song_tra_bong | (no subject)

Entry tags:

oom,
ruin

(no subject)

Mary Anne hadn't spent much time at home in Greece, but after last night, she decided it was overdue.

As it happens, she's spent her first full day cleaning, top to bottom. All the windows are open, letting in a glorious cross-breeze and carrying out the last, lingering smells of cleaning supplies. She pulls the bandanna down from over her hair and leans against the windowsill, looking out toward the sea.

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"I want there to be an us," she begins softly.

"I don't want to hurt you, but I think I am and that I will again. I want to make it work--if that's the right word--but even with all the good intentions I have, it won't be easy, because we aren't easy people."

Ruin leans against the wall, settling her comfortably against him.

"You fucking other people doesn't hurt me, Legs. You loving other people doesn't much ruffle my feathers, either." After all, they had established such rules in the church days after they'd married. "What's twisting my nut is, whether you come back to me at the end of the day because you want or because you think you have to."

She fits her legs around and between his, like pieces of a puzzle.

"You of all people know something about my twisted sense of duty...but it's never been at the expense of my own happiness."

(but sometimes at others, as a medic from Tra Bong will attest)

"I'm here because I want to be here. Because I know that you love me and that is always going to bring me back."

A smug smile quirks his lips.

"Don't you ever tell him what he said had me worried. I might have to spank you then."

She laughs.

"You'd spank me anyway."

"You know me so well."

He leans in, as if to kiss her, but stopped just before their lips touch.

"I was only somewhat worried I might have to fight him for ya," he whispers.

She smiles faintly.

"You'll fight with me and you'll fight alongside me, but you'll never have to fight for me.

I'm yours."

Ruin feels an odd sense of relief.

"Good."

He covers her mouth with his, groping her ass as he slid his tongue between her lips.

Mary Anne hums her agreement into the kiss, pressing herself closer against him.

"Don't think I could ever tire of this," he murmurs between kisses. "Always did like the feel of you."

He punctuates his words by another firm squeeze of her backside.

She laughs, nipping at the side of his throat.

"Good thing, too, since we're going to be stuck with each other for a while."

"Mmm. Now, the question is do I pin you to the wall or do I try to be a romantic gentleman and take you upstairs to the bedroom?" His hands slide under her shirt, his nails scratching over her back.

His touch skims the sword and she shivers.

"I...want to say both, but that isn't physically possible."

"Well." His finger rides up her spine, tugs at the shirt. "I could shove you to the wall, and the take you up to bed." He nips at her lower lip. "Never said I had only one round in me, Legs."

Another laugh.

"Believe me, I know all about your stamina."

He grins.

"I also know all about yours."

Ruin swaps their positions, pressing her to the wall as he bites and sucks at her throat.

"Just didn't want you to think I'd gone soft already."

"Soft--"

She gasps.

"--is...not a word I associate with you."

"Suppose you're right, Legs."

He rubs himself against her, making her... point.

"God, you feel good." He bites a little hard. "Taste good."

"Mhmm."

Her teeth scrape just below his ear.

"Missed you."

His fingers curl around the hem of her shirt.

"Missed you, too,," he breathes against the bruise he's working on making. He leans back enough to pull her shirt up over her head and toss it aside, his arms immediately encircling her waist and pulling her flush against him again.

Turn about being fair play, she pulls back just far enough to work on getting rid of his shirt, nails skimming his his sides as she goes.

He hisses, a faint smirk on his face when the shirt hits the floor. Ruin leans over enough to draw his tongue over the scar of his name, his own nail digging into her hips as he moves against her.

She lets her head fall back, humming, while she hooks a leg tighter around his.

His hands pull down the straps of her bra as his lips follow the line of her cleavage.

"Mmm. So sexy. Sweat, musk, and Pine-Sol," he teases, dragging his teeth over her skin.

"Don't forget the Windex," she says, the words a gasp tinged with laughter.