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 Posted: Sat Jun 07, 2014 5:27 am
"I always worry," Noah said in a small voice. "About everything. I can't help that. It's just, it's just a thing." His arms tightened around Peyton for a moment. Then, daring, he slipped one hand under the hem of her shirt, resting his palm on the soft skin of the small of her back. His eyes asked without words if that was okay. He thought it would be, it probably would be, but still he watched, making sure. He rested his cheek against the top of her head as she curled up against him, tucked her head into the crook of his neck. It felt natural, comfortable, good. She smelled nice, sweet, with the drowsy indefinable edge that said she'd been asleep before she'd come here. Probably she'd had a nightmare. He understood nightmares. Even if they weren't real, even if they couldn't touch you, they lingered and hurt. That was real enough. "I really like you too," he answered, and thought about how weird it was that like could cover such a wide range of feelings and be so unspecific but very specific all at once. He felt like there should be a word for this, the feeling that he was having at this moment, warm and gentle and nice, but he didn't know one. Like would have to do.
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Posted: Sat Jun 07, 2014 11:22 am
Tanned skin ran with goosebumps as Noah's fingers slid beneath the hem of her shirt to rest against the small of her back. It made her shiver, but she pressed closer to him, lips moving against the warmth of his throat as she smiled. Her own small hands slipped between them, and she'd follow his lead. Delicate fingers tracing along the top of his jeans, just beneath the hem of his t-shirt, until palms could smooth along his back. Nails gliding ever so softly against his skin in slow circles. She hadn't slept, but she was tired, down to her core. An exhaustion she could feel in her bones. It was creeping over her, slowing her breathing, making her movements languid and lethargic. She was so comfortable resting against him, breathing him in the soft scent of his skin. Again she smiled as he echoed her, and a soft kiss found his pulse, lingering. The tips of her fingers met at his spine, and she traced that line up towards his shoulders, the bottom of his shirt gathering against her rising arms.
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Posted: Sat Jun 07, 2014 4:43 pm
Half-awake and tired, but unwilling to be sleepy, Noah followed Pey's lead, rubbing gentle circles into her back as she did the same to him, fingertips finding the curve of her spine, delicate and hesitant. Wishing, wanting, holding back and unready. He nuzzled the top of her head, breathing the scent of her hair. She would tell him to stop if she wasn't okay with anything. She'd said so. He trusted her. He drew back, just a little, his hold loosening; he freed one arm, took hold of the hem of his shirt. He hesitated, looked at her, then pulled the shirt up and off, nervous and holding his breath. He wasn't ripped like some guys, had some softness around his hips and belly, wasn't pudgy but had little muscle definition. He hadn't ever really shown anyone, and he didn't know quite how to feel about it; he waited for her cue, one hand light and tentative on her back still.
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Posted: Sat Jun 07, 2014 5:15 pm
Cautions fingers at her spine had her arching her back, encouraging those soft touches as she drew her head back from his shoulder so she could lay a kiss on his chin with a tip of her head. Lips splitting in a soft, sleepy grin that faltered just a touch as he reached down to catch the hem of his shirt where it had raised with her arms so he could draw it over his head. Color crept up her cheeks then, a warm flush that made the freckles stand out along the bridge of her nose. Of course she paused, frozen in place for a handful of seconds, but not with nervous tension. Pale eyes searched that handsome face, those clover green eyes. Waiting, patient, until his hands returned to the warmth of her back beneath the bottom edge of her shirt. A brush of her brow against his cheek, nuzzling his jaw. A wordless gesture of gratitude, and appreciation. As lightly as his own she'd replace nails against the skin of his back, and without the shirt to get in her way, she could sweep that tickling brush up and over his shoulders in an exaggerated curve that touched the tops of his biceps before sliding down again towards his hips. There she let fingers smooth along his skin, hands slipping forward, so palms were a gentle weight at his stomach, up along his ribs. He didn't have to be muscle bond to be handsome. There was more to attraction than that. Without letting her hands leave his skin, she rocked back on his thighs to unfold legs so she could wrap them loosely around his waist. More comfortable, more intimate, just closer. If she'd been wearing anything under the camisole that covered her upper body she'd have been tempted to follow his example, but she was not, and it wasn't the right time to take things quite that far. This was nice, this felt amazing, they didn't have to rush. They didn't want to. Her cheek smoothed over his jaw, and she turned her head, lay the warmth of her mouth against that hard line, lips parting enough to taste his skin. Exploring, not to tease or taunt, but because she could, because he was her's, and she was his, and that at least, felt just fine right now.
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