[Dan is about as conspicuous as an overly-irradiated ghoul in a dark tunnel, and Evelyn has always been the sort to bask in attention. What's genuinely refreshing is that he doesn't have the abrasive personality of most of the other people she gets stuck doing jobs with, when she gets stuck with them at all.
Reading him is only slightly more difficult, but there are some things you can't say subtly. Her gaze tracks off into the trees, across the fire, and she's strangely glad for the greenery, not simply because it means there are some places that have survived.
[The discomfort in his wounded shoulder is now little more than a dull throb backed by the ache of deep bruises. It doesn't impede his movement at all as he does exactly what she tells him to and moves closer.
He takes her hand first, and kisses the inside of her wrist. Her skin feels smooth against the rough stubble on his cheek, and he shoots her another cheeky smile.]
[It's oddly pleasing to watch him come closer, invading her space enough to take her hand and the contact is considerably more satisfying than patching up a wounded shoulder. Dan's blood is still under her nails but his mouth on her pulse is more than enough to distract her from the soreness in her muscles, something warm and electric coiling inside her.
Her fingers curl against his cheek and she smiles back, extending her bare arm fully with an expectant look. It's worth it to drag out what they can when they can, and with an actual wilderness instead of wide-open deserts it feels more like a collusion.]
I can't lie to you, sweetheart. Only most of the time for the past three days.
[At least the past three days. He hasn't been blind to the level of attractiveness of his travelling companion, but he tries to keep this kind of thing entirely professional.
He runs the back of his fingers idly up the exposed inside of her forearm, gripping her hand a little tighter in his as he scoots around the fire to sit by her.]
[There's something to be said about slim pickings in a world like theirs, living outside the confines of a vault where people are more likely to be eaten alive than shacking up, but on occasion there's somebody, on occasion they have the luxury.]
Oh, you're going to smooth-talk me now?
[Amused, a pleasant shiver rippling through her at the touch to her arm, Evelyn twines their fingers together and leans in that their shoulders (his, the unwounded one) might touch.]
I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it either.
Y' sound surprised. I thought it's what I was doin' the whole time.
[He might wonder, if she wasn't making it so clear that she didn't mind at all what he was doing. It was only a little lie - he hadn't been intentionally smooth-talking her, but he supposes that he hadn't really been able to help himself.]
But...
[Not too caught up in this to disregard safety. Not yet.]
[He's right and she hates curtailing impatience, especially when they've encountered a comparatively little amount of dangerous wildlife out here. Nothing has harmed yet except for the falling rocks. Evelyn worries her lip and her gaze tracks the horizon, catching a few out-of-place silhouettes.
They should settle in for the evening officially, particularly since this makeshift camp was just a stop to patch up his shoulder.]
...there's a Pre-War lookout. Probably an old station nearby.
[A beat.]
Let's get the gear, I don't want to be macking on you with a yao guai breathing down my neck.
[Even injured, he isn't off his game as far as scouting out the surrounding area is concerned. There aren't any people around, so far as he's able to tell, but there are a couple of out of place shapes glancing through the growing shadows that give him more than enough pause to consider them a possible danger.]
Think you're right.
[He winces as he moves, fixing his clothes and picking up his limited belongings (never happier that he chooses not to use a pack while he travels), but he straightens up with relative ease and carefully rolls his shoulder.]
Let the fire burn out on its own. Might keep anythin' off our backs for a bit.
[It's a quiet hum of agreement that they leave the fire to attract something else, and they part to gather their things. Evelyn hitches her pack over her shoulders and watches him test his bandages.]
Don't pop your stitches, [she reminds him, something small and affectionate in the way she briefly touches a knuckle to his bicep.] I don't have much thread left.
[Turning, she jerks her head in the direction of the lookout and sets off down the shallow slope, into the gulch she thinks might once have been a trail for park visitors.]
If your luck from the Strip holds out the station might even be abandoned.
[Testing the rotation of his arm is something better done now than later and god knows he doesn't want it to stiffen up on him. She'll probably notice him fidgeting with it more than once, but he's not so stupid that he'll tear it open.
Not that stupid.]
Let's not rely too much on my luck, huh? The Lady doesn't like to be taken advantage of.
[But he grins at her, falling into step behind and following her down into the gulch. Even so long after crowds of people would have passed this way, the plants still hadn't encroached back onto the middle of the trail.
Odd...]
Evie, keep an eye out. The local tribes use this route. Shouldn't be aggressive, but... take no chances, yeah?
[Evelyn grins back and takes the rambling path down, the only indication of his following being the occasional pebble kicked up to roll after her. The trail itself is clear - unusual, but not unheard of - so the suggestion that locals might still be actively using it stands to reason.]
Guess I should thank my stars I don't look as intimidating as you do, [comes the wry remark, and she wouldn't exactly be wrong. Dan looks a Hell of a lot more rode hard and put up wet, as they say, particularly with the bandage plastered to his shoulder and peeking out from the collar of his shirt. Aside from his blood still drying on her hands she could be a regular dame in a (more) regular town.
The dark silhouette of a Pre-War building creeps into sight. Not too long now, for a safer venue - nothing like four walls and a door you can barricade to make you feel at home.]
Intimidatin'. [He echoes, letting out a short, huffing kind of laugh. A pebble rolls under his foot and he catches himself quickly, giving the offending rock a swift kick off the side of the path.]
Is it the blood on my clothes, or the fact I ain't got a shave for the last six days?
[That was something he'd have to remedy.
When the building starts to come into view, he immediately has a weapon in his hands, idly checking it over as they approach. It could be empty. It could have a couple of tribals camping out in it - hopefully friendly ones. Or, there could be a yao guai using it as a den. You could just never know out in a place like this.]
[she laughs, because women typically see more blood than men on a monthly basis regardless. The red is nothing - if anything, it's a potent reminder that they're still alive, if only for the time being. Once, while digging through a pile of Pre-War books and papers, she found a leaflet that advertised life insurance.
What a funny concept.
Evelyn gently slides a fresh magasine into her handgun until she hears it catch with a muted click. Giving him a nod, she hangs back to take position.]
[He approaches the door quietly, briefly checks to make sure that Evie is close on his tail, then pushes the rusty old handle down.
The door swings open with the kind of creak that only two hundred years old hinges can make, and Dan winces. Waiting for them in the abandoned shack is... nothing.]
That was anticlimactic. [Dan mutters, stowing his weapon and striding into the cabin.] Looks like we're clear.
[It's a one-room floor plan, apparently, from a time when people lived less convoluted lives in less convoluted places. Evelyn is just relieved she won't be patching either of them up again in the near future and follows after him, shutting the door and bumping its creaky latch lock into place behind her.]
Good,
[she breathes, because it's nice to get a softball every now and again. Holstering her gun and shrugging off her pack Evelyn wanders the edge of the room and kicks the end of a tin can with her boot. It skitters across the floor and there's no chance of a fire in here - wood is too dry, and they'd go up in smoke. An old lamp in the corner might suffice, however, and she crouches in front of it, fiddling with its parts.
The thing is very old-fashioned in that what it takes is a shake to get the oil on the wick, before she lights it with a match. Evelyn grins at Dan over her shoulder.]
[He had been expecting to find something here, so the crash down from the pumping adrenaline of his anticipation is hard to distinguish from disappointment. Dan glances back at the sound of the closing door, then takes a moment of the silence and peace to really take in where they are.
An old ranger outpost, by the looks of it. There's a place for a fire, but the chimneys in this buildings are always blocked. Over the mantle, there's a picture in a frame, so faded that he can't make out exactly what it used to be. Time had robbed most of the furniture, though the heavy table and couch hadn't made it out of the door. A cabinet and a couple of locked file cases look as if they might have been propping up that corner of the roof.
Not bad, all in all.]
Just dust and sand. [Which he's glad of. Something catches his eye, then, and he clicks his tongue briefly against the roof of his mouth.] And the ranger.
[Dan leaves the dry skeleton of the two-hundred-years dead park ranger in the corner of the room and heads over to his companion, lightly moving a curl of hair off her shoulder.]
[There are worse places to bed down out here, and Evelyn isn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth when it comes in a reasonably enticing package. Some people don't have four walls to keep out the elements, let alone mole rats. She stands as he points out their host in the corner, casting a wry look at the remains that are more dust than man. With privacy intact the light touch to her hair - the curls which have woefully escaped her braid - is certainly not enough.]
Really? [She murmurs mischievously, amusement wrapped up in a smile.] In front of the ranger?
[Evelyn should be heartily commended for exercising both patience and restraint, neither of which she regularly employs and both of which abandon her now when steps in to slide her hands over his shoulders, careful of his stitches, to rest behind his neck.
She lifts her chin and the gesture is both challenge and invitation, fingertips tap-tap-tapping at Dan's nape before deciding she's done her fair share of split-second waiting. In one very swift, very decisive moment Evelyn cranes up to kiss him, pushing her fingers into his hair.]
Don't worry about him... [He breaks mid-sentence to kiss her, pushing the back of her jacket and shirt up just far enough to touch his fingertips to the warm skin under them. They might have to think about a fire later, when the sun went down and the nightly chill started to work its way through the walls, but it's not something to worry about right now.
Evelyn is soft and inviting and not much like other women he's kissed, but he can't recall a time he's wanted to kiss a woman quite this much. He breaks away to grin at her and gently pulls the tie out of her braid with one hand.]
This is the most action he's seen in years.
[Carefully securing the tie around his wrist he combs his fingers though her hair to loosen it, humming in quiet approval.]
[Arching against him with the barest touch to the small of her back she realises it has been far too long since she last acted on such impulse - a damned shame, when she has such an affinity for contact. When pickings are as slim as theirs it's rare to connect favourably.
Evelyn laughs and their breath mingles, fingers twisting in his hair as he releases hers to straighten it out some. The sensation makes her scalp prickle.]
Mmh. Don't want to disappoint him.
[Very much basking in this new admiration Evelyn doesn't dare interrupt, hands slipping down Dan's chest to curl a fresh grip around his belt. Evelyn allows herself few vanities out here, and this is one of them: with his contemplative examination of her curls she remarks,]
That an invitation? [Not that he doesn't appreciate it now. There's a certain lack of long hair styles out in the wastes and for very practical reasons, but it just makes it all the more novel.
It's with a strange kind of gentle care that he draws a few curls forwards over her shoulders, a faint smile on his face. Hell, she's pretty.
Later. Talking could be for later. Dan pulls her close and kisses her again, urgently, wrapping an arm around her to fit her body against his. His free hand slips up under the shoulder of her jacket, sliding it off.]
Y've been drivin' me crazy fer days... [He admits, half muffled against her lips while he runs one hand down her arm.] Y're one hell of a woman.
[For days is a considerable chunk of time out of their working week, for days suggests that he's held a tight rein on control and contact, both of which could probably stand to be loosened. Not unlike her jacket, in fact, one shoulder and sleeve shrugged off while callused fingers run rough over her skin and the touch is electrifying as she hastily worms her other arm free.]
Flatterer, [she chides breathlessly, soaking in the compliments as though they were a rare and unexpected bath. There's something so effortlessly guileless about the mouth on hers and the sentiments that fall to her lips, she can't be cynical about the source.
Fumbling over the buttons of Dan's shirt - given that it's his last one it would be a shame to tear it open just to spend a later hour searching for all the little pieces to stitch back into place - Evelyn rucks it up out of his trousers and uses the fabric as a lead. The path is short and satisfying as she soon manoeuvres them to the nearest solid, vertical surface, her back pressed to the wall as she grins shamelessly against his mouth.]
Tell me what you want. [Thinking about it for days, he's got ideas and she's keen to hear them out. Evelyn's teeth catch his lower lip and tug lightly.] Tell me.
[She's making clear enough what she wants and right now he's happy enough just to go along for the ride. He'd never claim to be so special that he was able to supply enough blood to his brain and his dick at the same time to keep both operating at optimum efficiency. That doesn't, though, mean that he's too far gone for some light teasing.
He works on her clothes while she fumbles at his, pressing her close against the first vertical surface they come into contact with. Well, nothing was going to be happening on that fleabitten old couch.
Murmuring, he presses his lips to her neck.] But I'm not gonna spill it all that easily.
[Crowded against the wall and very pleased with the direction this job of theirs has taken Evelyn manages to liberate the last of his buttons before shoving his shirt off of his shoulders. His skin is a battlefield, pocked with craters and gouges left over from wildlife and raiders alike, and one she explores with her fingertips as the collar of her vest is pulled aside.
Dan's mouth is hot on her throat and she sighs in relief, tipping her head back obligingly to offer easier access. A breathy laugh accompanies-]
Fuck you.
[-and Evelyn grins at the ceiling, working the buckle of his belt free.]
[He couldn't have predicted the way that the curse coming out of her mouth would turn him on even more than she'd already managed to do so. He couldn't have predicted how 'fuck you' suddenly became the two most beautiful words in the English language when they were said in her voice.
He marks her throat roughly, below the line of her collar so she can hide it later, then pulls back to look at her with a challenge in his eyes.]
We can talk about that later.
[It's a mischievous promise as he goes about revealing more skin from her waist up, touching as much of her as he can get his hands on.]
[Arching into Dan's mouth and already straining on the tips of her toes in too-worn boots, she hisses through her teeth as his own scrape red and purple under her collarbone. Fingers grappling at a stubborn strip of leather Evelyn tugs his belt free just as he looks up, something marvelously serious in his eyes at the suggestion.
She just might take him up on it.]
Don't tempt me-
[she breathes, pushing away from the wall long enough to assist him in the removal of her shirt. Evelyn isn't so marked as Dan, but the telltale signs of desert life are similarly written into her skin, criss-crossing white and pink streaks and gouges. The deepest runs horizontally, across her stomach, grazed by his touch as it greedily seeks new territory.
Taking a fistful of his hair Evelyn directs his lips back to hers, slipping her free hand down the front of his trousers.]
Wasn't makin' an idle suggestion. [He teases in a low voice, fingers lingering over the deep scar on her stomach even as hers find the waist of his trousers and slide past it. His hips shift forwards, a breathless laugh passing his lips.
Cheeky.
Thumbs smoothing across her hips he lifts her higher up the wall, enough that he can dip his head down to kiss the top of her breast before he's at her lips again, hips pressed to her hand, all but keeping her arm pinned between them.]
[Crushed between the wall and Dan is as favourable a position as she might have ever surmised when he grinds against her hand, on one of her thighs, a slow and steady roll for the heated mouth on hers. Evelyn could have foreseen the wisdom in removing her boots early on as they now present a problem: the idea of getting her legs around him is less likely when she hasn't the patience to undress and she responds to his statement with a frustrated sound.
(She shouldn't complain, not when her fingers are wrapped around his cock and his tongue is in her mouth, but venues for screwing out in the wastes are consistently disappointing and she'd give anything for a mattress that wasn't infested with bed bugs the size of her fist.)]
Help me-
[-get my trousers off, is what she wants to say, but instead she pulls one of Dan's hands toward her belt insistently.]
[He hasn't been travelling with Evelyn for long enough to know her well, but he's been travelling with her for long enough to know that she'll tell him just what she wants and doesn't want out of a situation like this (or any situation, in fact). Her hand is distracting, but he hasn't lost enough blood from his brain yet to not be able to understand exactly what she wants from him right now.
Fumbling at her belt, he unfastens it with one hand while the other gathers in her hair and draws it to a light tension against her scalp as they kiss. He pulls the belt free and drops it, thumbing the button and zipper down to push his hand in and cup against the warmth there.
Opportunities for comfort were scarce, but that didn't really stop anyone.]
[Something akin to a sigh of relief escapes her when he acquires a fistful of her hair, stretching her throat long like a column with just the right amount of strain to make nipping at his lips all the more challenging.]
Don't whine, it's- [Too hot and he's too close and her trousers he seems to manage without difficulty, Dan's hand a welcome thing that she eagerly pushes into as soon as contact is made.] -unbecoming. Shit.
[Senseless rubbing is all well and good when the occasion calls for it, and she isn't entirely sure whether or not his goal is something slow and steady or a little more frenetic, but she's impatient and it's been a while. Evelyn squeezes him gingerly, a gauge of how close he is to being ready, mumbling against his mouth:]
[How he takes his time is less an indicator of his own need and more a measure of just how quickly she wants to take it. He's never been overly rough with a woman - only as rough as they want it - and a week of walking has done next to nothing in the direction of informing him exactly how Evie likes to be fucked.
Dead-eye shot and wry humour aside, one thing he is certainly good at is taking direction where it becomes necessary. He smirks against the press of her mouth on his and there's little ceremony given to the retrieval of his hand so he can shove his trousers down just enough.
No need to ask if she's ready. Evie gets exactly what she wants.]
Opportunities like this are so hard to come by when the person you're traveling with could have their life cut short in the next twelve hours, let alone the next week, and she can't afford to be leisurely unless she's got a safe house and several days' worth of food to exploit just to waste a week fucking. With him, she thinks it might be a valid use of their stores and efforts, but it's been too long since Evelyn's last and she feels like her skin is burning under his hands.
The only downside to being this eager is recognising that she can't get her boots off in time, and so she tears away from his mouth long enough to turn and face the wall, temple pressed against cracking plaster. Dan's belt clinks and she knows he's ready, wrestling her own trousers off her hips with the distracting press of his chest at her back.
Blowing a curl out of her eyes, she glances over her shoulder at him, dark and wanting.]
[She doesn't need to tell him twice. He slides a hand up her back, lingering between her shoulders as he pushes her down, just a little, against the wall with his other hand on his cock to guide it in. The one problem here is that he doesn't have the presence of mind to get his own trousers off, let alone hers, but she's seen to that quite handily already.
The press of his chest against her back is quickly replaced by the press of his hips against her backside, no time wasted in moving fully inside her.
One hand to steady her hips, the other goes into her hair and grips a handful of it. She isn't a delicate thing, she doesn't need him to be gentle with her.
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uncalendula) wrote2016-04-07 07:22 pm
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Reading him is only slightly more difficult, but there are some things you can't say subtly. Her gaze tracks off into the trees, across the fire, and she's strangely glad for the greenery, not simply because it means there are some places that have survived.
Evelyn inhales slowly and looks at him again.]
...c'mere.
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[The discomfort in his wounded shoulder is now little more than a dull throb backed by the ache of deep bruises. It doesn't impede his movement at all as he does exactly what she tells him to and moves closer.
He takes her hand first, and kisses the inside of her wrist. Her skin feels smooth against the rough stubble on his cheek, and he shoots her another cheeky smile.]
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Her fingers curl against his cheek and she smiles back, extending her bare arm fully with an expectant look. It's worth it to drag out what they can when they can, and with an actual wilderness instead of wide-open deserts it feels more like a collusion.]
Been thinking about it long, have you?
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[At least the past three days. He hasn't been blind to the level of attractiveness of his travelling companion, but he tries to keep this kind of thing entirely professional.
He runs the back of his fingers idly up the exposed inside of her forearm, gripping her hand a little tighter in his as he scoots around the fire to sit by her.]
You make it real difficult not to.
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Oh, you're going to smooth-talk me now?
[Amused, a pleasant shiver rippling through her at the touch to her arm, Evelyn twines their fingers together and leans in that their shoulders (his, the unwounded one) might touch.]
I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it either.
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[He might wonder, if she wasn't making it so clear that she didn't mind at all what he was doing. It was only a little lie - he hadn't been intentionally smooth-talking her, but he supposes that he hadn't really been able to help himself.]
But...
[Not too caught up in this to disregard safety. Not yet.]
It's still not feelin' too safe out here.
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They should settle in for the evening officially, particularly since this makeshift camp was just a stop to patch up his shoulder.]
...there's a Pre-War lookout. Probably an old station nearby.
[A beat.]
Let's get the gear, I don't want to be macking on you with a yao guai breathing down my neck.
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Think you're right.
[He winces as he moves, fixing his clothes and picking up his limited belongings (never happier that he chooses not to use a pack while he travels), but he straightens up with relative ease and carefully rolls his shoulder.]
Let the fire burn out on its own. Might keep anythin' off our backs for a bit.
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[It's a quiet hum of agreement that they leave the fire to attract something else, and they part to gather their things. Evelyn hitches her pack over her shoulders and watches him test his bandages.]
Don't pop your stitches, [she reminds him, something small and affectionate in the way she briefly touches a knuckle to his bicep.] I don't have much thread left.
[Turning, she jerks her head in the direction of the lookout and sets off down the shallow slope, into the gulch she thinks might once have been a trail for park visitors.]
If your luck from the Strip holds out the station might even be abandoned.
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[Testing the rotation of his arm is something better done now than later and god knows he doesn't want it to stiffen up on him. She'll probably notice him fidgeting with it more than once, but he's not so stupid that he'll tear it open.
Not that stupid.]
Let's not rely too much on my luck, huh? The Lady doesn't like to be taken advantage of.
[But he grins at her, falling into step behind and following her down into the gulch. Even so long after crowds of people would have passed this way, the plants still hadn't encroached back onto the middle of the trail.
Odd...]
Evie, keep an eye out. The local tribes use this route. Shouldn't be aggressive, but... take no chances, yeah?
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[Evelyn grins back and takes the rambling path down, the only indication of his following being the occasional pebble kicked up to roll after her. The trail itself is clear - unusual, but not unheard of - so the suggestion that locals might still be actively using it stands to reason.]
Guess I should thank my stars I don't look as intimidating as you do, [comes the wry remark, and she wouldn't exactly be wrong. Dan looks a Hell of a lot more rode hard and put up wet, as they say, particularly with the bandage plastered to his shoulder and peeking out from the collar of his shirt. Aside from his blood still drying on her hands she could be a regular dame in a (more) regular town.
The dark silhouette of a Pre-War building creeps into sight. Not too long now, for a safer venue - nothing like four walls and a door you can barricade to make you feel at home.]
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Is it the blood on my clothes, or the fact I ain't got a shave for the last six days?
[That was something he'd have to remedy.
When the building starts to come into view, he immediately has a weapon in his hands, idly checking it over as they approach. It could be empty. It could have a couple of tribals camping out in it - hopefully friendly ones. Or, there could be a yao guai using it as a den. You could just never know out in a place like this.]
I'll go in first. You got my back?
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[she laughs, because women typically see more blood than men on a monthly basis regardless. The red is nothing - if anything, it's a potent reminder that they're still alive, if only for the time being. Once, while digging through a pile of Pre-War books and papers, she found a leaflet that advertised life insurance.
What a funny concept.
Evelyn gently slides a fresh magasine into her handgun until she hears it catch with a muted click. Giving him a nod, she hangs back to take position.]
I'm on your six.
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[He approaches the door quietly, briefly checks to make sure that Evie is close on his tail, then pushes the rusty old handle down.
The door swings open with the kind of creak that only two hundred years old hinges can make, and Dan winces. Waiting for them in the abandoned shack is... nothing.]
That was anticlimactic. [Dan mutters, stowing his weapon and striding into the cabin.] Looks like we're clear.
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Good,
[she breathes, because it's nice to get a softball every now and again. Holstering her gun and shrugging off her pack Evelyn wanders the edge of the room and kicks the end of a tin can with her boot. It skitters across the floor and there's no chance of a fire in here - wood is too dry, and they'd go up in smoke. An old lamp in the corner might suffice, however, and she crouches in front of it, fiddling with its parts.
The thing is very old-fashioned in that what it takes is a shake to get the oil on the wick, before she lights it with a match. Evelyn grins at Dan over her shoulder.]
Find anything?
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An old ranger outpost, by the looks of it. There's a place for a fire, but the chimneys in this buildings are always blocked. Over the mantle, there's a picture in a frame, so faded that he can't make out exactly what it used to be. Time had robbed most of the furniture, though the heavy table and couch hadn't made it out of the door. A cabinet and a couple of locked file cases look as if they might have been propping up that corner of the roof.
Not bad, all in all.]
Just dust and sand. [Which he's glad of. Something catches his eye, then, and he clicks his tongue briefly against the roof of his mouth.] And the ranger.
[Dan leaves the dry skeleton of the two-hundred-years dead park ranger in the corner of the room and heads over to his companion, lightly moving a curl of hair off her shoulder.]
I think we were in the middle of somethin'.
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Really? [She murmurs mischievously, amusement wrapped up in a smile.] In front of the ranger?
[Evelyn should be heartily commended for exercising both patience and restraint, neither of which she regularly employs and both of which abandon her now when steps in to slide her hands over his shoulders, careful of his stitches, to rest behind his neck.
She lifts her chin and the gesture is both challenge and invitation, fingertips tap-tap-tapping at Dan's nape before deciding she's done her fair share of split-second waiting. In one very swift, very decisive moment Evelyn cranes up to kiss him, pushing her fingers into his hair.]
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Evelyn is soft and inviting and not much like other women he's kissed, but he can't recall a time he's wanted to kiss a woman quite this much. He breaks away to grin at her and gently pulls the tie out of her braid with one hand.]
This is the most action he's seen in years.
[Carefully securing the tie around his wrist he combs his fingers though her hair to loosen it, humming in quiet approval.]
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Evelyn laughs and their breath mingles, fingers twisting in his hair as he releases hers to straighten it out some. The sensation makes her scalp prickle.]
Mmh. Don't want to disappoint him.
[Very much basking in this new admiration Evelyn doesn't dare interrupt, hands slipping down Dan's chest to curl a fresh grip around his belt. Evelyn allows herself few vanities out here, and this is one of them: with his contemplative examination of her curls she remarks,]
You should see it when it's clean.
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It's with a strange kind of gentle care that he draws a few curls forwards over her shoulders, a faint smile on his face. Hell, she's pretty.
Later. Talking could be for later. Dan pulls her close and kisses her again, urgently, wrapping an arm around her to fit her body against his. His free hand slips up under the shoulder of her jacket, sliding it off.]
Y've been drivin' me crazy fer days... [He admits, half muffled against her lips while he runs one hand down her arm.] Y're one hell of a woman.
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Flatterer, [she chides breathlessly, soaking in the compliments as though they were a rare and unexpected bath. There's something so effortlessly guileless about the mouth on hers and the sentiments that fall to her lips, she can't be cynical about the source.
Fumbling over the buttons of Dan's shirt - given that it's his last one it would be a shame to tear it open just to spend a later hour searching for all the little pieces to stitch back into place - Evelyn rucks it up out of his trousers and uses the fabric as a lead. The path is short and satisfying as she soon manoeuvres them to the nearest solid, vertical surface, her back pressed to the wall as she grins shamelessly against his mouth.]
Tell me what you want. [Thinking about it for days, he's got ideas and she's keen to hear them out. Evelyn's teeth catch his lower lip and tug lightly.] Tell me.
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[She's making clear enough what she wants and right now he's happy enough just to go along for the ride. He'd never claim to be so special that he was able to supply enough blood to his brain and his dick at the same time to keep both operating at optimum efficiency. That doesn't, though, mean that he's too far gone for some light teasing.
He works on her clothes while she fumbles at his, pressing her close against the first vertical surface they come into contact with. Well, nothing was going to be happening on that fleabitten old couch.
Murmuring, he presses his lips to her neck.] But I'm not gonna spill it all that easily.
[Teeth nip at her collar bone.]
Where's the fun in doin' that?
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Dan's mouth is hot on her throat and she sighs in relief, tipping her head back obligingly to offer easier access. A breathy laugh accompanies-]
Fuck you.
[-and Evelyn grins at the ceiling, working the buckle of his belt free.]
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He marks her throat roughly, below the line of her collar so she can hide it later, then pulls back to look at her with a challenge in his eyes.]
We can talk about that later.
[It's a mischievous promise as he goes about revealing more skin from her waist up, touching as much of her as he can get his hands on.]
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She just might take him up on it.]
Don't tempt me-
[she breathes, pushing away from the wall long enough to assist him in the removal of her shirt. Evelyn isn't so marked as Dan, but the telltale signs of desert life are similarly written into her skin, criss-crossing white and pink streaks and gouges. The deepest runs horizontally, across her stomach, grazed by his touch as it greedily seeks new territory.
Taking a fistful of his hair Evelyn directs his lips back to hers, slipping her free hand down the front of his trousers.]
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Cheeky.
Thumbs smoothing across her hips he lifts her higher up the wall, enough that he can dip his head down to kiss the top of her breast before he's at her lips again, hips pressed to her hand, all but keeping her arm pinned between them.]
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(She shouldn't complain, not when her fingers are wrapped around his cock and his tongue is in her mouth, but venues for screwing out in the wastes are consistently disappointing and she'd give anything for a mattress that wasn't infested with bed bugs the size of her fist.)]
Help me-
[-get my trousers off, is what she wants to say, but instead she pulls one of Dan's hands toward her belt insistently.]
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Fumbling at her belt, he unfastens it with one hand while the other gathers in her hair and draws it to a light tension against her scalp as they kiss. He pulls the belt free and drops it, thumbing the button and zipper down to push his hand in and cup against the warmth there.
Opportunities for comfort were scarce, but that didn't really stop anyone.]
Can't expect me t' do it all m'self...
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Don't whine, it's- [Too hot and he's too close and her trousers he seems to manage without difficulty, Dan's hand a welcome thing that she eagerly pushes into as soon as contact is made.] -unbecoming. Shit.
[Senseless rubbing is all well and good when the occasion calls for it, and she isn't entirely sure whether or not his goal is something slow and steady or a little more frenetic, but she's impatient and it's been a while. Evelyn squeezes him gingerly, a gauge of how close he is to being ready, mumbling against his mouth:]
I want you in me.
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[How he takes his time is less an indicator of his own need and more a measure of just how quickly she wants to take it. He's never been overly rough with a woman - only as rough as they want it - and a week of walking has done next to nothing in the direction of informing him exactly how Evie likes to be fucked.
Dead-eye shot and wry humour aside, one thing he is certainly good at is taking direction where it becomes necessary. He smirks against the press of her mouth on his and there's little ceremony given to the retrieval of his hand so he can shove his trousers down just enough.
No need to ask if she's ready. Evie gets exactly what she wants.]
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Opportunities like this are so hard to come by when the person you're traveling with could have their life cut short in the next twelve hours, let alone the next week, and she can't afford to be leisurely unless she's got a safe house and several days' worth of food to exploit just to waste a week fucking. With him, she thinks it might be a valid use of their stores and efforts, but it's been too long since Evelyn's last and she feels like her skin is burning under his hands.
The only downside to being this eager is recognising that she can't get her boots off in time, and so she tears away from his mouth long enough to turn and face the wall, temple pressed against cracking plaster. Dan's belt clinks and she knows he's ready, wrestling her own trousers off her hips with the distracting press of his chest at her back.
Blowing a curl out of her eyes, she glances over her shoulder at him, dark and wanting.]
C'mon.
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The press of his chest against her back is quickly replaced by the press of his hips against her backside, no time wasted in moving fully inside her.
One hand to steady her hips, the other goes into her hair and grips a handful of it. She isn't a delicate thing, she doesn't need him to be gentle with her.
So, he isn't.]