Distracted
Location: North Weyr
Time: Wee hours of Day 6, Month 2, Turn 3, shortly after this scene.
Players: Roa and Ashwin
Scene: After talking with Jensen about mostly bad things, Roa wants to do something else for a while.
Perhaps the night was long for both of them. Roa spent it in Jensen's office, discussing all manner of things, and Ashwin spent it on patrol. Now, nearly sunrise, a rather drowsy Roa pushes open the door to the weyr and slips inside, kicking her shoes off. Tialith sleeps deeply on her couch, no longer very lean at all, though not as gravid as she will yet become. It is enough, though, to have her tired and more lethargic than normal. She does not even wake for her rider's arrival.
There she'll find Ashwin already ready for bed -- his sleepwear consists only of a pair of loose, drawstring pants, these necessary due to the frequency with which the Weyrwoman's weyr is invaded. He's hauling back the curtains that surround the bed, a pitcher of water in one hand, a yawn muffled. Her entrance is noted, and she earns herself a small, private smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling a little.
The smile is returned from Roa's own lips as she trudges over to the wardrobe to peel off her clothing and tug on, instead, a cream-colored tank top and a pair of loose, cotton trousers, grey that has nearly faded to white. Her hands are up in her hair, working to free it, as she begins moving towards the little makeshift 'bedroom' the now-parted curtains create. "Hey, you."
"Hey, you," he murmurs in response, setting the pitcher down, and climbing onto the bed, so he can lean across her and tug her side of the bed untucked. "Evening patrol?"
"After a fashion." Roa does not, however, go to her side of the bed. She sinks down next to him instead, leaning forward to rest her forehead against his arm. "Help."
Before he speaks, Ashwin reaches to wrap an arm around her, pulling her in against him so that he can tuck her under his chin. "All those weavers wanting to make you things, so you're seen wearing their clothes," he murmurs, the words faintly amused, spoken into her hair. "You should speak to Darcie's weaver, the stuff she sleeps in..." With a squeeze, he turns his mind to a more helpful frame. "What'm I helping with?"
She laughs. "Darcie has her own weaver? What if she says Darcie doesn't wear anything to bed?" Roa sinks in against him, eyes closing as she gives the Lieutenant his assignment. "Head's full. Need a break from thinking for a little while."
"She wears something to bed," Ashwin reassures her with a laugh. "Just ask her, she's happy to elaborate." A soft kiss for her temple, and then another for the top of her head, and then all the way down to her other temple. "You want to empty it, or be distracted from it?" His arm is already around her, hand curving down to her hip in anticipation of the latter reply.
"Distracted," comes the affirmation. "Distraction would be lovely, please." Roa's hand lifts, to tuck her downed tresses behind her ears. "I'll ask her the next time I'm there. You'll be there sooner, though." She leans back a bit, tipping her chin up as his hand drifts.
"You think I'm starting a conversation with Darcie about," Ash replies, digging his hand under her hip so he can lift her backwards, and then ease her further back, turning to lean over her, "those bits of silk and lace she wears," there's a brief smile, perhaps at the thought of them, "then you're sorely mistaken." There's a pause, as he raises himself on his hands, so that he can duck his head, and press his lips to her throat. "Suit you, though."
"For someone who won't ask....mmm..." the little weyrwoman leans back easily, her head tilting so that he can have better access to her throat, "you sure do a lot of thinking on those lacy bits." She stretches, back arching, muscles reaching and relaxing again as the motion concludes.
"I do lots of thinking on you," Ash corrects her, keeping his weight lifted on his hands and knees, so that though she arches, she won't make contact. He's teasing, smiling faintly as he does, nosing his way slowly down her neck, to her shoulder, and pushing the strap of her tank out of the way so he can follow the line of her skin. Gone are his yawns.
"Sure," comes Roa's soft murmur, but he's doing his job well and as she's already becoming distracted, she’s likely a touch unaware of what she's just said. Her shoulder shrugs, arm moving to pull free from that strap entirely before reaching to try and curl her fingers into his hair.
"Sure," Ash echoes, in contradiction of her contradiction. "All day long, and all night. Think about this," as his hand curves in under the small of her back, and then slides down, lifting her up towards him for a moment, "and this," as his lips slowly work back up to her neck, then shift course down to her collarbone. "Keep you up past dawn, showing you what I think."
Her fingertips stroke at his cheek, brush the scar by his temple and then tangle themselves in his pale hair as her other hand curls lightly around one of his arms. "Nearly dawn now," Roa practically hums. "I can stay up a little later. Always curious to learn what you think, Ash."
"That so?" Ashwin's quiet smile can be heard in his voice, as he lowers her back down onto the bed, although only so he can slide his hand up her back, and lift her there, so he can peel her tank off, kissing skin as it becomes visible. "You're what I think." His words are idle, lazy. "You don't believe that." Murmured, as she's lowered back down onto the bed again.
"Lots of things to keep you busy during the day," Roa murmurs around a small smile. "No shame in that." As the tank top is pulled free she sucks in a small breath. It wasn't much protection against the cool air, but it was a little and now that it's gone, her skin reacts accordingly. She squirms a little against the rabbit's fur cover, to sink in further against the warmth or push herself closer to him. Either, maybe. Both, maybe.
He's willing to oblige and keep her warm, lowering himself down onto his elbows, so there's less chance for cold air to reach her, although his weight is still kept a little free. That means it's easy to move, to drop his head and kiss along her collarbone, easing a knee in between hers. "There shame in my thinking on my girl all day?"
"Hmm...might be. You slip and start calling Borser 'little thing'," Roa teases, eyes blinking open to peer over at him. She shifts at his knee's gentle urging, making room for his legs between hers. His lips on her collarbone summons up a deep and contented sigh.
"Such a protest," Ashwin murmurs, lips slowly moving along a rib, murmuring the words against her skin - hot breath, against the colder air. "I wouldn't mind if you wanted to think distracting things about me all the day long. Could come home and show me what you thought."
She bites her lower lip, back arching a little bit, although this time Roa is unaware of the motion. "Think about you," she replies just a little breathless. "Can't help it."
Slowly, slowly, down her side, his lips curving to a smile against her skin just before they reach her hip. "That's a comfort." One hand curls around the hip opposite, as her pyjama pants are edged slowly down, inch by inch. "Sounds fair."
"Oh," Roa exhales softly and slowly. "Good." Her hips lift a little, obliging as hands curl around them and trousers begin to slip away. Her eyes close, and her fingers have managed to tangle themselves in the bed's top blanket.
Ashwin takes his time, examining each new inch of skin as he uncovers it, murmuring words into it, fingers gentle as her pants are slowly got out of the way. "Tell me what you think, little thing." Questions while her guard is down? Distraction? Perhaps he's just amused, listening to her speak (or try) while distracted.
Questions while her guard is down, indeed. In several different ways. The weyrwoman blinks, eyes flickering open again to peer up at the ceiling and the curtain. What she huh? "Tell you...what? When?" No sleep and a rather skilled lover lazily exercising said skills seem to result in a somewhat incoherent Roa.
Her guard simply laughs, and falls silent, applying himself with lazy concentration to distracting her entirely, now - his fingers are gentle, keeping her hips just where he wishes them, so that she cannot wriggle too far, or shift too much. Which means that when he pauses, there's no lifting her hips to chase after his touch, but rather an enforced wait until he ducks his head once more.
She is, as ever, a quiet little thing, but her breath catches at the first touch and stuttering, ragged gulps of air are all she can manage as he touches and teases, and makes her toes curl and her hips squirm as much as Ashwin's hands will allow. It is, like many of her motions since he started, not at all intentional. The pauses are mixed blessings. On the one hand, they are moments where she can catch up on the amount of air she ought to be breathing in. On the other hand, well, he's pausing.
The pauses are calculated, his own breathing slow, although that is also carefully considered, even his exhalations teasing. Ashwin intends on distracting thoroughly, and so he takes his time, and then takes more, before he finally curls his fingers a little more tightly around her hip, and leaves the pauses behind.
Roa is, well and truly, distracted. Sharp intakes of breath degrade into simple gasping and her hips squirm against his hold as her spine curves and flattens in response to his attentions. By the time the pauses stop, she's nearly bowed herself in half. Her knuckles are white where her hands clench the blankets, her skin has a thin sheen of sweat despite the cooler air, and there is a final desperate gasp before she's tumbling, shivering, shattering.
If she were not so lost in the moment, perhaps she might note that he smiles, or that he almost laughs his enjoyment, although he misses not a beat, urging her into those shakes with hands and mouth, and then urging them on, once they begin. It's some time, and a lazy wind-down later that he kisses his way back up her stomach so he can ease down beside her, hands gentle as he lifts and moves her, so he can pull the blankets into place around them.
It takes a little while, after all of that, for her to do anything more than work on breathing properly. By the time she slowly opens her eyes, she's been covered in blankets and is curled up against Ashwin. Roa shifts a bit, to settle her forehead against his throat, but all she can manage by way of approval is soft, low, appreciative groan and an arm draping across his chest in an attempted embrace.
Ashwin curls in too, tucking her under his chin, and murmuring his own wordless reply as his arms tighten around her. They're not tight for long, though, and soon he's allowing her to drape and curl in, fingers slowly combing through her hair as he shifts to a different type of urging, this time seeking to slowly lull her to sleep in his arms, his own eyes half closed.
She is a little bit aware of these attempts at nudging her off to sleep, and Roa's brows furrow, even as her muscles start to relax in that way that implies she'll nod off fairly soon. She makes a faint sound of protest and even manages a few words to chase after it. "Wait...wanted to...s'not fair if...mmf."
"Ssshhhh," Ashwin murmurs, untangling fingers from her hair so he can lay a finger across her lips. "Sleep, little thing. It's nearly morning." His words are a whisper, his own muscles relaxing as he drifts towards sleep himself. "I'm here."
She breathes out slowly, her body slackening a little more, barely awake. Still, the hand draped over his chest is restless, fitful, until it locates one of his hands and curls just around his index finger. Her grip isn't tight, but it's firm. Moreso when compared to the way tension is seeping out of the rest of her. This small task accomplished, Roa sighs softly and goes fully limp. Asleep. Her fingers stay securely curled around his.
Time: Wee hours of Day 6, Month 2, Turn 3, shortly after this scene.
Players: Roa and Ashwin
Scene: After talking with Jensen about mostly bad things, Roa wants to do something else for a while.
Perhaps the night was long for both of them. Roa spent it in Jensen's office, discussing all manner of things, and Ashwin spent it on patrol. Now, nearly sunrise, a rather drowsy Roa pushes open the door to the weyr and slips inside, kicking her shoes off. Tialith sleeps deeply on her couch, no longer very lean at all, though not as gravid as she will yet become. It is enough, though, to have her tired and more lethargic than normal. She does not even wake for her rider's arrival.
There she'll find Ashwin already ready for bed -- his sleepwear consists only of a pair of loose, drawstring pants, these necessary due to the frequency with which the Weyrwoman's weyr is invaded. He's hauling back the curtains that surround the bed, a pitcher of water in one hand, a yawn muffled. Her entrance is noted, and she earns herself a small, private smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling a little.
The smile is returned from Roa's own lips as she trudges over to the wardrobe to peel off her clothing and tug on, instead, a cream-colored tank top and a pair of loose, cotton trousers, grey that has nearly faded to white. Her hands are up in her hair, working to free it, as she begins moving towards the little makeshift 'bedroom' the now-parted curtains create. "Hey, you."
"Hey, you," he murmurs in response, setting the pitcher down, and climbing onto the bed, so he can lean across her and tug her side of the bed untucked. "Evening patrol?"
"After a fashion." Roa does not, however, go to her side of the bed. She sinks down next to him instead, leaning forward to rest her forehead against his arm. "Help."
Before he speaks, Ashwin reaches to wrap an arm around her, pulling her in against him so that he can tuck her under his chin. "All those weavers wanting to make you things, so you're seen wearing their clothes," he murmurs, the words faintly amused, spoken into her hair. "You should speak to Darcie's weaver, the stuff she sleeps in..." With a squeeze, he turns his mind to a more helpful frame. "What'm I helping with?"
She laughs. "Darcie has her own weaver? What if she says Darcie doesn't wear anything to bed?" Roa sinks in against him, eyes closing as she gives the Lieutenant his assignment. "Head's full. Need a break from thinking for a little while."
"She wears something to bed," Ashwin reassures her with a laugh. "Just ask her, she's happy to elaborate." A soft kiss for her temple, and then another for the top of her head, and then all the way down to her other temple. "You want to empty it, or be distracted from it?" His arm is already around her, hand curving down to her hip in anticipation of the latter reply.
"Distracted," comes the affirmation. "Distraction would be lovely, please." Roa's hand lifts, to tuck her downed tresses behind her ears. "I'll ask her the next time I'm there. You'll be there sooner, though." She leans back a bit, tipping her chin up as his hand drifts.
"You think I'm starting a conversation with Darcie about," Ash replies, digging his hand under her hip so he can lift her backwards, and then ease her further back, turning to lean over her, "those bits of silk and lace she wears," there's a brief smile, perhaps at the thought of them, "then you're sorely mistaken." There's a pause, as he raises himself on his hands, so that he can duck his head, and press his lips to her throat. "Suit you, though."
"For someone who won't ask....mmm..." the little weyrwoman leans back easily, her head tilting so that he can have better access to her throat, "you sure do a lot of thinking on those lacy bits." She stretches, back arching, muscles reaching and relaxing again as the motion concludes.
"I do lots of thinking on you," Ash corrects her, keeping his weight lifted on his hands and knees, so that though she arches, she won't make contact. He's teasing, smiling faintly as he does, nosing his way slowly down her neck, to her shoulder, and pushing the strap of her tank out of the way so he can follow the line of her skin. Gone are his yawns.
"Sure," comes Roa's soft murmur, but he's doing his job well and as she's already becoming distracted, she’s likely a touch unaware of what she's just said. Her shoulder shrugs, arm moving to pull free from that strap entirely before reaching to try and curl her fingers into his hair.
"Sure," Ash echoes, in contradiction of her contradiction. "All day long, and all night. Think about this," as his hand curves in under the small of her back, and then slides down, lifting her up towards him for a moment, "and this," as his lips slowly work back up to her neck, then shift course down to her collarbone. "Keep you up past dawn, showing you what I think."
Her fingertips stroke at his cheek, brush the scar by his temple and then tangle themselves in his pale hair as her other hand curls lightly around one of his arms. "Nearly dawn now," Roa practically hums. "I can stay up a little later. Always curious to learn what you think, Ash."
"That so?" Ashwin's quiet smile can be heard in his voice, as he lowers her back down onto the bed, although only so he can slide his hand up her back, and lift her there, so he can peel her tank off, kissing skin as it becomes visible. "You're what I think." His words are idle, lazy. "You don't believe that." Murmured, as she's lowered back down onto the bed again.
"Lots of things to keep you busy during the day," Roa murmurs around a small smile. "No shame in that." As the tank top is pulled free she sucks in a small breath. It wasn't much protection against the cool air, but it was a little and now that it's gone, her skin reacts accordingly. She squirms a little against the rabbit's fur cover, to sink in further against the warmth or push herself closer to him. Either, maybe. Both, maybe.
He's willing to oblige and keep her warm, lowering himself down onto his elbows, so there's less chance for cold air to reach her, although his weight is still kept a little free. That means it's easy to move, to drop his head and kiss along her collarbone, easing a knee in between hers. "There shame in my thinking on my girl all day?"
"Hmm...might be. You slip and start calling Borser 'little thing'," Roa teases, eyes blinking open to peer over at him. She shifts at his knee's gentle urging, making room for his legs between hers. His lips on her collarbone summons up a deep and contented sigh.
"Such a protest," Ashwin murmurs, lips slowly moving along a rib, murmuring the words against her skin - hot breath, against the colder air. "I wouldn't mind if you wanted to think distracting things about me all the day long. Could come home and show me what you thought."
She bites her lower lip, back arching a little bit, although this time Roa is unaware of the motion. "Think about you," she replies just a little breathless. "Can't help it."
Slowly, slowly, down her side, his lips curving to a smile against her skin just before they reach her hip. "That's a comfort." One hand curls around the hip opposite, as her pyjama pants are edged slowly down, inch by inch. "Sounds fair."
"Oh," Roa exhales softly and slowly. "Good." Her hips lift a little, obliging as hands curl around them and trousers begin to slip away. Her eyes close, and her fingers have managed to tangle themselves in the bed's top blanket.
Ashwin takes his time, examining each new inch of skin as he uncovers it, murmuring words into it, fingers gentle as her pants are slowly got out of the way. "Tell me what you think, little thing." Questions while her guard is down? Distraction? Perhaps he's just amused, listening to her speak (or try) while distracted.
Questions while her guard is down, indeed. In several different ways. The weyrwoman blinks, eyes flickering open again to peer up at the ceiling and the curtain. What she huh? "Tell you...what? When?" No sleep and a rather skilled lover lazily exercising said skills seem to result in a somewhat incoherent Roa.
Her guard simply laughs, and falls silent, applying himself with lazy concentration to distracting her entirely, now - his fingers are gentle, keeping her hips just where he wishes them, so that she cannot wriggle too far, or shift too much. Which means that when he pauses, there's no lifting her hips to chase after his touch, but rather an enforced wait until he ducks his head once more.
She is, as ever, a quiet little thing, but her breath catches at the first touch and stuttering, ragged gulps of air are all she can manage as he touches and teases, and makes her toes curl and her hips squirm as much as Ashwin's hands will allow. It is, like many of her motions since he started, not at all intentional. The pauses are mixed blessings. On the one hand, they are moments where she can catch up on the amount of air she ought to be breathing in. On the other hand, well, he's pausing.
The pauses are calculated, his own breathing slow, although that is also carefully considered, even his exhalations teasing. Ashwin intends on distracting thoroughly, and so he takes his time, and then takes more, before he finally curls his fingers a little more tightly around her hip, and leaves the pauses behind.
Roa is, well and truly, distracted. Sharp intakes of breath degrade into simple gasping and her hips squirm against his hold as her spine curves and flattens in response to his attentions. By the time the pauses stop, she's nearly bowed herself in half. Her knuckles are white where her hands clench the blankets, her skin has a thin sheen of sweat despite the cooler air, and there is a final desperate gasp before she's tumbling, shivering, shattering.
If she were not so lost in the moment, perhaps she might note that he smiles, or that he almost laughs his enjoyment, although he misses not a beat, urging her into those shakes with hands and mouth, and then urging them on, once they begin. It's some time, and a lazy wind-down later that he kisses his way back up her stomach so he can ease down beside her, hands gentle as he lifts and moves her, so he can pull the blankets into place around them.
It takes a little while, after all of that, for her to do anything more than work on breathing properly. By the time she slowly opens her eyes, she's been covered in blankets and is curled up against Ashwin. Roa shifts a bit, to settle her forehead against his throat, but all she can manage by way of approval is soft, low, appreciative groan and an arm draping across his chest in an attempted embrace.
Ashwin curls in too, tucking her under his chin, and murmuring his own wordless reply as his arms tighten around her. They're not tight for long, though, and soon he's allowing her to drape and curl in, fingers slowly combing through her hair as he shifts to a different type of urging, this time seeking to slowly lull her to sleep in his arms, his own eyes half closed.
She is a little bit aware of these attempts at nudging her off to sleep, and Roa's brows furrow, even as her muscles start to relax in that way that implies she'll nod off fairly soon. She makes a faint sound of protest and even manages a few words to chase after it. "Wait...wanted to...s'not fair if...mmf."
"Ssshhhh," Ashwin murmurs, untangling fingers from her hair so he can lay a finger across her lips. "Sleep, little thing. It's nearly morning." His words are a whisper, his own muscles relaxing as he drifts towards sleep himself. "I'm here."
She breathes out slowly, her body slackening a little more, barely awake. Still, the hand draped over his chest is restless, fitful, until it locates one of his hands and curls just around his index finger. Her grip isn't tight, but it's firm. Moreso when compared to the way tension is seeping out of the rest of her. This small task accomplished, Roa sighs softly and goes fully limp. Asleep. Her fingers stay securely curled around his.