laaaa la bomba

[sputnik_shanu]

Maybe it is because Sikozu is tired in a way she has never been tired before - a soft, dulling burn all through her body, exhausted from the extreme expenditure of energy it took to irradiate the Scarrans in the heart of Katratzi, tired and yet buzzing with energy - but she doesn't feel like dancing and feinting anymore. She stares at Scorpius as he asks his question - more to fill the air and excuse him from meeting her eyes, she guesses, than out of a real deep desire to know the duration of a bioloid's full recovery period - and she is done. It doesn't matter anymore. And she can feel the ripple of an impending sea change, through him, through everyone on Moya, originating from the impossible blow a ridiculous group of fugitive misfits dealt to the most powerful empire in known space. The destruction of the mother plant and the exposure of her most closely guarded secrets make her fed up with being static, make her long for action. So she takes it.

He is looking away but she can tell he knows she's coming as she rises and crosses the room to where he stands at the bars of the converted cell, watching the shadows in the deserted hall. She can feel his tension, too, because they both know that this is a long time coming but perhaps he does not feel as prepared for it as she does. He doesn't resist when she stands close and turns his chin, exposed skin warm in a way she never quite expects, though admittedly her experience with his skin is naturally limited. Her movements are slow but without hesitation and at least part of him is swept up in it too because he bends to meet her height as she leans up on her toes to press her lips to his. Chaste at first, just a touch of her soft skin to the odd texture of his. Slow but deliberate, she turns her head, touches again, delicate and as yet undemanding. That he does not react at first doesn't deter her. She can't tell what he is thinking - truly his mind is the first real challenge the universe has posed her and the bare fact that she doesn't know what he is thinking as she kisses him fascinates her almost unbearably - but through half-lidded eyes she can see the concern building on his face. The same concern she has seen on him in glances and shades since she flared up like a sun in a field of flowers. Given the way he presents himself, the tension and the power play between them, between him and everyone he encounters, it is almost a wonder that his face can form an expression like that, but somehow it does and it makes something warm and low in her flutter and it makes her want him all the more. His depth, his complexity, his intelligence and determination. Like an animal he shies and tries to pull away and like a hunter she pursues, pulls him back and presses deeper, takes a taste of him to bait the hook and waits to feel the shift in him that will let her know that he has given up whatever scared him and let go to how much she knows he wants her.

Comments

[scorpy]

Her fingers encounter his, still residually cool from his glove but perceptibly dewy with evidence of her readiness, and Scorpius threads them together, his palm to the back of her hand as he guides her fingers against the catch under the edge at the codpiece. At the same time, his Scarran blood gives a throb of pained longing at the hot aura her hand brings with it through the broken seal. His emerging cock twitches with his heartbeat and curves heavily into the back of the displaced leather cup.

When he flicks his tongue off the knife edge of her incisor, Scorpius breaks from Sikozu's lips, mouth open, panting ever-so-slightly as he meets her eye to eye. He draws his palm back along her wrist delicately, tracing the webbing of flesh between her knuckles.

Words threaten, right at the tip of his tongue, but the moment has no use for language--only an animal understanding that passes back and forth between them with each breath.

[sputnik_shanu]

The humidity of exhalation between them is heavier than the unspoken words, the tacit communication of two extremely intelligent beings letting their bodies and gaze say everything that needs to be said. Her lips stay parted too after his are pulled away, breath passing between and over her bared teeth as he holds her eyes and lets his hand move up her wrist like a tingling electric charge against her skin. Her fingers immediately understand the mechanism his showed them, but they linger in the narrow gap, tracing the edge of the broken seal.

Mimicking the movement of his tongue, hers presses into the point of a fang as she tilts her head, coy and bright and burning still brighter orange than he will have ever seen her before. Her blood is hot, though not as hot as it would be if she wasn't controlling her temperature for his benefit. She slides her other hand down his body until it is a mirror image of it's mate, fingertips drifting over the edge of the codpiece pressed between her thighs. With the release for this side just a twitch away, she looks to him again, expression wicked with desire but prudent still, careful to be sure that he is ready to handle the next step now. Biting her lip teasingly, she waits for his allowance or his change of tack and prepared not to be disappointed with either.