The Apartment, New York, Sunday

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle was in her element. Not only was her boyfriend home – and not just visiting for the day but on actual break – but she was also cooking for him. That's right, their kitchen was a happy mess of various kinds of ingredients and pots and pans with ––

With, well, something cooking in them. It was honestly hard to tell what it was by the smell. Or the ingredients strewn about the counters. Or the way it looked, even. Maybe... maybe it was some kind of stew?

Whatever it was, Isabelle looked happy to be making it.

[ooc: NFB, and expecting a ton of SP, omg.]

Comments

[flickofthewrist]

Flick reached for his shirt and tossed it lazily at her while he let the bowls soak in the water. He went past her out to the table to grab the stew so he could bring it back in and settle it on the counter.

"This is the rest of your life, Izzy. Hope you like it."

[seveninchmotto]

She caught his shirt.

Also used that same hand to smack his ass when he went by because she had zero shame.

"Oh, I do."

[flickofthewrist]

"Hey hey hey," Flick said, waving a finger at her. "Hands off the merchandise while I'm taking care of our dishes, baby. I might get distracted."

[seveninchmotto]

For her next trick, Isabelle pointed at her face. "Do you think this is the face of someone who cares whether you get distracted or not?"

Hint: no.

[flickofthewrist]

"I was nice to you while you were cooking, wasn't I?" Flick asked, washing out her dish and then his before he started getting the leftovers of the stew into Tupperware dishes.

[seveninchmotto]

"Yes, but you're a nicer person than I am," she replied, sipping her wine while his shirt dangled from her fingertips over the back of the chair. "I don't play by rules."

[flickofthewrist]

"You can look but you can't touch," he chided, shaking his head at her. "Those are my rules for washing dishes shirtless. Obey or I won't do this anymore."

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle made a face at him. Complete with scrunching up her nose and everything. "I don't like hearing the word 'obey' in situations where the punishment is something I very sincerely don't like."

Because there was good punishment, and then there was bad punishment.

[flickofthewrist]

"Sincerely?" Flick asked, glancing over his shoulder at her. "Sincerely, huh? Well, I think you should follow my rules. I'm the alpha."

Ha.

[seveninchmotto]

"Don't be absurd."

That was all she had to say to that. Because, that was absurd. Everyone knew she was the alpha. Everyone. Including him.

[flickofthewrist]

"So, if I'm not the alpha, what am I?" Flick asked, dropping the big bowl that had held the stew into the sink to wash.

[seveninchmotto]

"A beta," she offered, swirling the wine around in her glass. "Isn't that the term? When you're not the alpha?"

[flickofthewrist]

"What happens when I kick this Ascension's thing ass and become just like you?" Flick asked, up to his arms in soap now. "Do I get to be the alpha then?"

[seveninchmotto]

"Nope," Isabelle replied, leaning back just a touch. To admire the view. "It'll still be me. It's not about physical strength, baby. It's about me being your queen."

[flickofthewrist]

Flick bent over, not on purpose, so he could scrub out the pot thoroughly.

"My queen?" Flick asked, laughing. "You are full of yourself, Izzy."

[seveninchmotto]

She was very invested in him scrubbing that pot very thoroughly. Mmm.

"And I'm sure you'd prefer it if I was full of you instead," she told him pleasantly.

[flickofthewrist]

Flick laughed and shot her a look over his shoulder, eyes twinkling. "I was assuming that would come later. Won't it?"

[seveninchmotto]

"Well, something should," she replied, raising her eyebrows. Suggestively. "Oh, no, wait, I meant someone." She tilted her head. "Unrelated, but did you notice the chin-up bar I installed in the bedroom doorway?"

Well, that she'd had installed. By someone else.

Also it wasn't unrelated.

[flickofthewrist]

"You had a chin up bar installed?" he asked, finally setting the big pot to dry and just finishing up the utensils now. "Needed more exercise than you were getting?"

[seveninchmotto]

"Well it's convenient," she said. "Since we can't really fit a full salle here or anything. Plus, it's multifunctional."

[flickofthewrist]

"Multifunctional?" he asked, setting the utensils out to dry and finally turning off the water. He dried his hands and then reached out to try and snag his shirt back from her.

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle immediately stuck the hand holding the shirt behind her back. Reclaiming such aprized possession from her wasn't going to be that easy.

"Yes, multifunctional," she replied, nodding easily, as if he'd just been checking whether he'd heard her right.

[flickofthewrist]

"Do I not get my shirt back now that I've done the dishes without it?" Flick asked, still holding his hand out. "And how will that bar be multifunctional?"

[seveninchmotto]

"If you're that attached to your shirt, you shouldn't have gone to the Academy. Look at you." She gestured at his chest with the hand that held the now-empty glass of wine. "You should be carved from marble and put on display."

Sorry, she just loved him a lot, okay. Mind, yes, but also body.

"As for the bar, it's convenient for a quick workout. But also a conveniently sturdy fixture to connect things to. Like, say, cuffs. Other restraints. That kind of thing."

[flickofthewrist]

"Izzy," he said, laughing and ducking his head to hide an actual blush. Sometimes, she just caught him at the right time to cause that. "I could just go get another shirt."

Her comments about the bar just got a smirk because that was what he thought she'd meant by the word 'multifuctional.'