seveninchmotto | Room 301, Tuesday After Classes

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Room 301, Tuesday After Classes

Things at the Institute had gotten a little more interesting again a few days agao. This owed mostly to Jace dragging a mundie girl back there after she'd been attacked by a demon. The very same girl who'd almost gotten him injured back at Pandemonium, no less. And now she'd been out cold in the Institute's infirmary for almost three days. It wasn't really a situation that needed Isabelle's presence, but she couldn't really stay away, either. So, even though she'd only arrived back on the island this morning, she was already packing for a portal back, after her classes.

The portal wouldn't even be picking her up too soon. She just had a lot of choices to make about what clothes to pack to take with her, since there was no telling whether she'd be back before her classes again next week.

[ooc: Door and post open!]

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"I'll come back," she said, looking up. "For you."

Yeah, not just 'to' him. But that too. One of her hands slid over his hip and up to his stomach, and she dragged a few of her nails over his skin.

"And for more hot, hot sex," she added. "Maybe on the desk, next time. It's sturdy, it can take you banging your thighs against it."

"For me," he repeated, sliding his fingers underneath her chin and then down her neck. "And sex. Could always bend you over the desk. Then it'd be your thighs banging against it."

He traced her lips with his thumb and sighed.

"And your thighs banging against mine," she replied, and kissed his thumb. "Also a valid idea. I'd let you bend me over it. I might taunt you to do things harder and faster, but I'd let you do it."

"You're not gonna be able to think about sex without seeing my face," Flick murmured, smiling. "I know it."

"I'm willing to take that chance," Isabelle told him, scratching her nails down his stomach. "And besides, the same obviously goes for you too."

"And I'm willing to admit that you're right, I always see your face whenever I think about sex," Flick told her. "No matter what."

He sighed at the scratching and leaned back a little.

"It's because I'm the best."

Yes.

She ducked down and kissed his thigh again.

"It's because I'm attached to you," he told her, glancing down. "You're excellent but the connection helps."

"Mmm, no wall." Or at least not one as bad as what they'd dealt with for a second there. "It does lead to better sex."

She bit the spot she'd just kissed. Not too gently. Wanted to leave a mark, see.

Flick twitched slightly and chuckled.

"Try finding that with anyone else," he mumbled, leaning back, eyes closed. Just trying to get himself and his body working towards another hard on so she could do what she wanted to do.

Isabelle sucked on his skin, then bit down again. Yeah, he was getting a bruise on the inside of his thigh, to remember her by. She gave the spot a kiss before straightening up again.

"Not too easy to find, I guess," she murmured, as her hand moved to wrap around his cock. Maybe she could help him along. (In fact, she knew she could.) "I like you. And I want to explore sexual things with you."

Flick sucked in a breath and let it out slowly.

"You wanna do more than that with me," he murmured, nodding. "I know you do."

"More than exploring my limits with my body?" Isabelle asked, giving him a few easy strokes. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

Sure and confident.

"And you know it too, baby. I know you do."

"So what do I want to do?"

Aside from stroking his cock and looking up at him, all fake innocence. Because she was already doing both of those things.

And his cock would slowly start to come around with some more stroking, she could rest assured.

"Nap with me, shop with me, relax with me, dance with me, eat with me, walk with me, hold my hand, have me spoon up against you, go on a road trip with me, kiss me in public, fall asleep with your head against my lap, tell me about your home, about you. All that. And more."

She was going to keep the stroking up with a firm, steady pace, yes.

And she shrugged. "Maybe." She definitely wanted all of those things. "But with a healthy emphasis on sexuality. At least right at this moment."

"Baby, you can admit that you want those things," he murmured, breathing in and out quietly and steadily. "In fact, I'd like it if you would. Come on. Tell me, baby. Make me feel good."

Isabelle heaved one of her usual over-theatrical sighs, and even rested her head against his leg like this was a hardship.

But her voice, though quiet, sounded sincere. "I want nap to with you, and hold your hand, and kiss you in public, and all those other things too. Falling asleep with my head on your lap is a new one but I can see it working. As long as you were stroking my hair."

"I'd stroke your hair," he said and reached out to do just that. "Until you fell asleep."

And then he smiled at her, soft and open, like he was letting her see everything that he kept hidden and behind walls. The scars and the pain and the sadness and the love in one expression.

Isabelle's expression was pretty open, too. Guess he'd managed to get one of those out of her after all. She wasn't smiling, though. Just wasn't her style.

But she was still stroking his cock, because they thrived on complex situations.

They did. It was what their relationship was all about. He even sucked in a sharp breath when the stroking seemed to get a little more intense or maybe his cock was just waking up.

"You make me happy," he told her. "You make me feel good."

Maybe it was both. Hey, her reaction had to go somewhere when she wasn't using her words. Her grip got a little firmer.

"I don't usually do that."

Seeing as her purpose in life was to hurt things.

"You do it for me," he said, inhaling again and breathing. "You're worth the fighting and the arguing and the disagreements because that feeling of goodness overrules it for me."

"Maybe you're just weird." But she didn't mind that. She also didn't actually think that. "But I like that you're happy."

Because of her, at least sometimes.

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