[026] OOM - There's no place like home

[tristranthorn]

His shoulder and arm are - thankfully - healed completely at this point. It has been many weeks, but the help of pain medication, good stress-free rest, and delicious food helped splendidly in his recovery.

However, the time to return to Faerie draws near. On the one hand, Tristran is quite glad of it. It is their home, after all, and he is looking forward to really starting...well, things with Yvaine. But on the other, there is the ever-looming realization that he will soon have to inherit an entire kingdom and the responsibility of it all is somewhat staggering.

His shoulder is still a little stiff from the lack of use, but at least he is now able to do things with both of his arms. It is a very good feeling.

He glances over at Yvaine.

Now it is simply a matter of bringing up the whole ... going home thing - if she doesn't bring it up first.

Comments

[an_evening_star]

She is.

Or, rather, she would be - if she wasn't working on maintaining a rather perfect state of sulking dejectedness.

... not that its perfection wasn't already marred by the rather obvious flush across her nose. (Darn being pale.)

The glare flickers upward, "But I was going to kiss you after."

[tristranthorn]

He grins.

"Well, you are welcome to kiss me now," he says innocently.

You know you want to.

[an_evening_star]

"I could," she agrees easily enough, fingers still curled around the edge of the bedside table - though the holding is a bit more forceful. "Might not be inclined to anymore."

It doesn't sounds half as convincing as she had intended.

[tristranthorn]

Tristran might pout at that - if he was the sort to do so.

As it is, he does move a little closer towards her, quickly closing whatever distance had been between them. There is a very light hum along his skin where he touches her.

"Perhaps I could change that," he suggests, then adds, "if I may."

[an_evening_star]

Oh, that's very nice.

Very unfair, but very nice.

The response is quiet - breath coming out in a rush and eyes closing, chin tilting upward unconsciously.

"Cheater."

[tristranthorn]

He takes the opportunity to kiss her, then - because that is what cheaters do. When they cheat and succeed, they get to collect their winnings.

Or, you know, kiss the girl.

"It seems I am," he says, solemnly. "Sorry."

[an_evening_star]

She hums, quietly appreciative, into the kiss and her fingers rise to the formerly flushed line of his cheeks - lingering there once she pulls back, blinking vaguely to regain her balance.

"I thought I was supposed to be apologizing," she murmurs absently. "Or was that before - why are we sorry again?"

[tristranthorn]

"Doesn't matter anymore, does it?"

His voice is hushed as he leans in once more, simply breaths against her lips before he kisses her again.

No, it certainly doesn't seem to matter at all.

[an_evening_star]

Wait - wait, should be ... something, yes?

She wrinkles her nose (being responsible sucks) and even as she sticks a quieting finger in the way, she's leaning forward - toward him.

"Supposed -" she manages, breath hitching and short against the back of her hand. "Supposed to be going somewhere."

[tristranthorn]

"Home," he says, grinning as he straightens. He can better speak to her like this, anyway (though he'd rather just do the whole kissing thing instead).

"I haven't forgotten. I simply thought we could do this first. The cleaning can wait a little."

[an_evening_star]

He makes a very compelling argument - a very compelling, intriguing, attractive argument.

(Slightly ruffled, even.)

She's up and after him before the sentence has very much of a chance to end at all - on her toes the best they can carry her and one set of fingers tangling tightly into his hair, while the other snags his shoulder for a possessive sort of leverage.

She cleaned an awful lot already. This is much nicer.

[tristranthorn]

His soft laugh is quickly muffled and cut off against her mouth as he catches her in his arms.

There are times when he is quite good at arguing - and winning those arguments. It's the whole reasonableness. (Really, he's got the makings of a great king.)

[an_evening_star]

Other arguments may have more evidence and a far more researched and thorough background for their cases, but he is extraordinarily reasonable - and warm, and hers.

(That part is pretty much all that matters.)

She grins against his lips, leaning with a great deal of care - he's still breakable - and laughs out a quiet, "Terrible distraction."

[tristranthorn]

He makes a sound against her lips, inaudible to be heard. Not like it really matters what he said anyway (and not like he can particularly remember anymore, either).

One hand is at her back, warm and strong, the other rests momentarily at her hip.

[an_evening_star]

Oh, well if he's going to be so attentive there's no reason to try and pay any proper attention to anything else - she's terribly willing to be distracted.

And not quite so quiet about it.

[tristranthorn]

Carefully, and slowly, Tristran begins to lead her back towards the bed, more or less still attached to her - no point in standing around when they can get far more comfortable.

He doesn't quite brush all their folded clothes away so much as he moves the two of them towards the part of the bed that is empty.

They could be here for a while more.

[an_evening_star]

The star lets herself be led backward until the edge of the mattress is at her back - she stumbles a bit and her leg buckles with a vaguely unpleasant twinge, fingers snagging his collar and tugging him after her.

Oh, yes. Leg. Forgot about that.

"Ow," she mumbles, lips twitching upward and eyes crinkling at the corners with a helpless sort of laugh. "Oops?"

[tristranthorn]

"Are you all right?" he asks, breaking apart for a moment.

He still looks a little breathless, but there is concern there, too.

[an_evening_star]

He looks rather entirely lovely, to be honest - she grins ( perhaps a s bit stupidly) and pushes the hair out of his eyes.

"Mmhmm," she affirms. "Forgot about the rest of me a bit."

[tristranthorn]

"Oh." He lets out a laugh. "Can't be doing that, now."

He pauses for a moment, looking especially thoughtful. "And which part did you forget?"

[an_evening_star]

She blinks, mildly stunned for a moment - now where did that come from? - before the grin widens a rather ridiculous amount.

"That depends on which parts you're interested in," she replies solemnly.

[tristranthorn]

"Well, what if I'm interested in all of you?" There's a bit of a glint in his eye.

"Like...your arms," he says, leaning down to kiss the length of them lightly. "Or your neck, perhaps." Kisses are placed there, too.

[an_evening_star]

Well. Well - oh.

Consider her irredeemably distracted.

"Remember those again," she manages, eyes closed and fingers tangling into the covers. (Forget that whole 'neatly made' nonsense.) "Very - helpful of you."

[tristranthorn]

He kisses her stomach, now - suddenly (and perhaps uncharacteristically) thinking that the fabric of her dress is a rather annoying thing. It is sort of getting in the way of...

"I'm glad," he says, innocently enough. "It wouldn't do to forget them, after all."

[an_evening_star]

"Not funny," she replies, very nearly stubborn once more, propped up on shaky elbows. This is Tristran we're talking about here - who abducted his morals? "You shouldn't -"

She sucks in a ragged breath and then shudders a startled, dazed laugh back out again - hands are, eyes are, lips are - and remembering to keep breathing is suddenly far more important than remembering which bits of her would very much like to demand attention next.

All of them, she would like to suggest. (She shivers instead.)

Horrid cheat.

"And if I forget my name?" she whispers, skin bright as she taps a pattern up the side of his neck. "Know how to get that one back?"