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[thirtythird]

@ wlawford
room 023; bunk 025 (with loki odinson)
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[thirtythird]

Will you come collect me?

[ettersberg]

It would be my pleasure.

[thirtythird]

[Sounds very much like what the kids would call a date.]

I'll be waiting.

[ettersberg]

[ perhaps it is a date. thomas is not entirely certain throughout dinner that it is, but it's a pleasant affair one way or another, conversation easy between them. for all that they are from different times, they do share a similar background, a similar framework of reference.

and then he walks william back to his quarters as well because, well, he picked the man up and it only seems proper, doesn't it? and there's a smile and an invitation to come in and —

very well.

it is a date.

thomas finds himself smiling in return, ducking his head briefly. ]

I would like that.

[thirtythird]

[There's something incredibly reassuring about time together like this. As distant as their wars had been, there's something familiar and comforting and almost relaxing about sharing a meal like this.

Thomas puts him at ease--and thrills him. It's an unusual sensation, but one that very much bears dragging out a little longer when they've finally made their way back to his quarters.]

Better and better.

[A lovely evening in its own right, but lovelier still to be able to steal away in this good feeling a little bit linger. Lovelier to be able to catch delicate hold of the other man's chin when they're properly alone and offer a lingering kiss.]

[ettersberg]

[ this is not the first time they have kissed, but it almost feels that way for the plunging, swooping feeling in thomas's stomach, the surge of anticipation and adrenaline and hope that comes just before william's lips find his. it is the first time, he thinks, that they are not influenced by anything at all but their own desire, by good company and a wish to do this.

(he doesn't regret any of what happened on the planet, but he is self-aware enough to realise that something had affected him, made him quicker to act on desires that he might normally.)

some tension he hadn't realised he'd been holding eases from his shoulders as he leans into the kiss, lips pliant but not soft beneath william's. ]

[thirtythird]

[The rush of it all had been thrilling, the first time. The easy lingering now is thrilling as well, if a bit more like a gentle simmer.

William had, of course, fully intended to pour them a drink and keep the conversation flitting gently along. The joy of all this, after all, is how natural all the little things have been in their time together--easy conversation, easy silences... and, well, easy falling together like this.

Just a little longer pressing contentedly into the kiss. Just letting his fingers slide along Thomas's jaw to curl gently into the man's hair.]

[ettersberg]

[ they could return to their conversation, continue it. the kiss has not yet passed the point of no return, theirs is not a mad scramble toward completion. they could —but william's fingers slide against his jaw and curl in his hair and thomas finds himself making a soft noise and leaning deeper into the kiss, more than happy to do this instead.

it feels good. he cannot remember the last time he was kissed like this before this ship, before william and bucky and the last planet's peculiar effects. and, of course, now. ]

[thirtythird]

[This is a lovely place to linger. Pressing just slightly onto his toes and curling his fingers a tad tighter keeps him anchored in place, content to examine the sensation of kissing and being kissed.

The warm curl of a laugh pulls his lips back just slightly, body still stuck close and nose bumping into nose.]

Quite good at that.

[ettersberg]

Mh. [ the noise is a mindless hum more than anything else, something content and pleased at their proximity, that bump of william's nose against his.

after a beat: ] You are, yes.

[thirtythird]

Modest. [But very much deserving of another pleased little chuckle.] You'll find this very much takes two.

[A slight shift to nudge a kiss against Thomas's cheek before he finds the man's lips again with his own.]

[ettersberg]

[ thomas could protest, could respond —or he could let himself sink into the renewed kiss again and honestly, that is the clearly superior option. so his eyes slide closed and he sways into william's touch, into his space, setting a hand to his hip and curling it there. ]

[thirtythird]

[This is the absolute best sort of crowding--the simple growing sensation of being surrounded and entangled by a warm, contented feeling. This is lovely to simply melt into, fingers creeping up into the other man's hair again.

If this is the rest of their night? He'll be more than pleased about it.]

[ettersberg]

[ there's a feedback loop of contentness, warm and joyful, william's pleasure feeding into thomas's, stoking it, and so in return he thinks his pleasure must bleed into the empathy bond as well. they melt into one another, close and closer still with every shift of their bodies.

if this is the rest of their night, it will be wonderful. it could tip into something else, too, and thomas would not mind it at all, but for now, they balance on the cliff of proximity and comfort without tipping over. ]

[thirtythird]

[It's difficult to explain how lovely it is to be allowed this lingering time. There's no rush. There's no roughness at the edges, no nerves, no gasping through--there's just the simple contentment of lingering in intimacy.

It's very lovely, in the moment it feels natural and easy in his gut, to murmur into the kiss:] --stay tonight?

[ettersberg]

[ william asks him to stay and it feels like the most natural to hum his assent into the kiss, to linger there and curl his hands over william's back.

i could stay longer than that he thinks, without intent, the notion there and gone again and barely registered. it feels true for the moment, though.

eventually, after drawing back just a little: ] Gladly.

[thirtythird]

[Their fumbling on the planet had been absolutely wonderful. There's still something incredibly distinct about wining and dining, about clinging here deliriously, about an invitation and acceptance from slow curling desire rather than desperate want.

William practically purrs as he leans back into the kiss, fingers anchoring more firmly at the base of Thomas's neck to drag them both a few steps closer to the bed.]

[ettersberg]

[ william moves them toward the bed and thomas follows along all too willingly, something in his stomach clenching hot and tight with want, with --joy, too. there's joy in touching and in being touched, in knowing and being known by william, of finding someone who might fit like a puzzle piece.

thomas sighs into the kiss, deepening it in increments, letting his own hands wander and, eventually, pull william's shirt from his trousers until he can fit his fingertips against warm skin. ]

[thirtythird]

[Luxurious, to move slowly like this. Opulent, to take the time to simply enjoy the lips pressing against his and the warmth of skin teasing up against skin, of holding in place and being held in return.

The impulse to speak is irrepressible, but the soft little "darling" is lost in an entirely pleased sound immediately swallowed into the kiss. It sparks, for some reason, a happy little laugh, bubbling into soft reverberations between their bodies as Lawford shifts to begin helping divest of his own shirt properly.]

[ettersberg]

[ it does feel luxurious, like an indulgence, to go slow, to take their time, not to fumble but to move deliberately, with purpose and intention. (the fumbling on the planet had been intentional as well, of course, but in a very different way. it had been joyful, too, but in a different way. no less wonderful for it, but less languid than this.)

william laughs and thomas finds himself smiling in return, a small and soft thing, held safely between them, between their lips, before that, too, is lost in another kiss. between the two of them, it does not take long to divest william of his shirt and then thomas is free to explore naked skin, to let his fingers linger. ]

[thirtythird]

[There are other items to shed, of course, but William lets his fingers curl contentedly into Thomas's hair again instead, simply enjoying kissing and being kissed. The next shift is simply to tug them down onto the bed--to enjoy the warmth and weight of being pressed together, almost heedless of the continued restriction of their remaining clothes.

There's time. There's time to simply learn this piece of this man before leaning all the others.]

[ettersberg]

[ they tangle on the bed, curled together with their legs intertwining and william's fingers in his hair, their lips meeting again and again in a series of kisses, some lingering, some short. thomas finds himself dragging in a breath sharply at just the right pressure in the right spot, once or twice, but there's no urgency despite it, just this: kissing and being kissed, proximity, the back and forth of pleasure and certainty and comfort. ]

[thirtythird]

[Their accommodations here are wonderfully comfortable. The food is sating and the bits of work that keep the mind occupied are sufficient. But this? This is true luxury.

His movement in intimate moments has... decreased in elegance, perhaps, but there's something entirely comfortable all the same about squirming to tug them around and press the other man into the bed. It's a bit of a different leverage position, but hopefully the eagerness of his hand fumbling down into Thomas's trousers is enjoyable all the same.]

[ettersberg]

[ thomas nightingale, with his bespoke suits and handmade leather shoes and walking cane, his carefully parted hair and his posh manner of speaking, might seem like the kind of man who seeks elegance in all things —but the truth is that at the core of him, he cares for solidity and workmanship and things working, finds joy in rugby and a good boxing match, in magic and, yes, in this: in the meeting of two bodies, fumbling and eager and full of desire.

elegance doesn't need to factor into it.

(his own movements are more elegant, perhaps, but it is unthinking, not elegance for its own sake but the kind that comes from functionality and competence.)

william presses him into the bed and thomas goes all too willingly, pliant and feeling weightless with it, and then william's hand sinks into his trousers and thomas's shoulders come off the bed for a moment, breath punched from his lungs, a wordless ah and a verbalised please a moment later, his legs spreading even if it pulls his trousers taut. ]

[thirtythird]

[Wonderful. These little shivering moments, these delicious soft sounds, these familiar and brand new sensations are all entirely wonderful. More wonderful still that the fabrics and muscles and scents are all so distinctly Thomas.

The sounds on William's own lips are largely incoherent, more of a contented purring than actual words in the space between lingering kisses. The curl of his fingers around the other man isn't terribly urgent, pressure light and movement slowing toward something slightly lazy.

They've done frenzy. Now, perhaps, they can try savoring.]