totalwildcard | Apartment Above Needful Things; Later Friday

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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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It did, yes! And Harley was already congratulating herself for clocking that possibility in advance. She also immediately scratched harder at his back, because one sort of upped intensity deserved another.

And if that wasn't enough to communicate her approval... "That's it, baby, don't be shy," she told him breathlessly, "show me what you got."

She could take a pounding, and would in fact love one.

That permission broke the last bit of holding back Marc had in him. Forget three rooms, there was two years' worth of hunger (not the body's, but Marc's) now demanding to be sated.

He kissed Harley hard and rough, moving into her firmer and faster in a way that suggested perhaps truck had been an underestimation for how - ahem - driven he could be.

It was clear he was chasing his own moment of letting it all go. But he snuck one hand down between them, fingertips dancing where she was sensitive and slippery, because the goal here wasn't to take but to have.

He'd been so concerned about losing control, and here was Harley with all her noises growing louder and happier, her body all wrapped up around his like she wanted every last bit he could give, even before his hand snuck to where it would make sure she unraveled properly - and likely in short order, too.

And as for Harley's hands, they were all over him now, back, sides, chest, arms, doing their level best to leave reddened welts behind. Anything she could reach was getting its share of her nails.

Feeling Harley start to get there while wrapped around him, her nails sending bright and sharp sensations through him, was the final touch needed to send Marc over, his movements faster and harder until the climax hit, sending him over as he kissed her roughly, murmuring things that didn't really make sense but sounded complimentary.

Harley's breathless, keening encouragement probably wasn't the most coherent thing either, so it was the thought that counted.

But the sensations were the most important thing, and between Marc ramping things up somehow one last bit further in his final moments, the fingering from earlier and the way his fingers rubbed and slipped against her now --

Yes, Harley followed him into unraveling only a few beats after, with a loud moan that may have had his name in it, clinging and clenching and shuddering again.

Marc rode and kissed Harley through it, still feeling the rush of his own climax - and glad for the feeling of her to keep him from getting too lost in it.

But he was coming down enough that the things he murmured sounded closer to "That's it. I've got you. Beautiful." and the like as she went up and over again.

It was all in her ears as she did.

And then all in her head once she had, as she was drawing deep, noisy breaths and slowly relaxing back into the matress. Still holding him, just a little less desperately.

Marc didn't want to move, but there were practical matters to attend to. He did so as efficiently as he could - warning her with a "Just a sec" so she knew he wasn't going anywhere. He certainly wasn't going further from Harley than he had to.

Once done he settled down beside her, putting his arm around her waist, if she had no problem with that.

Harley had such few problems with it that she responded by shifting onto her side so she could face him.

And draped her leg over his. See? No problem.

"You're really something, Marc," she murmured, still a little soft in her afterglow.

Marc pulled her closer. Nothing strong. Just encouraging her to settle in where they could both enjoy plenty of skin to skin contact.

"You're unexpected, Doc," he replied. Not the most articulate of compliments, but blood flow wasn't fully back to his brain yet.

"Surprising?" Harley teased, settling down with her head pillowed on her arm. "You've said."

"Like you're not proud of it," Marc replied. He moved the hand resting on her side towards her back. His fingers traced idle patterns there, mostly unconsciously.

Harley looked smug again, but it had a languid, content quality about it. "I can be proud," she replied, "and point out when you say it again. Actually, those two things go great together!"

A thoughtful pause, and her smile grew wider.

"Like you and me just now!"

Marc thought about making an understatement of a joke, like Wasn't too bad, I guess. But it was nice seeing Harley be so cheerful. He didn't want to risk ruining it by potentially hitting one of her vulnerable spots.

So instead he went with, "Better than I expected."

Harley still snorted, but it was soft and easy. "You expected worse?"

Oh, like it hadn't wildly exceeded her expectations.

"Like it's my fault you're hotter than I imagined," Marc replied. "Not like I'm complaining."

Plus now he had all new mental images to enjoy.

"Well, anything to help that poor imagination of yours along," Harley told him, amused, tapping a few fingertips against his chest. "And no complaints, either." Just so that was clear! "Even about the imagination. Ooh, or what this did to mine."

Marc smirked. "Glad I could help. Maybe you can tell me about it sometime."

Not this second though. A guy needed to recover.

"Oh, look at you bein' all patient."

She knew it wasn't about patience.

"I figured give you time to actually come up with something," Marc said.

Of course then he realized with Harley maybe she'd already thought of plenty of things. Her mind wasn't exactly slow.

Yeah:

"Why would I need time?" came out of Harley's mouth, sincere in its confusion.

Even though Marc expected it, it still got a laugh out of him.

"Guess I gotta try harder to distract you next time."

Harley was visibly torn, in response. Not like it was a serious matter, but still!

"Do I tell you that's impossible," she wondered, "or that yes, you absolutely should try? 'Cause one of those options is kind to you, but the other sounds intense."

And, well, he'd already seen how she did with intense.

"Impossible means try harder," Marc said. "So both."

"That's not what impossible means," Harley retorted, taking the excuse to poke him in the chest. Which may have just been yet more muscle appreciation than anything else. "But I like the sound of tryin' harder. There's not even a Harley-shaped crater in this bed yet or anything!"

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