When he kisses you he isn't doing anything else. You're his whole universe....
Twirling happily - but carefully - about, delighted with the weak sun filtering through the skylight in the gorgeous library in the attic of Percy's new home, Regan reached out to run a fingertip along one sleek wooden shelf, her face bright and open. "It's beautiful, Percy. The best room in the house, though the rest is lovely as well."
She was glad to see him, regardless of setting, but the chance to see the home he'd chosen, now that Jack was around full-time, was especially pleasing. It felt cozy, like somewhere the darling ginger lad ought to grow up, and Regan was grateful to see Percy at ease in his space for the first time in a while. His flat had been no place for himself, Jack, and the woman who seemed to stay there as often as not.
Turning to face her host properly, she smiled, refraining from reaching out for his hand as she might else have been wont to do. "You chose brilliantly, I should say... does Jack love it?"
Percy nodded, returning the smile he with which he was graced. "He does. We both do. I think we spend more time up here when we're home than elsewhere. It certainly has had the most of our attention. If he weren't at my mother's, he would proudly show you his section."
His eyes roamed the books he'd collected, ones he had brought from Bulgaria, and ones he'd acquired in the year he'd been back home. He had a weakness for books, and he was glad he had somewhere to put them.
He was glad that Regan seemed to like the space as well.
"It isn't anything too grand, but we do have some room for expansion."
"Just as well, as I believe he collects as avidly as you do, and I seem to have given him a new language to explore, and thus more written territory to conquer," Regan pointed out, just a tad sheepishly. The boy had taken to French like a fish to water, and was nearly through with her own sizable array of children's books, on loan for as long as it took him to devour them all.
"You seem content here," she ventured. "I'm glad to see it."
"I do like it here," Percy answered. "Not quite what I imagined for myself, but it is more than satisfactory." He pulled away from Regan, disappearing behind a row of shelving and pulling out a gaily wrapped parcel. Percy was surprised Regan had not noticed it sitting on the shelving in the musical section.
"For you, mademoiselle. Congratulations on finishing your studies," he said, presenting her the package with a flourish and bow.
Startled by the gift, Regan let him press the parcel into her grasp, despite her murmur of, "You ought not to have gone to the trouble... it isn't as though I accomplished any great feat, finishing by correspondence, a term late..." She was glad to be through with her schooling, though not particularly about the manner in which it had been completed.
It would be unfathomably rude to refuse his gift, and she was heartened by him having thought of it, however, and so she perched on the edge of the chaise to slide a fingertip beneath the fastening, opening the envelope of wrapping to slip a slim folio free. A soft gasp escaped her at the documents revealed therein; one a fairly rare reprint of one of her favorite duets, the other...
"Percy," she whispered, not quite daring to touch the delicate paper, her eyes darting up to his, "This... this is a first printing."
He rocked back on his heels, color high in his cheeks. "Yes, it is. Do you like it?" He had remembered how she had looked when she was in the Archives, and Percy had wanted to see that look again.
"Do I like...?" A tiny, hysteria-tinged giggle escaped, and Regan bit her lip. "This is three hundred years old, Percy. It's amazing. Where...? No, I don't want to know." She laid the folio aside, very gently, bounced to her feet, and flew at him in utter glee, then stopped short a pace away, remembering her promise.
Dropping her hands to her sides, she strove for calm, asking, "May I?"
He tried thinking of something witty to say in response, but nothing was quite coming to mind. The sheer pleasure in her eyes was thanks enough. He was still chuckling at her noise, the sound quite louder than any he imagined she was capable of making.
"You may, indeed," he finally answered, his arms released from their tensioned position behind his back.
Reaching up, Regan caught Percy's freckled face in her hands, stepping into the warm bubble of his space and drawing him down as she stretched up on her toes. She sealed her lips to his, sighing at the contact.
She'd missed this, even something so simple as a kiss, as being in his aura, and she fed lightly at his mouth, licking a hopeful request across the soft turn of his lower lip until he granted her a proper taste.
Percy pulled Regan to him, one hand going to her lower back, the other to support her head as he nipped on her lower lip. He missed contact, in this manner. He missed contact in this manner with Regan.
With a small noise of contentment, Regan twined her arms about Percy's shoulders, shivering agreeably at the tiny pain of his teeth. She grazed the blunt edges of her nails along the nape of his neck, just beneath the tight plait he wore, intensely aware of the strength of his arms steadying her against him.
He echoed the sound deep in his throat, arm coming under her knees to scoop her closer to him, not breaking the connection she had started. Moving backwards, Percy just missed the small table covered precariously in books. The back of his knees hit the chair, and he sat, pulling Regan down with him.
Gasping as she was abruptly settled astride Percy's lap, though by no means unhappy with the arrangement, Regan pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, then leaned back just enough to find his gaze with hers. Her fingers toyed with his plait, surreptitiously slipping the ribbon from its end, and she was drawn to his lips again, taking the bottom between her own teeth for a gentle tug.
He shivered when her fingers began playing with the long ends of his hair, slowly undoing the strands. His hand tugged on her hair, pulling her mouth from his and granting him access to the pale line of her neck. Percy breathed, deeply, running his nose down the shell of her ear before placing his lips on her neck, following the light tracery of veins to where neck met shoulder. She smelled like Regan, and he couldn't seem to stop himself.
"Oh," Regan breathed, the rest of her air coming in little pants as Percy brushed his lips over her skin. The bubble of liquid heat his kisses always gave her was twisting with this new touch, the licks of electric contact zipping straight through her and causing gooseflesh to ripple over her arms, up her neck to where he teased. She'd forgotten her quest to free his plait as soon as his hand had fisted in her curls, but her fingers remembered, and she combed the ginger tail over the back of her hand.
"Mmmm," he hummed, low, agreeing. Percy hadn't realized until the moment Regan's lips met his that he was touch starved. He pulled back enough to meet Regan's hazy gaze with his own.
"It seems the books make poor chaperones," he said, voice rough. "I can't seem to mind horribly."
"Nor I," Regan murmured, licking her kiss-swollen lips. Please don't push me away, again. She loosened the final loop of the braid that had taunted her for months, and sifted her fingertips slowly through that glorious length of hair, waiting.
His eyes fell shut, and he had to repress the moan wanting to leave his mouth. Her fingers were in his hair. Those lovely, nimble fingers were moving through his hair. The part of his brain that was usually hammering moralities and questions was shut off, silent.
"You have forever to not stop doing that."
Pleased beyond measure at this development, Regan smiled and let her nails scratch lightly over Percy's scalp, then carded his ginger mane out to its ends, repeating the pattern of motion in an easy, rhythmic cycle. "I believe I can manage that much," she said quietly, dusting a kiss across his lips before dipping hers to the line of his throat, nuzzling the strong column as her hands kept up their mesmer. She was abuzz, yet, and not keen on giving up this proximity in any hurry.
Her jumper was definitely in the way, Percy decided, when his hand kept meeting with bunched knitted fabric. Pulling Regan against him, he used the leverage to tug the material higher, so his fingers could brush against the warm skin of her lower back.
Regan gave a little squeak of surprise as Percy's hands were suddenly on her skin, her fingers curling in his hair for a beat as the delicious shock rippled through her. It felt wonderfully... dangerous, almost... for him to be touching her, and she didn't want him to stop. Shifting closer, she flicked her tongue in a meandering trail up his neck, her hands taking up their pattern again.
This, this he didn't want to hurry. Heat pinpointed where her skin hit his, her fingers threaded in his hair, and turned into warmth that burned through the rest of his body. Percy tugged on Regan's hair, pulling her lips back to his, teeth and tongue demanding her compliance.
Breath catching at the forceful handling, unexpected from Percy, who was usually so patient, but not unpleasant, Regan stilled in his grasp, letting him move her as he would. Her mind too distracted to keep order, her fingers were idle in their motions as she yielded to his kiss, a little sigh slipping past the nip of his teeth. She shivered, though she was too warm by half, her blood singing in a giddy rush.
His fingers counted the line of her spine from top to bottom. Percy tugged Regan closer, knees higher around his torso, before dipping her back, his arms the only thing supporting her. He swallowed her gasp of surprise, responding with a low growl of satisfaction, hoping that the grip of her fingers might leave behind reminders of their encounter.
Skin flushing a bright pink as Percy's fingers mapped her bare skin, gooseflesh following in the wake of his exploration, Regan lay restlessly in his embrace, one hand curled tightly about the back of his neck, the other dancing across his shoulder, seeking purchase, something. Her whole person was alert to his touch, all the places their bodies met and the delicious tease of his lips on hers, and it wasn't quite enough, somehow.
"Lovely," he murmured against her lips, hands tracing the slight curve of skin under her sweater, hands stopping when his thumbs met hip bone, tracing back and forth. A smile curved his lips as he felt goosebumps form along Regan's skin.
Percy's fingers were warm against her back, her sides, and the light stroking was just on the pleasant side of ticklish, making her arch and squirm, not entirely sure if she was trying to get closer or further away from the sensation. "Percy," she breathed plaintively, nails biting at the flesh of his shoulder, eyes fluttering open as his mouth left hers for a moment.
"Mmmmm, yes, dove?" he replied, meeting her gaze. His fingers had left her hips and were playing with the bit of sweater hem resting just above her leggings, hinting at alabaster skin.
The use of something other than her name was a tiny bit startling in itself, but far more was the semi-intent fidgeting with the bottom of her jumper, his hands only just brushing her stomach in narrow, unpredictable caresses. One small fraction of the already minimal active part of her mind was terrified by the idea of what Percy might want, but his having his hands on her was lovely, thus far, and she wasn't ready for that to stop.
"You can," she whispered, her fingertips kneading at the base of his neck as her eyes fell a trace shyly from his. A sharp bolt of anticipation sang up her spine at the permission, a shiver rippling out to the rest of her body.
He had needed to hear her permission, spoken, out loud. The soft words whispered down his skin, and he was hardly aware when he had wrapped Regan's legs behind him, and carried her to the chaise. He unwrapped her from around his person, and hovered over her on all fours, loose hair falling to curtain them from the room.
"I can this?" he asked, hand moving to push her jumper up, revealing inches of skin, stopping just short of her breasts, his mouth following slowly behind.
Eyes wide, her heart thundering, deafeningly loud in her own ears as Percy braced himself above her, Regan tried to remember to breathe. Her hands flitted uncertainly along his shoulders, body tensing slightly as he moved the fabric out of his way, exposing her skin to his eyes and the cooler air of the room.
His lips were on her, then, and a great many other things ceased to matter, at least loudly enough to be noticed, as a gasp rushed her air away, fingers twining in the bright cascade of his hair. "Yes," was formed as a slightly strangled moan, her grip tightening as his tongue flicked out to taste her.
Gods, that sound. It plucked at the strings of his self control. The thing keeping him moving slowly, pacing himself, as it was glaringly obvious that this was new to Regan; keeping him from ripping off the thin barrier of leggings and knickers, wrapping her legs around his waist, and making her make that noise again.
Percy watched the goosebumps raise along her skin as he nipped lightly just below her navel, soothing the bite with his tongue. He wanted to hear his name in that breathy moan.
Arching into the little shock of his teeth on her flesh, the contrast of the slick heat that followed, Regan lost a soft mew to sensation, writhing fitfully under Percy's mouth. Her whole skin tingled, alive and waiting for more touch, that craving for the press of him that she'd felt in the moment he lay above her.
Fingers questing, she sifted the fall of ginger hair, dipping her fingertips below the collar of his shirt and scraping gently back up the column of his neck.
There was fine tremble running down his back. He shook himself slightly before pressing his lips to Regan's navel before moving to her neck, nipping lightly just below her ear. She smelled slightly of roses, and rosin.
"You may take liberties to roam," he said against her neck.
Momentarily stunned by the switch in direction, Regan was still save for the shiver that Percy's nibble of her neck caused, her fingers swirling an idle pattern over his shoulders. Recovering enough to speak, she observed breathily, "It's not quite as challenging an enticement, I think, if I've been granted permission..."
Taking the opportunity nonetheless, she twined arms and legs about his limbs, tugging him to rest against her as her skin seemed to demand, requesting softly, "Lie with me," as she brushed her lips along his jaw.
His eyes widened, and he was prepared to protest, until the fog Regan had made of his thinking process cleared, and he realized her intent. He settled around her, pushing his hair to one side. Percy had the brief thought of pulling it back again, but Regan seemed to continue to want to play with his hair, and he was not going to encourage her to stop.
"As you wish," he replied.
"I wish," Regan confirmed, curling her fingers in his ginger mane and guiding his lips to hers once more.
{SUMMARY:Regan and Percy get a little closer.}
She was glad to see him, regardless of setting, but the chance to see the home he'd chosen, now that Jack was around full-time, was especially pleasing. It felt cozy, like somewhere the darling ginger lad ought to grow up, and Regan was grateful to see Percy at ease in his space for the first time in a while. His flat had been no place for himself, Jack, and the woman who seemed to stay there as often as not.
Turning to face her host properly, she smiled, refraining from reaching out for his hand as she might else have been wont to do. "You chose brilliantly, I should say... does Jack love it?"
Percy nodded, returning the smile he with which he was graced. "He does. We both do. I think we spend more time up here when we're home than elsewhere. It certainly has had the most of our attention. If he weren't at my mother's, he would proudly show you his section."
His eyes roamed the books he'd collected, ones he had brought from Bulgaria, and ones he'd acquired in the year he'd been back home. He had a weakness for books, and he was glad he had somewhere to put them.
He was glad that Regan seemed to like the space as well.
"It isn't anything too grand, but we do have some room for expansion."
"Just as well, as I believe he collects as avidly as you do, and I seem to have given him a new language to explore, and thus more written territory to conquer," Regan pointed out, just a tad sheepishly. The boy had taken to French like a fish to water, and was nearly through with her own sizable array of children's books, on loan for as long as it took him to devour them all.
"You seem content here," she ventured. "I'm glad to see it."
"I do like it here," Percy answered. "Not quite what I imagined for myself, but it is more than satisfactory." He pulled away from Regan, disappearing behind a row of shelving and pulling out a gaily wrapped parcel. Percy was surprised Regan had not noticed it sitting on the shelving in the musical section.
"For you, mademoiselle. Congratulations on finishing your studies," he said, presenting her the package with a flourish and bow.
Startled by the gift, Regan let him press the parcel into her grasp, despite her murmur of, "You ought not to have gone to the trouble... it isn't as though I accomplished any great feat, finishing by correspondence, a term late..." She was glad to be through with her schooling, though not particularly about the manner in which it had been completed.
It would be unfathomably rude to refuse his gift, and she was heartened by him having thought of it, however, and so she perched on the edge of the chaise to slide a fingertip beneath the fastening, opening the envelope of wrapping to slip a slim folio free. A soft gasp escaped her at the documents revealed therein; one a fairly rare reprint of one of her favorite duets, the other...
"Percy," she whispered, not quite daring to touch the delicate paper, her eyes darting up to his, "This... this is a first printing."
He rocked back on his heels, color high in his cheeks. "Yes, it is. Do you like it?" He had remembered how she had looked when she was in the Archives, and Percy had wanted to see that look again.
"Do I like...?" A tiny, hysteria-tinged giggle escaped, and Regan bit her lip. "This is three hundred years old, Percy. It's amazing. Where...? No, I don't want to know." She laid the folio aside, very gently, bounced to her feet, and flew at him in utter glee, then stopped short a pace away, remembering her promise.
Dropping her hands to her sides, she strove for calm, asking, "May I?"
He tried thinking of something witty to say in response, but nothing was quite coming to mind. The sheer pleasure in her eyes was thanks enough. He was still chuckling at her noise, the sound quite louder than any he imagined she was capable of making.
"You may, indeed," he finally answered, his arms released from their tensioned position behind his back.
Reaching up, Regan caught Percy's freckled face in her hands, stepping into the warm bubble of his space and drawing him down as she stretched up on her toes. She sealed her lips to his, sighing at the contact.
She'd missed this, even something so simple as a kiss, as being in his aura, and she fed lightly at his mouth, licking a hopeful request across the soft turn of his lower lip until he granted her a proper taste.
Percy pulled Regan to him, one hand going to her lower back, the other to support her head as he nipped on her lower lip. He missed contact, in this manner. He missed contact in this manner with Regan.
With a small noise of contentment, Regan twined her arms about Percy's shoulders, shivering agreeably at the tiny pain of his teeth. She grazed the blunt edges of her nails along the nape of his neck, just beneath the tight plait he wore, intensely aware of the strength of his arms steadying her against him.
He echoed the sound deep in his throat, arm coming under her knees to scoop her closer to him, not breaking the connection she had started. Moving backwards, Percy just missed the small table covered precariously in books. The back of his knees hit the chair, and he sat, pulling Regan down with him.
Gasping as she was abruptly settled astride Percy's lap, though by no means unhappy with the arrangement, Regan pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, then leaned back just enough to find his gaze with hers. Her fingers toyed with his plait, surreptitiously slipping the ribbon from its end, and she was drawn to his lips again, taking the bottom between her own teeth for a gentle tug.
He shivered when her fingers began playing with the long ends of his hair, slowly undoing the strands. His hand tugged on her hair, pulling her mouth from his and granting him access to the pale line of her neck. Percy breathed, deeply, running his nose down the shell of her ear before placing his lips on her neck, following the light tracery of veins to where neck met shoulder. She smelled like Regan, and he couldn't seem to stop himself.
"Oh," Regan breathed, the rest of her air coming in little pants as Percy brushed his lips over her skin. The bubble of liquid heat his kisses always gave her was twisting with this new touch, the licks of electric contact zipping straight through her and causing gooseflesh to ripple over her arms, up her neck to where he teased. She'd forgotten her quest to free his plait as soon as his hand had fisted in her curls, but her fingers remembered, and she combed the ginger tail over the back of her hand.
"Mmmm," he hummed, low, agreeing. Percy hadn't realized until the moment Regan's lips met his that he was touch starved. He pulled back enough to meet Regan's hazy gaze with his own.
"It seems the books make poor chaperones," he said, voice rough. "I can't seem to mind horribly."
"Nor I," Regan murmured, licking her kiss-swollen lips. Please don't push me away, again. She loosened the final loop of the braid that had taunted her for months, and sifted her fingertips slowly through that glorious length of hair, waiting.
His eyes fell shut, and he had to repress the moan wanting to leave his mouth. Her fingers were in his hair. Those lovely, nimble fingers were moving through his hair. The part of his brain that was usually hammering moralities and questions was shut off, silent.
"You have forever to not stop doing that."
Pleased beyond measure at this development, Regan smiled and let her nails scratch lightly over Percy's scalp, then carded his ginger mane out to its ends, repeating the pattern of motion in an easy, rhythmic cycle. "I believe I can manage that much," she said quietly, dusting a kiss across his lips before dipping hers to the line of his throat, nuzzling the strong column as her hands kept up their mesmer. She was abuzz, yet, and not keen on giving up this proximity in any hurry.
Her jumper was definitely in the way, Percy decided, when his hand kept meeting with bunched knitted fabric. Pulling Regan against him, he used the leverage to tug the material higher, so his fingers could brush against the warm skin of her lower back.
Regan gave a little squeak of surprise as Percy's hands were suddenly on her skin, her fingers curling in his hair for a beat as the delicious shock rippled through her. It felt wonderfully... dangerous, almost... for him to be touching her, and she didn't want him to stop. Shifting closer, she flicked her tongue in a meandering trail up his neck, her hands taking up their pattern again.
This, this he didn't want to hurry. Heat pinpointed where her skin hit his, her fingers threaded in his hair, and turned into warmth that burned through the rest of his body. Percy tugged on Regan's hair, pulling her lips back to his, teeth and tongue demanding her compliance.
Breath catching at the forceful handling, unexpected from Percy, who was usually so patient, but not unpleasant, Regan stilled in his grasp, letting him move her as he would. Her mind too distracted to keep order, her fingers were idle in their motions as she yielded to his kiss, a little sigh slipping past the nip of his teeth. She shivered, though she was too warm by half, her blood singing in a giddy rush.
His fingers counted the line of her spine from top to bottom. Percy tugged Regan closer, knees higher around his torso, before dipping her back, his arms the only thing supporting her. He swallowed her gasp of surprise, responding with a low growl of satisfaction, hoping that the grip of her fingers might leave behind reminders of their encounter.
Skin flushing a bright pink as Percy's fingers mapped her bare skin, gooseflesh following in the wake of his exploration, Regan lay restlessly in his embrace, one hand curled tightly about the back of his neck, the other dancing across his shoulder, seeking purchase, something. Her whole person was alert to his touch, all the places their bodies met and the delicious tease of his lips on hers, and it wasn't quite enough, somehow.
"Lovely," he murmured against her lips, hands tracing the slight curve of skin under her sweater, hands stopping when his thumbs met hip bone, tracing back and forth. A smile curved his lips as he felt goosebumps form along Regan's skin.
Percy's fingers were warm against her back, her sides, and the light stroking was just on the pleasant side of ticklish, making her arch and squirm, not entirely sure if she was trying to get closer or further away from the sensation. "Percy," she breathed plaintively, nails biting at the flesh of his shoulder, eyes fluttering open as his mouth left hers for a moment.
"Mmmmm, yes, dove?" he replied, meeting her gaze. His fingers had left her hips and were playing with the bit of sweater hem resting just above her leggings, hinting at alabaster skin.
The use of something other than her name was a tiny bit startling in itself, but far more was the semi-intent fidgeting with the bottom of her jumper, his hands only just brushing her stomach in narrow, unpredictable caresses. One small fraction of the already minimal active part of her mind was terrified by the idea of what Percy might want, but his having his hands on her was lovely, thus far, and she wasn't ready for that to stop.
"You can," she whispered, her fingertips kneading at the base of his neck as her eyes fell a trace shyly from his. A sharp bolt of anticipation sang up her spine at the permission, a shiver rippling out to the rest of her body.
He had needed to hear her permission, spoken, out loud. The soft words whispered down his skin, and he was hardly aware when he had wrapped Regan's legs behind him, and carried her to the chaise. He unwrapped her from around his person, and hovered over her on all fours, loose hair falling to curtain them from the room.
"I can this?" he asked, hand moving to push her jumper up, revealing inches of skin, stopping just short of her breasts, his mouth following slowly behind.
Eyes wide, her heart thundering, deafeningly loud in her own ears as Percy braced himself above her, Regan tried to remember to breathe. Her hands flitted uncertainly along his shoulders, body tensing slightly as he moved the fabric out of his way, exposing her skin to his eyes and the cooler air of the room.
His lips were on her, then, and a great many other things ceased to matter, at least loudly enough to be noticed, as a gasp rushed her air away, fingers twining in the bright cascade of his hair. "Yes," was formed as a slightly strangled moan, her grip tightening as his tongue flicked out to taste her.
Gods, that sound. It plucked at the strings of his self control. The thing keeping him moving slowly, pacing himself, as it was glaringly obvious that this was new to Regan; keeping him from ripping off the thin barrier of leggings and knickers, wrapping her legs around his waist, and making her make that noise again.
Percy watched the goosebumps raise along her skin as he nipped lightly just below her navel, soothing the bite with his tongue. He wanted to hear his name in that breathy moan.
Arching into the little shock of his teeth on her flesh, the contrast of the slick heat that followed, Regan lost a soft mew to sensation, writhing fitfully under Percy's mouth. Her whole skin tingled, alive and waiting for more touch, that craving for the press of him that she'd felt in the moment he lay above her.
Fingers questing, she sifted the fall of ginger hair, dipping her fingertips below the collar of his shirt and scraping gently back up the column of his neck.
There was fine tremble running down his back. He shook himself slightly before pressing his lips to Regan's navel before moving to her neck, nipping lightly just below her ear. She smelled slightly of roses, and rosin.
"You may take liberties to roam," he said against her neck.
Momentarily stunned by the switch in direction, Regan was still save for the shiver that Percy's nibble of her neck caused, her fingers swirling an idle pattern over his shoulders. Recovering enough to speak, she observed breathily, "It's not quite as challenging an enticement, I think, if I've been granted permission..."
Taking the opportunity nonetheless, she twined arms and legs about his limbs, tugging him to rest against her as her skin seemed to demand, requesting softly, "Lie with me," as she brushed her lips along his jaw.
His eyes widened, and he was prepared to protest, until the fog Regan had made of his thinking process cleared, and he realized her intent. He settled around her, pushing his hair to one side. Percy had the brief thought of pulling it back again, but Regan seemed to continue to want to play with his hair, and he was not going to encourage her to stop.
"As you wish," he replied.
"I wish," Regan confirmed, curling her fingers in his ginger mane and guiding his lips to hers once more.
{SUMMARY:Regan and Percy get a little closer.}