didn't give her any restrictions on what else she couldn't do. ]
no subject
he doesn't bother to put anything else on, slipping down the hall and into the room, still speckled with water, hair wet and askew and drops trailing down from his shoulders to his chest and then further down to disappear in the towel.
when he steps inside and closes the door, he finally glimpses her and his eyebrows go up. ]
You going to sleep?
no subject
[ which is true, the temperature is rather chilly when there's no warm body to curl up against (and marcos is almost always the warmer of the two). but there had been a better reason to crawl under the covers, and that had been the simple element of surprise. to keep it, she'll have to keep the covers up, and hope that he's the one to tug them down so he can see just what's underneath. ]
Come keep me warm?
no subject
[ he's not shy about dropping the towel while he's standing there or moving to his dresser to grab a hair of dark boxers to slide on. ]
I choose truth.
[ it's his turn, after all, and he's going to choose that as he picks up the towel and puts a few things away before crossing to the bed. ]
no subject
[ he probably should be, by now. caroline doesn't bother to hide the grin that brightens her face at the sight of his de-toweled body. even with boxers, it's still a good look. (honestly, he's just a hot man, and she's a shallow girl.) ]
Why don't you come to bed, and I'll think up a question while you keep me from freezing.
[ really, she's just wasting time. she wants his reaction. ]
no subject
[ he laughs out the word, reaching for the corner of the blanket and tugging it down so he can slip in beside her. except he stops in his tracks when he realizes what he's done.
he knows that shirt. she probably knows that shirt. he's worn it enough around her and now it's draped on her body, flattering and comfortable and soft and marcos swallows, mouth suddenly dry. ]
Are you wearing my shirt?
[ just...checking. the game is already over. he knows what he's going to do next but he's just gonna ask that first. ]
no subject
What's it look like?
[ and what's he going to do about it if it is: the question that she doesn't need to ask, lingering in the laughter begging to be spilled out from behind her grinning mouth. ]
no subject
[ it's over, she wins, he loses, he doesn't care. he crawls into bed with a purpose now, not stopping until he's laying on top of her, feeling the fabric of his shirt against his body.
what a heady sensation, one that pulls a shiver from him. god. she's so — he doesn't even know what to say there. she's important and he wants her here and he wants here there and he just wants her. ]
You win. [ and her prize is his mouth descending down to hers, fitting against hers easily. ]
no subject
between kisses, between gasps of breath, between legs slotting against each other, caroline doesn't resist the moan that slips from her lips. she can't, and she doesn't want to. she wants him to know just how much she wanted him to find her, how much she wanted him to react, how much she wants him just like this.
she could tell him, she knows. she could confess all the thoughts that flit through her head, the way her stomach twists, the way her heart seems to seize in her chest when he smiles at her — but it's not the right time. never seems to be. so she'll hold it until it is, and take this in the meantime. if she can't have all of him (if she can't have the parts she doesn't dare to ask for yet), she can have this a hundred times over. ]
no subject
she'd succeeded. he deepens their kiss, trying to say thank you or show his appreciation or he doesn't even know. he just likes kissing her, he likes being close to her, he likes her. it's that simple.
when one of her hands skims over his shoulder, he reaches back for it, lacing his fingers with hers and pressing it down onto the bed. when he pulls back to take a breath, he keeps kissing her, lips finding her cheek and the line of her jaw, her temple, her ear, until he breathes out and blinks down at her. ]
I think you might have to keep this shirt.
(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)