totalwildcard | Apartment Above Needful Things; Later Friday

Entry tags:

apartment,
marc

Apartment Above Needful Things; Later Friday

It was not as dusty in the upstairs apartment as it had been the last time Marc had been up there. Like, sure, it was still dusty in places because Harley and her attention span had prioritized the spots that she actually used on a daily basis, but still! The living room slash kitchen space that they entered into from the stairs was actually looking lived in now, with stuff like cereal packages and coffee on the kitchen counters and some empty takeaway cartons littering the coffee table Harley had hauled up from the store.

Hey, the narrative had said it wasn't that dusty anymore, not anything about there being no mess. It wasn't too bad, anyway, there was just a little bit of clutter!

So far.

Whatever, Harley had put some personal touches in. Some eclectic decor pieces around the place, a pop art style painting on one of the walls, that sorta thing. (And a taxidermy beaver in a tutu on the counter, but Beaver wasn't decor.)

"Well, here we are!" Harley announced. "I promise this place isn't as much of a sneezing hazard anymore."

(for that guy, continued from here! NSFW)

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"Oh, I looked plenty adult back in those days, too," Harley assured him with one of those wicked smirks of hers. "You woulda blushed."

No, but it was fun to say. Especially when her hand snuck up to cup his cheek.

"I strike you as a guy who blushes?" Marc asked, smirking right back at her.

He didn't move away from her hand on his cheek. Wasn't the same as the clinging or the fingernails she was doing earlier but it was, yanno, whatever. Warm or something. Maybe even fine.

Good. Then he wouldn't mind Harley brushing her thumb back and forth just the tiniest bit, either.

"Maybe not," she mused, "but a gal's gotta have dreams."

Marc didn't move away when she did it. Just don't ask him to acknowledge that maybe he leaned into it a little instead.

"That's the dream?" Marc asked, quirking his eyebrows up in bemusement. "Me blushing?"

Marc, technically that would mean you had a facial expression. Of course it initially sounded like a pie in the sky idea.

Way Harley saw it, he hadn't gone in on how her body was a half-vandalized shrine to a past relationship, so the least he deserved back was her not calling him out for accepting a little bit of affection.

Besides, it was nice. The little lean. She kept at it.

"Could be!"

Marc settled down on top of her, his hands resting on her sides. This had the advantage of her body being pressed against his (albeit with his clothes still in the way, but that didn't mean all her softness and warmth didn't feel still feel nice). And if that meant it was easy for Harley to keep going with that touch, that was probably coincidence.

"I thought you were the one with imagination."

"Oh, I am," Harley confirmed, smirking. "Doesn't mean I'm gonna share everything, now does it?"

Was that her other hand brushing up the side of his neck? What a coincidence!

"Wouldn't dream of asking you to," Marc assured her.

He tilted his head to give more room for her hand on his neck. But that was just being polite or something.

So polite! Politeness Harley was going to take advantage of, brushing fingertips down along his neck, then dragging nails up the other way.

"But do you wanna know what I'm imagining right now?" she teased. "'Cause that I can tell you."

Those fingernails got a much warmer look out of Marc. He shifted against her. "Do tell."

"What you got going on under all those clothes, for starters," Harley shared, gladly, keeping up the brush-scratch cycle of her fingertips for now. "I'm imagining muscle, and so much more of your pretty skin, and judging by the real insistent bulge in your pants, something that won't disappoint..."

Look, Marc didn't shiver so that definitely wasn't happening in response to what she was doing with her fingertips.

What he did do was give her a look of invitation. "One way to find out."

The clothes, the muscles, all of it.

Oh but he had shivered, and Harley made note of it for future reference, to boot.

But in this moment, she chirped, "True!"

It was a very short trek for her hands to slide down from his neck and cheek to begin shoving his button-down off his shoulders.

Marc had no problem with that. And since he wasn't on his back it was easy enough for him to move his arms if she was looking to get that shirt off of him entirely.

"Feel free to keep going," he told her, since she'd been so kind to give him the same all clear earlier.

Harley was indeed looking to get the shirt fully off him. And then the one underneath it, too, in short order.

After which she promptly got distracted by running her hands along his chest. "Oh, pretty," she sighed, positively adoring in tone.

Marc had no problem with Harley looking or touching. He even held himself up enough so she could have a good angle for it.

Depending on how observant she was it might be the first time she noticed that the necklace he and Steven always wore was a silver Star of David, given that it tended to naturally fall under their shirt collars. Not purposefully hidden, just often not easy to see other than the chain peeking out.

As for Harley's view, there were those muscles as well as smooth, completely bare skin. No tattoos anywhere, but also no scar tissue. The only marks on him were any that Harley had made that afternoon.

"Better than you imagined?" he asked. Not insecure. Genuinely curious.

It was hard to imagine Marc insecure, anyway. At least about something like this.

And yes, Harley clocked the Star of David, and put it together with a fuzzy recollection of a twitch she'd thought she'd noticed earlier, in an 'oh so there's Significance here' kind of way. Probably best to stay away from that for now, she figured.

Anyway, there had been a question? "Yes, she breathed, excitably, raking her nails slowly down along the center of his chest. "You're so hot." Not news, not a surprise, still worth saying!

"Gotta keep up with you," Marc said. Which, yanno, didn't really make sense but the sentiment was that since he was enjoying his view right now, it worked out nicely if she was enjoying hers as well.

He shifted into her again. Not rushing her. Just letting her know he was enjoying her touch as well.

It didn't need to make sense for Harley to preen a bit regardless!

And yes, while the sentiment clearly wasn't about rushing her, it did draw some of her attention a little further down. "God, we're gonna have to get you outta those pants real soon."

Just, in a moment. She was busy tracing a spiral around one of his nipples with a nail.

Marc was very much for getting the rest of his clothes out of the way. But if she was going to do that with her hands he was going to move in to kiss her breathless again.

Sure he could say something to indicate he liked it. But it couldn't be a surprise anymore that Marc preferred action to words.

It wasn't, and Harley was beginning to learn to read his reactions for what they were.

Not that this one was a particularly subtle one, with all its fervor. Which Harley was also feeding right back to him, both in the kiss and in pressing her nails more firmly into his skin as they dragged along it. He clearly liked it, so why not kick up the intensity?

Harley's response got something like a growl out of Marc. Which could technically count as some kind of verbal feedback. But it was accompanied by him biting at her lips and rocking into her again, so really it was more about the physical. Her enthusiasm, her touch - he wanted more of it.

Jesus.

Oh, if he was going to be like that, Harley was goimg to have to start multitasking. She could have one hand scratching the hell out of his chest, while the other slid down to do its level best undoing his pants. Stuttery and distracted, but even a little bit of progress was still progress.

On the plus side at least there was nothing too complicated about it? No belt. One button and a zip fly. And a pair of black boxer briefs underneath if Harley got that far.

Of course, while Marc had no problem with her getting that far and removing the rest of his clothes entirely, he did keep kissing her hungrily. So it could be argued that once again he was getting in his own way here.

Yeah, there was no way Harley was getting that far. Best she could really do was fumbling the button open (honestly pretty impressive, one-handed and without seeing a damn thing), then work the fly down only to get distracted by the kiss again.

So it could be said he was also getting in Harley's way.

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