(no subject)

[aimedforthemoon]

She leads Han from the bar up to her room, and open the door with a smile and a flourish of after you.

Her room is a normal, hotel-style room; plush carpet, plain curtains framing large windows, of which one is open. But it's very....neat. She's an astronaut, and they are always neat people, but it's still a little too neat. As if she's not planning on staying.

Her bed is made, her books and manuals either neatly stacked on her desk, or neatly against a wall.

In a slight divergence of the mood, though, she also has models on her desk; a MiG-21PF, a Soyuz rocket, and an RZ-1 A-wing.

Comments

[rebel-falcon.livejournal.com]

Heat coils in his chest when she makes the noise against his mouth, and he wraps his arms around her and stands (for all the bitching they do about the height difference, she's light enough for him to pick up without risk of dropping her) and backs his way to the bed.

One step, then another, and another.

(and he's still kissing her)

And then he sits, hands moving to her hips, pulling her closer.

[aimedforthemoon]

Her legs had hooked around his waist once she'd cleared the ground, one arm around his neck and she would comment that if he drops her

(anyone else, and she would have)

but he's there and fuck, fuck, fuck,

she's enjoying this far too much. And bed is...good. She thinks, even if it means having to shift her legs to kneel and...

Right.

Pants.

(Later)

[rebel-falcon.livejournal.com]

(Later.)

And she's there, her legs straddling his and her arm around his neck,

(she doesn't have to hold onto him but she is and he likes it)

and then he groans.

Bed is good. So is this.

so is she
she

[aimedforthemoon]

(You can claim your prize back on the cruiser)

She rocks her hips against him, hand across his shoulder even as she breaks off to kiss his jaw, his neck.

"I can't think when you do that."

[rebel-falcon.livejournal.com]

"Can't think when you do that," he parrots back, with a bit of a laugh before he shifts and leans back, his shoulders hitting the blankets as he tips his head to the side.

"Thankfully don't need to think," he adds.

His hands work at her waistband (really they need to be gone and they will be shortly) while she kisses him.

[aimedforthemoon]

She pulls back enough to grin at him, and then shifts down slightly, pushing herself up.

"Well, maybe a little," she says, her hands going up to pull the pins out of her braid. "Logistics."

(and even as she speaks, she twists her hips slightly - this way, then that way, and always watching his face)

[rebel-falcon.livejournal.com]

"True..."

The word dies in his throat as he tosses his head back against the mattress, groan catching in his throat when his lungs protest breathing for the moment.

or that or anything you do to me

(He'll react once he can think again, at least he hopes.)

[aimedforthemoon]

Esfir just watches him, expression more serene than anything else. Her braid falls heavy and thick against her back, staying in place even when she tugs off the hair-tie. That she wraps around the pins, and she leans forward to toss them onto her bedside table.

Arm braced against the bed for balance, her green eyes flick back to his face before she slowly straightens up. As she moves, she trails her fingers down his chest, following the line of hair down to his belt.

"I think we'll work something out."