Room 323 [Sunday, Afternoon]

[comeoutwrong]

With Christmas done and past, there didn't seem to be a hell of a lot going on around here, as far as she could tell. Few days until New Year's, and that trip, and a shitload of empty space to fill until then. Going out was her typical fallback at times like this, but you couldn't do that sort of thing all the time. Unfortunately. It would've been nice, having just one simple thing to think about. Never seemed to be the way things worked out, did it?

Spending her afternoon reading and idly blowing smoke rings out her window was a secondary option. She'd decided a long time ago that classic literature was more fun when there was alcohol or drugs involved. Pity that philosophy never got her by in classes.

[[and her door and this post are open. I have a day off and a bunch of free time to fill]]

Comments

[pastmewrong.livejournal.com]

"Just making sure you hadn't forgotten," she said, instictively pressing back against his hand. "Amnesia or some shit." Never could tell!

[fratboybitch.livejournal.com]

"Uh huh." Yeah, he was real prone to amnesia. Besides, it wasn't like he didn't notice that little movement and he pressed back, using the palm of his hand to press down. "Got anything else you wanna correct me on? Check to see if I've forgotten?"

[pastmewrong.livejournal.com]

At that Effy shook her head, ever so slightly unsteadily. "No," she replied after a second. "Sure you've got it covered."

Mostly, her picky semantics had just seemed like a better response, somehow, than actually admitting any more than she already had. His ego was healthy enough as is.

[fratboybitch.livejournal.com]

"Which just means I'm right about everything else," he said even if, whatever, it wasn't what she'd said. She said she had no more corrects so he was taking it that way. Besides, he wondered if she'd be able to protest what with the distraction his hands were providing.

Having the advantage on height made it easier to look down over her shoulder and rotate the palm of his hand in slow circles.

[pastmewrong.livejournal.com]

"Have a habit of twisting my words," she noted, closing her eyes again. That wasn't what she'd said, or even implied, really.

She could object! She just... wasn't putting a whole lot of effort into it. Didn't seem like there was much point.

[fratboybitch.livejournal.com]

"And you do the same thing to mine," he countered, tsk'ing lightly in her ear. "That makes us even."

Or something. Whatever, he wasn't paying that much attention because the hand that had been up near her throat had drifted down to try and hike up that shirt of hers.

"What's wrong with me being right?" he wondered, smiling against her shoulder. "You saying I'm not?"

[pastmewrong.livejournal.com]

"Nothing wrong with being right," she decided. It was something she enjoyed a hell of a lot herself.

"Right about a lot of things." Like what to say, and her responses, and there might've been a more noticeable hitch in her breathing as he moved his hand further. Just to prove him right.

[fratboybitch.livejournal.com]

Hearing her say that was a little gratifying and he rewarded her with a sharp press of the heel of his hand when he felt that breathing get a little erratic.

"So, if I'm right about a lot of things, what am I not right about?" He was still trying to turn tables here. "A lot isn't all."

[pastmewrong.livejournal.com]

"No one's right about everything," Effy replied. It was just a fact. Couldn't think of a specific example right at this moment. Oddly enough, her mind was elsewhere. "Not even you." Much as she was sure he wished that was the case.

[fratboybitch.livejournal.com]

"Mm." He wasn't going to try and argue that much as he wanted to. It was just the way he was, wanting to be better than everyone and know better than everyone.

"Right about a lot of things, though," he said, repeating her words from earlier and punctuating that by licking a trail from her ear down her neck. "Do I have your attention now?"

[pastmewrong.livejournal.com]

"You do," she confirmed easily, turning her head that bit towards him as he did that. It was never really in any doubt at all. "You know so much, should know that."

[fratboybitch.livejournal.com]

"It'd be typical of you to deny it just to give me a hard time. I know you're not good at outright answers either," he said, breathing the words into her cheek and neck. "Your turn. Tell me what you want."

He hoped that it was implied that he didn't mean anything deep or serious or difficult here. It was more what she wanted right now or whatever she wanted to tell him.

"I've got your attention," he said, sliding both his hands back and forth across her body, "so what are you thinking about?"

[pastmewrong.livejournal.com]

Effy smiled, exhaling a little amusement. Right at this second, she wasn't actually thinking of anything serious or difficult. Nothing that was difficult for them, anyway.

"Right now?" she said, echoing his words of earlier. "Thinking about what you're doing with your hands." They were fucking good hands and all over her, of course she was thinking about that.

[fratboybitch.livejournal.com]

"Oh yeah?" Couldn't say he was that surprised considering he'd been using his hands for awhile now. Still, it was a nice little compliment to know that he could get her thinking just about his hands.

"And you didn't answer the other request in there," he told her, sliding one hand back to her hip and splaying the other against her stomach, fingers ticking lower. "What do you want?"

[pastmewrong.livejournal.com]

"Probably want me to be more specific than just 'you', don't you?" Although that was a perfectly true answer. But... one she'd given already. Sort of. Just without the question actually being asked.

[fratboybitch.livejournal.com]

"You've got me so I don't know how you can want that," he told her which was an indirect way of saying, yes, she'd have to be more specific. "Figured you knew that one considering I've got my hands on you."

[pastmewrong.livejournal.com]

"I want you--" she whispered, smirking. "--going through with some of that you talked about." Winding her up with talk was all very well, and fucking hot, but there was always going to be a point she wanted a little more than that.

"Find your sensitive bits," since he seemed so certain he could. "Press me up against a wall like you don't give a shit where we are." Even if they were in the privacy of her room he could do that. "Got it?"

[fratboybitch.livejournal.com]

"Is that an order?" he asked, amused at those last two words. One of his hands did grab a hold of the hem of her shirt, jerking roughly upwards with no real intent but that. "Are you ordering me to pretty much fuck you until you can't move?"

Sounded like she wanted something like that, after all. He was pretty sure he could deliver.

[pastmewrong.livejournal.com]

Effy smiled, pushing herself back against him. "Yeah," she decided, "I am."

Look who could be decisive and ask for things when the moment called for it. Took a special sort of mood and moment, but she could do it and was damn certain he could, and would, deliver.

[fratboybitch.livejournal.com]

"I can do that," he said without preamble and used his weight advantage to push her forward towards the door. If she wanted it against a wall, he could do it against a wall. Or a door. Same difference.

Kept her facing away from him for the time being, giving him a slight element of surprise both with the pushing and with what he'd do next. He rucked her shirt up, exposing some of the pale skin of her back but only dragging his nails across it at first.

"See, it's not so hard to ask for things, is it?" he asked, taunting a little and sort of slipping into that mode of play. He could be sweet but he could also be this. "Help with that ache that's built up, even."

[pastmewrong.livejournal.com]

"Only right," she muttered, breath hitching as he guided her movement. "Were the one encouraging it."

No, it wasn't so hard at all. That was... not said. Knowing him he'd pick right up on that and not let go. Didn't stop her from avoiding having to admit that.

[fratboybitch.livejournal.com]

"And I didn't see you putting up much of a fight," he replied, deciding that, since it was right there, he'd just see if her back was at all sensitive. He lowered himself to a knee, pushing her shirt up a little more before running his tongue along the bumps of her spine.

"I know you think about this, think about me," he told her, blowing a few puffs of cool air across that wet skin. "You order me around in those? Ever make me do all kinds of kinky shit just because you can?"

He'd just keep winding her up with his mouth and his hands and his words.

[pastmewrong.livejournal.com]

No, not much of a fight. If it felt good, she'd go with it, and god it did. If he'd imagined even for a moment he wouldn't at least get a shiver from her with what he was doing right now, he'd have been wrong.

"Depends how kinky," she replied, swallowing as he breathed across her back. "No dreams of trussing you up in leather to have my way with you." Which was probably a relief.

[fratboybitch.livejournal.com]

Well, there was a sensitivity. Seemed her back matched her front. Good to know. Alex stood up, hooking his fingers in her shirt and draggint it off her slowly.

"Tell me how kinky," he breathed into her ear, tossing the shirt aside and pressing his body into her bare back. Despite the shirt, he was warm and lean and he'd found a new sensitivity.

"You never know," he added, hands on her sides and and hips resting heavily against her back, pushing her more against the door, "I might let you do it."

Well, she'd let him have a fantasy. It was only fair.

[pastmewrong.livejournal.com]

Effy shook her head slightly, tipping it back to rest against his shoulder.

"Know what the best thing is," she said, not really expecting, or waiting, for an answer. "Not knowing what's coming next." Part of why she found spending time around Alex such an attractive prospect. Never could quite tell where things would go.

There was a certain exhilaration to going with every spontaneous urge, no planning, no thinking, simple instinct.