(no subject)

[mycursedface]

Medusa, living as she does in a cave, is still not entirely used this whole having doors business. Nor is she used to knocking, but it wasn't all that long ago that she was living here, so she remembers to knock.

And hope that Sam's in.

And that he isn't...busy.

(she has the invitation in her hand)

Comments

[mycursedface]

"We talked," Medusa says, her hands coming up to catch his near her mouth, "about other things, too."

[necessary_child]

"Oh?" He gives her a bright look.

"What things?"

[mycursedface]

"Well, you don't have to worry about getting me pregnant for a while, for the main thing."

[necessary_child]

"I'm very careful I don't get women pregnant, actually."

[mycursedface]

"Yes, but given past experience I'm paranoid."

[necessary_child]

"I can't blame you." Sam kisses her hand. "But you don't need to be, promise."

Ewww, kids.

[mycursedface]

"Thank you," she says, pulling her now unlaced top away and letting it fall on the floor. "Very," she leans back down, "much," and she kisses him.

[necessary_child]

"Mmf," says Sam, eloquently.

Happily, actions speak louder than words. Especially these actions.

[mycursedface]

And today's a good day, and she's (rather obviously) in this kind of mood, so the feeling of his hands running her skin just makes her shiver and the snakes slide against each other.

"You're wearing," she says, between kisses, "too many clothes."

[necessary_child]

"I was just thinking the same thing," he manages. "Care to help?"

[mycursedface]

"I might be, uh, able to." She, reluctantly, pushes herself up again and shifts back.

"You, up."

[necessary_child]

"A redundant order if ever I heard one," Sam murmurs, nonetheless moving as requested.

[mycursedface]

She turns scarlet.

"I didn't mean, um, I mean, you're alread-I."

Right. Boyfriend's shirt is off and he is soundly kissed before he makes her turn any redder.

[necessary_child]

Sam kisses back, pulling her close and laughing under his breath.

[mycursedface]

"And you know," Medusa says, kissing his throat this time, and then his shoulder, "that isn't what I meant."

[necessary_child]

"Made you blush, though," Sam reminds her.

[mycursedface]

"That's not hard," she points out.

[necessary_child]

"But it is fun."

Cheeky grin.

[mycursedface]

"Humph," is her reply, even as she rests her forehead against his shoulder. Breathe in, breathe out, and she trails her fingertips along his bare back.

[necessary_child]

"T'you too," Sam smiles, and shivers at her fingers on his skin.

"Meda..."

[mycursedface]

"Ye-es?"

[necessary_child]

"Nothing," he murmurs, and kisses her again.

[mycursedface]

It's very hard to think and worry and remember (him) when Sam's kissing her. She really hopes he won't stop. So she trails her fingers across his back, traces out designs and runs and abstract patterns, perfectly content.

If he wants anything more, he's going to have to initiate it himself.

[necessary_child]

Sam has no plans to stop, as such. But he's still, when all is said and done, very much Sam.

So as Medusa's fingers trace patterns over his skin, his own clever fingers are running down her sides and around the waist of her skirt, tracing and tugging and teasing-- but just playing, for the moment.

[mycursedface]

She kisses his neck, her snakes sliding over his shoulder because they are that damn close. Her fingers glide down his spine and she pulls back, just enough to look at him with a question in her face.