Somewhere on the Mainland; Sunday Early Evening

[totalwildcard]

You asked Harley, it was a pretty good Sunday, so far.

She'd started out her day with no plan, and yet by happy accident (and it was definitely an accident, and not someone somewhere making room in a shared schedule to facilitate things, or anything deliberate on the part of anyone directly involved!) she'd run into Marc, and that had sparked a simple and easy plan after all: to drive him to the mainland for dinner, at a restaurant she'd overheard someone talking about on one of her off-island jaunts earlier in the week. It was supposed to be a family-run, no-nonsense little Italian place, and exactly the sort of thing Harley was in the mood for, especially right now with the company she had.

So life was indeed pretty good!

And Harley's mood wasn't soured even by finding out there was actually no parking available right by the restaurant. After some searching, she'd managed to find a spot some blocks away - which was to say, she'd sniped it from right under someone's nose with a truly reckless move. Which had led to some blaring horns from other cars. Which was all good in Harley's book! She had more important things to be thinking about, anyway!

"And the tiramisu's supposed to be amazing," she was saying, as they got out of the car. "Like, 'someone's 97-year-old tiny little Italian grandma made it' kind of amazing. D'you think they'd let me order that for an app and not just dessert?"

(NFB for distance, for the one modded with permission + some NPCs)

Comments

[hasaknightjob]

"Don't mind where you are," Marc told her. A comment emphasized by how he was now moving to seek out more of that touch. Not rapidly or with force. More a compliment to what she was already doing.

[totalwildcard]

They could move together, her hand and his body. Harley always liked it when it got like that.

Felt like a connection.

"All over you," she said, a smug murmur.

[hasaknightjob]

Marc kept moving. An unconscious gesture but not one of denial about what was happening. More a trust she'd be right there with him, no thought or question needed.

"Don't hate that," Marc told her, meaning what she'd said, but it wasn't not about her hand either. "You wrapped around me. Even this angle."

[totalwildcard]

Oh, there it was again: trust.

"Every angle's got it's perks," Harley replied. The hand on his chest rubbed her thumb idly against his skin. Her other hand remained much less idle, offering just a little bit of precise pressure here and there now that he was moving. Letting him set the pace of his own enjoyment but still... offering more. "And this one? Doesn't let ya go off on tangents."

Hilarious, from her. But then she didn't really mean verbally.

[hasaknightjob]

"And our clothes are already off," Marc said. "Smart."

He kept moving with her, a slow dance that stoked the heat building at the base of his spine.

[totalwildcard]

"Yeah, see, I can be efficient, too!"

This counted, right?

[hasaknightjob]

"Just for me? Thanks," Marc said.

It was a joke of sorts. But as soon as he said it he realized how much she was doing for him. Had been doing since his freak out on the couch. She'd seen him like that and pivoted to all this, with only a token few jokes about how it was for her own benefit.

There was a lot to unpack there. Not the least of which was that it had started with Marc letting her see him like that in the first place. But for now -

For now he hugged her hand close to his chest and thought about how hard he was going to kiss her once he could.

[totalwildcard]

Harley didn't know he was thinking about all of that. And Harley certainly wasn't thinking about any of it herself. All of this was instinct, she would've said.

Just, without looking at the root of said instict.

"For you and me," she said, nuzzling at his neck a little for no reason at all. "Maybe? Because come to think of it, I do tend to reap some benefits whenever you forget clothes can and should come off..."

[hasaknightjob]

"Your fault," Marc said, tilting his head to give her more room. "You distract me."

[totalwildcard]

"Do I?" Harley asked, while claiming all he gave. With her face. "Or do ya just get distracted?"

Like both couldn't be true at the same time.

[hasaknightjob]

"Yeah, by you," Marc said. He tried to twist to see if he could kiss her. Maybe not the best position for it, but it was the principle of the thing.

[totalwildcard]

Probably wasn't going to be comfortable, or sustainable, but also when had Harley ever said no to a kiss from him?

She wasn't going to start now, in words or otherwise.

[hasaknightjob]

It was enough to be a promise for later. Which was what the look in Marc's eyes conveyed when he settled back down.

"See? Your fault."

[totalwildcard]

Harley snorted, softly. "Proves nothing."

Except her very occasional gifts of staying on-task. Her touch may have briefly eased while he was shifting in her arms, but it hadn't stopped.

[hasaknightjob]

"Proves everything," Marc replied. But he was being contrary. The distraction wasn't limited to wanting to kiss her, as her hand felt increasingly good.

[totalwildcard]

By design, too, now that Harley got properly back into it. No other goals but his pleasure, either.

"Uh huh," she replied, openly amused. "Whatever ya wanna tell yourself, sweetie."

[hasaknightjob]

Sitting back and letting himself be taken care of - for any value of taken care of - wasn't normally Marc's speed. But as she often did, Harley had slipped in past his defenses and found a way. And not just with the movement of her hand.

Her hand was getting more of his attention with every stroke, though. Marc rocked up into it. Not rough, more instinct as he sought out more.

[totalwildcard]

Harley had a hunch none of this was what he usually went for. Or maybe what he allowed himself? For her hedonist ass, of course, this was practically ordinary.

Except for the part where she chose to provide it all for someone else.

She made one of her little cooing noises, and responded with an attempt to give him more. A little more pressure, a little bit more of a gentle twist of her hand where he'd feel it most.

Just trying to encourage his instincts.

[hasaknightjob]

The cooing noise got a smile out of him and what might be called a friendly squeeze of her hand. He had a free hand so he moved that up to try to caress her cheek and neck. Not easy from this angle, but hopefully it was enough for the thought to count.

Otherwise Marc's attention was drawn lower. Some of his movement was on instinct, some purposefully seeking out more of her touch. There was a point where even he had a more difficult time denying himself.

[totalwildcard]

The trick was clearly in just... well, tricking him into getting to that point! And Harley was looking mighty pleased with herself for it, too.

She was also tipping her head right into his touch. See how helpful she could be? Even to acknowledge a caress and the thought behind it. And all the while, her hand was moving over him, around him, meeting his movements.

Rewarding them, really.

[hasaknightjob]

Almost as though Harley knew a thing or two about the power of positive reinforcement. It certainly seemed to be working with the way Marc's eyes drifted closed and he leaned back into her as though he trusted her to hold him.

(There was that word again.)

It also seemed like he was a little past talking the way he now made a soft grunt here and there as he kept moving with her hand, following her lead to get more of that contact which was having an increasingly clear effect on him.

[totalwildcard]

And as he leaned back, Harley's arm with her hand against his chest may have gotten a little more snug against his body. Instinct? Call it instinct.

(An instinct to hold him. But, shut up.)

"That's it," she purred, "I've gotcha."

In her arms, in her hand. Everything.

[hasaknightjob]

Marc wasn't going to examine the warmth he felt at Harley's words. Right now wasn't a moment for thinking, just feeling. So what if the idea that she had him in any capacity felt, yanno, not bad.

No, Marc was going to do away with thinking entirely. There wasn't anything but warmth inside and out, and Harley holding on to him, and the movement of her hand that was getting him so close now...

[totalwildcard]

"Just relax," Harley murmured - along with some other encouraging things where the words mattered less than the tone. And the tone said there was nothing to worry about, because nothing existed outside of this moment, and nothing mattered, either.

She just wanted him to feel good.

And she knew the signs, too. She could feel every movement he made, both against her body and in the circle of her hand. So she knew not to let up now, either, instead kicking everything up just a little. Another bit of encouragement. Positive reinforcement.

[hasaknightjob]

It was good. It was all good. For that moment in time Marc could let his thoughts go. Which wasn't unusual for him. Distancing himself from what was going on was kind of the whole deal with the way he'd evolved to handle things. But normally that meant everything, letting go by being gone.

Not this. Where the unpleasant could leave but he would still be there, awake, present, and feeling things that had nothing to do with pain.

(That it was someone else who was making that happen was - well that was a lot. That got filed with thoughts as a thing not being lingered on right now. The results of that attention were what mattered.)

Harley's murmurs and touch worked their magic, getting Marc closer and closer until finally he let go. Nothing loud or sharp. A grunt and a release and then a full body melting. An entirely different kind of bonelessness from earlier on the couch. Before it was the exhaustion of usingevery ounce of strength he had. Now it was not needing to be strong at all. Just being.