In the Kitchen: Ram/Java
By the time that breakfast was said and done, with the dishes cleaned and placed back in the cupboard, Java's happiness over what had happened the night before was slowly giving way to reservations. Setting the dish towel on the counter, she slipped around behind her husband as they stood in the kitchen, wrapping her arms around his waist and
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He was getting so much more comfortable with touching her, she noticed, her gaze returning to the hands that enveloped her own, and that somehow made it harder both to be angry about the request and to disregard his standard speech of affection and show of protectiveness. Java had long since become as hardened to Ram's words of love as she was to his promises; she wasn't fool enough to believe the same lines he'd thrown at her sisters, the same promises with which he'd brainwashed an army. The world would never bow at Java's feet; she knew that, just as she knew that she never had been and never would be the world to Ram or anyone else, and, for all of his talk, Java knew that Ram would still leave her in a heartbeat if the mood struck him. All the same, she couldn't help but believe him a little when his hands were so warm against her skin, when his smile was so wicked, when he was still disheveled from the night he'd spent with her, even if he was still trying to pull things over on her. Charmer... She thought for a moment of the week in the closet, and of the things she had thought about Ram while Line was working on her, and her smile quivered a little.
She was terrified to go back into the market, of course, especially when she thought of that week; she knew all too well what happened to dictators' wives when they wandered too far from their shelters. But they really did need food, and, as she had been fool enough to hand her T-gun over to Mega, Java needed another weapon; she'd be damned if she'd simply let herself and Lord Ram sit in their apartment like fish in a barrel. It was only a matter of time before others discovered where they were, she knew, especially if things did not go as planned with Mega, and Java intended to be ready. It was possible that Ram didn't love her, that she was still just a pawn with a few new perks, but he was still all she had, and she would still protect him with her life.
"You should go get your shower," Java purred, slipping her hands out of his and bringing the right up to the side of her husband's face as the left lingered against his forearm. Her fingertips trailed down his hairline to his ear, brushing his messy hair gently back from his face, and she gave him a teasing smile. "I'd hate to have anyone find out Lord Ram spent a whole morning shirtless..."
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As he listened to Java, he observed her inner struggle. From her initial
rejection of the task as too difficult, to her acceptance, and then a promise to do her best, it was very clear to him and left him feeling very pleased. His look softened and he gave her a crooked smile. "That's my Javie, now," he said, lifting her chin with his crooked index finger, then puckering his lips out a little, "You're a very resourceful person, if anyone can find it you can. Just mind that those minging virts," he hissed the word, "don't give you something that will make us sick."
There it was again, his fear of germs. Would it always be just below the
surface, or was a little of it in this current world normal? How much worry was too much? The thought distressed him for a moment, then he let it go. There were just too many other things to worry about.
Suddenly Java's last comment made him feel very bare standing there in just a pair of boxers. It was still very new to him to feel such caresses, but very enticing. Ram let his eyes travel down from Java's full lips, to her smooth, creamy, caramel colored throat, to the hint of cleavage showing at the top of her black robe. His hand slipped from her chin to back of her neck to pull her close, as his eyes moved back up to gaze into hers.
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Her hand trailed down to the side of his neck, and Java instinctively wondered, for perhaps the twentieth time in as many hours, what chance she would stand against him were he to attack her. No one could touch Ram in Reality Space, of course, but she had always taken particular pleasure in knowing that, no matter what power her husband might possess there, she was still his protector in the real world. And, no matter how he might delight in condescending to her, Java had always known that, if it came down to it, he was helpless in his own body; she could have easily ripped his throat out should it have been necessary. But now, as her fingertips slipped down the muscles of his neck, down the smoothness of his throat, to the lean muscles of his chest, Java realized that she was no longer so confident with him. If Ram's combat training in Reality Space had had the same real-world benefits as hers... She had never thought of her husband as a warrior, never thought of him as a worthy opponent physically, but now, with him gripping her by the scruff of the neck, his scent heady and primal, she suddenly saw him in a whole new light...
Java took a voluntary step toward him, her index finger making a slow, idle circle on his chest, and looked up at her husband with eyes both provocative and vaguely challenging. "Your shower," she reminded him, as her other hand moved from forearm to waist, "Lord Ram."
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"Yes, of course Java," he responded to her reminder of a shower, "I do need a shower, and so do you." With that he scooped her up into his arms and started for the shower. "You could scrub my back," he added with a devilish little smile.
He'd never picked someone up in reality before, it really made him feel strong. It also suddenly made Java seem much smaller, and lighter, than he had ever thought of her. The change in perspective was phenomenal. It was like holding a hand grenade; tiny little package, but capable of quite a lot of damage. Ram's eyes traveled over Java as if he were examining a novelty, a look of slight puzzlement on his face.
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"I could scrub a lot more than that," Java mused, one brow arching suggestively as Ram carried her down the hallway. Her fingers slipped into his hair, raking it back from his forehead, as her gaze slipped meaningfully downward. "I'll make sure you're," and her eyes darted back to his, sparkling wickedly, "thoroughly clean..." She was a little concerned about what a joint shower might mean for her braids, but the idea of watching the water bead on his skin was too enticing-- and if there was anything left of the hygienically obsessive man Java had married, she couldn't wait to see his reaction to a woman covered in bubbles.
Java leaned down in his arms, twisting slightly to open the doorknob, and let her lover carry her in and set her down. The tiles were pleasantly cold on the bottoms of her feet, and, with the warmth of Ram's body removed from her, Java was surprised to find that she was actually almost chilly. She bent over slightly, her back subtly arched, and turned on the tub's faucet, letting it get good and warm. She admired the running water for a handful of seconds, a slight rush of pride filling her at the evidence of her husband's genius, and then untied her robe. With an inviting glance over her shoulder at her husband, Java let the silk fall to the floor, and, fully nude, stepped into the shower.
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