Needful Things Building; Monday Afternoon

[totalwildcard]

Harley was having a quiet day in.

... What? It happened! It was allowed! Even the most high energy rogues had to take days off sometimes. There was a marathon of some awful reality show on the TV - oh, also, she had a TV now, a vintage one with a great aesthetic and terrible reception! - and she had a comfy onesie on and a takeout order on the way.

What more could a girl need?

(for one!)

Comments

[totalwildcard]

"Mis-ter," Harley replied, jabbing him in the shoulder with her finger twice, once for each syllable. "And focus or you're gettin' nothing!"

Neither a credible nor a serious threat in the slightest.

Also hilarious, since... Harley.

[hasaknightjob]

"Looking right atcha," Marc pointed out.

Which he was. Kind of warmly. Not entirely about heat either.

[totalwildcard]

"Oh, I of all people know that doesn't mean shit for focus," Harley replied, with a little snort. Still, she stole a quick kiss, then pushed herself a little more upright, sitting up to straddle him. That a lot of her weight landed squarely onto his hips was no accident.

"Right, what're we gonna do with you...?"

The big thinky face made it a rhetorical question.

[hasaknightjob]

Marc put his hands on her hips and just watched her. His eyes went half lidded at the nice pressure she was adding to the situation. But far be it for him to interrupt otherwise. The view was nice no matter what.

[totalwildcard]

The faint, gentle rocking was definitely just to help Harley think, too.

She ran her fingers up and down his arms, too, but that part was just for her.

[hasaknightjob]

Marc kept watching her, enjoying that on and off pressure she was doing. Also the contrast of her baring what evidence there was of what just happened - literally baring in the case of her chest - and the onesie.

It felt her somehow.

[totalwildcard]

It was extremely Harley to not worry about such petty details. At least when she had something else to be focusing on.

Like keeping up that rocking, and smirking down at him, idly scratching the nails on one hand down the exposed parts of his stomach.

"Hmmh," she hummed, in an exaggerated show of thoughtfulness. "So what've I got here? A strapping specimen of a man, half-dressed - and testing the structural integrity of the front of his pants, by the feel of it."

[hasaknightjob]

"Strapping, huh?" Marc asked. It wasn't that specific word per se, more he was never sure what was going to come his way as a compliment. From her or anyone.

[totalwildcard]

"Strapping, yeah!" Harley confirmed readily. "And don't you worry, I'm not expectin' ya to agree with me on it."

[hasaknightjob]

"Dunno if I've ever been called that before," Marc said. Of course it was debatable if he'd bother to remember if he had been.

[totalwildcard]

"Would you remember?" Harley retorted, because yeah. She leaned forward a little, running her hands up to his chest. "Or would it just go in one ear an' out the other, because it doesn't really matter to ya?"

[hasaknightjob]

"Hum?" Marc replied, deliberately doing an imitation of something going in one ear and out the other.

Hilarious to him, really.

[totalwildcard]

It got Harley flicking her nails against one of his nipples. What horrible punishment, truly.

"Ha, ha," she said, rolling her eyes.

[hasaknightjob]

"Made you laugh," Marc replied. He was even taking sarcastic laughter as a win.

[totalwildcard]

"I don't think you know how laughs work," Harley informed him primly.

Or at least as primly as she knew how to.

Which was not very.

[hasaknightjob]

"This can't be the first time you've noticed that," Marc said with a smirk.

[totalwildcard]

"Won't be the last, either," Harley retorted.

And gave his nipple a light, experimental little tweak. More as distraction than anything, because she was great at being distracting!

[hasaknightjob]

Marc had to nod since, yanno, fair. In the meanwhile he moved his hands up on her hips, shifting under her in a way that purely coincidentally got more rocking between them.

[totalwildcard]

Coincidentally, Harley's little forward lean was great for reciprocating that, especially once she settled one hand against his chest for balance.

"So I'm thinkin' I've got some options..."

[hasaknightjob]

Marc moved with her. To help her with her balance, of course.

"I'm listening."

Insert your own joke here about what a rare event that was for him.

[totalwildcard]

His moving was not helping with her balance. Other things, though, maybe.

He should definitely keep at it!

"There's a good old-fashioned blowie, of course," Harley said, mock thoughtful in her tone, head tilted, gaze cast off to one side, the works. "That one's always a crowd-pleaser." He was the crowd, clearly. (No, not like that.) "Or a nice hand job! Got some good new lube for a smooth ride. Or, there's always the combo deal, a li'l bit of Rosie Palms, a li'l bit of rosy lips..."

And no, that wasn't all, she could keep going. Just pausing for a thoughtful sigh.

[hasaknightjob]

It wasn't like the movement was doing bad things for Marc either, so it was fine all around.

He watched her show of thoughtfulness. "This how you were when you were doing your... doctor, thing?"

He meant earning the degree. He didn't know the details.

[totalwildcard]

Harley's movement stopped, immediately. Her head tilted in a genuine show of confusion.

"What?"

He probably didn't mean it the way her immediate kneejerk instinct took it.

[hasaknightjob]

"Proving you'd earned it," Marc explained. "The degree."

It made sense in his head. But that in and of itself meant a high likelihood it didn't make sense to anyone else.

[totalwildcard]

Yeah, not so much!

"... What?" Harley said. Again. "What're you sayin'? About proving myself? For my degree?"