No, I know you find me wildly distracting. You married me while you were on a holiday, obviously I'm distracting. [And he is pleased about it, thanks.] But I also know you, so I know you can manage your feelings well enough to ignore even the wildest of distractions.
Good. [ That he knows. And is pleased. He ought to be. ] And yes. Or I'd hardly have done a moment's work since you moved in here. Fine.
[ She sits up a little, enough to lift her hand palm out, and puts on a mock-serious face. ]
I promise I will do my very best not to let you distract me for the duration of this test. Whatever it may be. [ She lowers all but one of her fingers. ] If you promise that it will not involve the irritating sort of distraction.
With me just lounging a few feet away, at all hours, [is Darras' agreement to the first part. To the second: he considers what she's said, then, with solemnity (which he hastily assumes), he holds his hand out to her in return.]
I promise my distraction will not be the irritating sort. I know you hate to be irritated. Who doesn't, really, but you most of all. But I don't want to seal this with a handshake, I'd prefer a kiss.
Beginning the distraction straight away. [ The arch of her brow is accusation, but she's not about to refuse. Though she does, just after lips meet, break away the millimeter or two required to add ] If this is a trap--
Shh, [Darras counters, which Yseult will not like--but she will, almost certainly, like better the way that he closes those spare millimetres between their mouths, the way he presses his fingers to the side of her head, skimming over her ear before finding where he wants them buried, in her hair, and he kisses her more firmly this time.
This kiss is distracting, and a better seal of their agreement besides.]
[ Distracting and a good seal of their bargain it may be, but that does not rule out it being a trap. Yseult is not going to forget that uncertainty so quickly. But she may choose to ignore it temporarily, while she's given more important things to deal with. Like his hand in her hair, or her own creeping up over a knee to grip and pull herself closer.
Still. ] I did just swear I would do my very best to resist [ she reminds, lifting her chin away and in the process presenting her throat in its place ] so if this is part of the test....
[--Darras says, as he moves to press a kiss to her throat--and then a second, and a third, following the long line of her neck down to her collarbone--and just below it, where the faintest dusting of summer freckles still can be seen on her chest, if you are close enough--which he is, frequently, and lucky to be so.]
Yes. [ Yseult doesn't hesitate to accuse in kind, but also doesn't hesitate to shift a little further down the couch, angling back against the arm to make it easier for Darras to continue. The neck of her shirt is no obstacle, loose and stretched from years of washings, the sort of worn-soft thing she only puts on when the day is done and the door shut to visitors. ]
You are a pirate, after all. [ She runs fingers up the back of his neck, nails pricking at hairline before making a u-turn to slide down the back of his sweater. ] Not exactly known for fair play.
[He laughs, briefly interrupting the line of his kissing. The press of her fingertips, fingernails, raises the little hairs on his neck. That, too, is distracting, in a good way.]
A pirate, [another counter, as he kisses her again, just under the hollow of her throat, just below the delicate join of her collarbones, slender and bird-like, where there are more freckles, faint like stars just before sunrise,] who loves his wife. A pirate who wouldn't resort to trickery of his wife, who he loves--
[There's mercy in the stretched-out neck of her shirt. Gives him room to kiss her. He pushes his hand under it from the other direction, bare skin on bare skin.]
[ She laughs, chest thrumming under his mouth, his hand. ] But I would cheat?
[ Fingertips press into muscle, the long lean lines of it roped down his spine, the bunch and pull over shoulder blades as he moves. She can see it clear in her mind, as he cuts thatch on a summer day or hauls on an oar. Another tickling bite of nails on the way back up like the instinctive awareness of attention, before her grip settles firm on his shoulder. ]
He doesn't think much of the wife he loves, this pirate.
[There isn't a better feeling in the world than Yseult's laugh, or a better sound. Darras takes a moment to appreciate it, as much as he appreciates the crawl of her fingers, gentle pressure, the gentle prickling of her fingernails on his skin. He presses a kiss to her chest, the flat plane of her breastbone.]
On the contrary-- [He pulls at her shirt, intent to draw it over her head, interrupting his own line of kissing to make this important change.] He thinks everything of the wife he loves.
[ Her voice may be momentarily muffled by the passage of shirt over head, but Yseult isn't about to let that stop her. The dry tone comes through the cloth just fine, and her eyebrow's still arched at him when her head is free again.
She tugs at his sweater too while they're at it, getting a fistful of soft wool at the back of his shoulder and hauling upwards until she's trapped Darras's head inside. And then leaving it there. ]
[Inside his sweater, Darras laughs. The trap has interrupted his concentration. He sits back, trying to pull the sweater the rest of the way off, momentarily abandoning his hot half-naked wife. For a good cause, of course. The wool is soft but that does nothing for breathing through it.]
I don't see. You did this on purpose. How is this not cheating?
This is the precise opposite of cheating! I'm resisting you, as requested. [ And laughing as he struggles.
Except it's not actually quite as effective a strategy as she'd intended. He looks a bit ridiculous, obviously, but sitting back and wrestling with the sweater over his head has the unintended advantage of showing off a swath of bare torso broadening from belt to chest, muscles taut and working as he reaches and pulls. Yseult watches for a moment where she's been left reclining against the couch arm, and then suddenly surges upright and forward. Not to help him, but to interfere with a distracting press of mouth to abdomen and hands tugging loose belt buckle. ]
Now [ she says, with a drag of teeth ] I may be cheating.
[Whatever he'd been about to say--something like the laughter calls that into question, for starters, and then go from there--is entirely interrupted. Blinded by his sweater, distracted by his imprisonment, he can't dodge her (as if he would, really). The press of her lips on his bare skin makes him inhale, sharp and surprised--and laugh, even as his back arches a little--]
This cheating-- [He has to keep struggling with the sweater, he's so close to freedom, and now it's a race--] This cheating, I like.
[ A race in opposite directions as he fights his way up and out of the sweater and she skims and scrapes a path downwards. Buckle clunks loose and is pulled free with a whisk of leather on cloth, pants pushed down only far enough to create a second tangling obstacle were he to try to stand. But that seems unlikely, as her palm settles flat and warm over his breastbone and pushes. ]
On second thought, I'm still within the letter of our agreement. [ She decides as she presses him back and down onto the couch, still not helping resolve the sweater situation if he hasn't managed it yet. Instead he'll feel her fit herself neatly between his knees, hands sliding up haunches. ] I have every intention of remaining extremely focused.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2021-03-31 01:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-03-31 09:01 pm (UTC)What if we do two rounds--one now, and one as a surprise later, while you're working? That way there won't be a chance of cheating.
no subject
Date: 2021-04-03 04:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-04-03 11:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-04-03 11:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-04-03 11:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-04-03 11:49 pm (UTC)[ She sits up a little, enough to lift her hand palm out, and puts on a mock-serious face. ]
I promise I will do my very best not to let you distract me for the duration of this test. Whatever it may be. [ She lowers all but one of her fingers. ] If you promise that it will not involve the irritating sort of distraction.
no subject
Date: 2021-04-04 05:04 am (UTC)I promise my distraction will not be the irritating sort. I know you hate to be irritated. Who doesn't, really, but you most of all. But I don't want to seal this with a handshake, I'd prefer a kiss.
no subject
Date: 2021-04-04 11:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-04-07 12:24 am (UTC)This kiss is distracting, and a better seal of their agreement besides.]
no subject
Date: 2021-04-07 01:16 am (UTC)Still. ] I did just swear I would do my very best to resist [ she reminds, lifting her chin away and in the process presenting her throat in its place ] so if this is part of the test....
no subject
Date: 2021-04-08 12:12 am (UTC)[--Darras says, as he moves to press a kiss to her throat--and then a second, and a third, following the long line of her neck down to her collarbone--and just below it, where the faintest dusting of summer freckles still can be seen on her chest, if you are close enough--which he is, frequently, and lucky to be so.]
no subject
Date: 2021-04-08 12:41 am (UTC)You are a pirate, after all. [ She runs fingers up the back of his neck, nails pricking at hairline before making a u-turn to slide down the back of his sweater. ] Not exactly known for fair play.
no subject
Date: 2021-04-08 03:42 am (UTC)A pirate, [another counter, as he kisses her again, just under the hollow of her throat, just below the delicate join of her collarbones, slender and bird-like, where there are more freckles, faint like stars just before sunrise,] who loves his wife. A pirate who wouldn't resort to trickery of his wife, who he loves--
[There's mercy in the stretched-out neck of her shirt. Gives him room to kiss her. He pushes his hand under it from the other direction, bare skin on bare skin.]
no subject
Date: 2021-04-08 04:32 am (UTC)[ Fingertips press into muscle, the long lean lines of it roped down his spine, the bunch and pull over shoulder blades as he moves. She can see it clear in her mind, as he cuts thatch on a summer day or hauls on an oar. Another tickling bite of nails on the way back up like the instinctive awareness of attention, before her grip settles firm on his shoulder. ]
He doesn't think much of the wife he loves, this pirate.
no subject
Date: 2021-04-09 11:34 pm (UTC)On the contrary-- [He pulls at her shirt, intent to draw it over her head, interrupting his own line of kissing to make this important change.] He thinks everything of the wife he loves.
no subject
Date: 2021-04-15 11:52 pm (UTC)[ Her voice may be momentarily muffled by the passage of shirt over head, but Yseult isn't about to let that stop her. The dry tone comes through the cloth just fine, and her eyebrow's still arched at him when her head is free again.
She tugs at his sweater too while they're at it, getting a fistful of soft wool at the back of his shoulder and hauling upwards until she's trapped Darras's head inside. And then leaving it there. ]
I see.
no subject
Date: 2021-04-21 01:05 am (UTC)I don't see. You did this on purpose. How is this not cheating?
no subject
Date: 2021-04-21 01:36 am (UTC)Except it's not actually quite as effective a strategy as she'd intended. He looks a bit ridiculous, obviously, but sitting back and wrestling with the sweater over his head has the unintended advantage of showing off a swath of bare torso broadening from belt to chest, muscles taut and working as he reaches and pulls. Yseult watches for a moment where she's been left reclining against the couch arm, and then suddenly surges upright and forward. Not to help him, but to interfere with a distracting press of mouth to abdomen and hands tugging loose belt buckle. ]
Now [ she says, with a drag of teeth ] I may be cheating.
no subject
Date: 2021-04-21 02:51 am (UTC)This cheating-- [He has to keep struggling with the sweater, he's so close to freedom, and now it's a race--] This cheating, I like.
no subject
Date: 2021-04-21 03:31 am (UTC)On second thought, I'm still within the letter of our agreement. [ She decides as she presses him back and down onto the couch, still not helping resolve the sweater situation if he hasn't managed it yet. Instead he'll feel her fit herself neatly between his knees, hands sliding up haunches. ] I have every intention of remaining extremely focused.