Log: takeout appreciation night

[searchandrecovery]

Who: Agent Washington and Oquirrh
What: A date and some reveals
Where: Washington's old apartment, now a safehouse
When: Saturday evening, 5/30
Warnings: Secrets have been kept. Potential language or temper tantrums



Out of all the things Wash has cleaned lately, cleaning the old apartment in preparation for Takeout Appreciation Night has been Wash's favorite. It was the biggest job by far, but once the roaches were swept away, dust eliminated, and furniture arranged, the apartment looked almost cozy, if slightly bare. He was never in it long enough to do full-scale interior decorating.

After the cleaning was done, Wash went to get the takeout. This time, it was quasi-Chinese: several paper cartons of noodles, stir fried vegetables, and teriyaki chicken. It wasn't the most creative of takeouts, but it was safe, and he knew the food was good. After all, who doesn't like takeout Chinese?

Now, he's waiting. The couch is set (after all, takeout should always be eaten on a couch), movies are selected if necessary, and he's all showered and dressed and ready to start. And oh, is he ready to start.

Comments

[oquirrh_at_the_wheel]

She yields at first, melting into the kiss. No, that's wrong. She needs to kiss him back.

So she does, slow and eager against those soft lips.

[searchandrecovery]

He brings his hand up and laces his fingers through her hair, her beautiful hair. He keeps kissing her, less hesitant now, more sure of what he's doing. He's finding a groove, a passion.

[oquirrh_at_the_wheel]

She slips her arms around him, pulling him closer. He gets a rhythm pretty quickly and she does her best to match it. Those lips taste faintly of curry and chocolate, but mostly of something entirely new. She's going to enjoy kissing him and finding out his taste, his smell, his--well, his everything.

[searchandrecovery]

He can still taste the dynamite shrimp on her lips--it's the kind of spice that lingers. He pauses to take a breath, grins, and murmurs, "I could do this all night." He would, if she lets him.

[oquirrh_at_the_wheel]

"Can we?" she asks. She kisses him again, quick and soft and excited. "I'd like that."

[searchandrecovery]

"Excellent. I would, too."

He kisses her again, harder this time. He wants to immerse himself in Oquirrh--in her touch, her smell, her everything. She is his world.

[oquirrh_at_the_wheel]

She squeaks in surprise at his force but presses in, humming with satisfaction. This is an awful angle, though. She swings her legs up onto the couch across his lap. Much better.

[searchandrecovery]

Perfect. He continues to kiss her on the lips, then moves to explore the rest of her face. Her cheeks. Her ear. The nape of her neck. It's all so perfect.

[oquirrh_at_the_wheel]

She slips a hand into his hair, laughing. "I love you," she whispers. "So much."

[searchandrecovery]

"I love you too," he says, grinning from ear to ear. He never knew he could be this happy. "More than anything."

He said it. They said it. Love, love, love. It feels so good.

[oquirrh_at_the_wheel]

She smiles wide studies his eyes, the excitement and love in them. Smoothing a hand along the back of his head, she kisses him again.

[searchandrecovery]

He kisses back playfully, joyfully, rubbing his hand on her back in the rhythm of the kiss.

[oquirrh_at_the_wheel]

The hand at her back makes her hum and smile against his lips. She traces small circles in his hair with her fingertips, combing through it at the same pace. His wonderful smile and his wonderful hair, all hers now.

[searchandrecovery]

He lets out a little moan of contentment. Her touch is amazing, soothing and gentle, but creates a kind of spark in his heart, an electricity on his skin, that he's never felt before.

[oquirrh_at_the_wheel]

Laughing, she steals a quick kiss from his moaning lips. It's a new sound, and she wonders how else she could tease it from him.

Eventually, of course. Right now, she likes what they're doing and sees no reason to stop or change it up, not if he doesn't.

[searchandrecovery]

He's in seventh heaven. No--he's in fourteenth heaven. Or bajillionth heaven. The best heaven, whatever it is. He sees no reason to stop, or change it up. They'll have time for that. Right now, he likes the comfort, and the joy. He needed this. They both needed this.

He steals a kiss from her lips, then her forehead, then her cheek. Little pecks, like he's a small bird eating her up.

[oquirrh_at_the_wheel]

She keeps her eyes halfway open, waiting eagerly for each fluttering little kiss. When he circles back to her lips, she catches him gently for a kiss of her own.

[searchandrecovery]

"You got me," he giggles. "I'll have to up my game," he says, then gives her a full, long kiss on the lips.

[oquirrh_at_the_wheel]

Her returning laugh gives way to a low, satisfied noise against his lips. When they're done, she says, "I like my prize for catching you, though."

[searchandrecovery]

"There's more where that came from," he says, playing with her hair. He weaves it between his fingers, taking in the scent, the texture. It's soft, fresh, and his heart races just knowing that it might be his.

[oquirrh_at_the_wheel]

"But only if I win," she reminds him. She's glad she wore her hair down tonight. Wash states at it, fascinated, and those fingers toy with it in adoration. She sits still, relishing the touches in her hair.

[searchandrecovery]

"Very true," he laughs. "But what's my prize if I win?"

[oquirrh_at_the_wheel]

She initiates another long kiss, pressing eagerly into him. "Something like that, maybe?" She asks when she's done.

[searchandrecovery]

He grins. "If that's the prize, then you're going down," he teases. "Whatever the game. I Spy. Chutes and Ladders. Draw Whiskers on York When He Sleeps." He's a master at that last one. A regular black belt.

[oquirrh_at_the_wheel]

"I'm up for anything," she says, "but I thought this was the game." She kisses his cheek, his cheekbone, his temple, moving in a slow circle across his face.