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.]

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[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.'

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle's eyes were wide. "By the Angel, I wish I had my phone. Now you're ripped and blushing."

Clearly things she approved of.

[flickofthewrist]

"You're a terrible person and I'm going to get another shirt," he said, moving to walk out of the kitchen and back towards their bedroom.

[seveninchmotto]

"Please, I'm a wonderful person and you love me for it," Isabelle called after him, getting up to put her empty glass on the counter.

[flickofthewrist]

"I do love you but you're still terrible," Flick called back to her, opening one of the dressers to look for a shirt. "You can be both terrible and loved, Iz."

[seveninchmotto]

"You love me because I'm terrible."

She peeled her shirt off. So she could pull his shirt on.

[flickofthewrist]

"So, you get to wear my shirt but I don't?" Flick asked, smirking at her and pulling on a button up shirt though he didn't button it, at least. "How's that fair, alpha?"

[seveninchmotto]

"Because I look extra hot in it," she replied, standing in the doorway to the bedroom. "Where as you just look the usual amount of hot. I'm liking this particular look, though."

Button-ups on him were a weakness of hers. Particularly when left hanging open.

[flickofthewrist]

"First, I'm beautiful and should be cut from marble and now I'm just usual amounts of hot," he said, shaking his head and laughing. He crossed the room and reached for the chin up bar, pulling himself up easily a few times.

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle watched with great appreciation. And she was helping by reaching out and running her hand down his chest when he pulled himself up.

Totally helping.

[flickofthewrist]

"Is there something I can help you with, Iz?" Flick asked, pulling himself up and then hanging straight armed down, feet off the floor.

[seveninchmotto]

For a second, she was too busy ogling him to answer. Then she managed to look back up at his face.

"Not sure. But this ––" She gestured at all of hi. "–– is really working for me."

[flickofthewrist]

"And how is it working for you?" he asked, readjusting his hands and pulling himself up again.

[seveninchmotto]

"I don't feel like I should be wearing clothes for this."

Well, he'd asked.

[flickofthewrist]

Flick let himself down again, hanging lazily from the pull up bar and smirking.

"So, you wanna be naked while I do pull ups?"

[seveninchmotto]

"Honestly? I want us both to be naked while you do pull ups," Isabelle replied brightly. "It leads more smoothly into the screwing."

She worked with a special kind of dirty logic.

[flickofthewrist]

"Well, feel free to get naked, baby," Flick said, pulling himself up again and feeling the burn snake down his shoulders and into his arms. "I'll wait."

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle considered arguing.

But sometimes it was much more fun to skip that. So she smirked at him, as her hands went down to undo her very nice jeans. Those ended up on the floor quickly enough. Next, she undid her bra underneath his shirt, and dropped that on the floor.

And then she turned around. Pulled the shirt off and gave him a nice view of her black hair falling against her bare, pale back. She gave him a smirk over her shoulder.

[flickofthewrist]

Flick took a breath and held it as he did another pull up, holding it and feeling a fine shake in his arms as he let himself down when her hair tumbled down her back.

"Beautiful," he murmured reverently.

[seveninchmotto]

"Thank you," she replied. And for that, he got to watch her remove her panties as well. She did it slow, and when she bent over to push them down her hips and legs, it was completely on purpose.

[flickofthewrist]

Flick licked his lips and wanted to stop what he was doing but he didn't. He had no idea why but he kept watching and pulled himself up again, slower this time but still smoothly and without too much effort.

"Mmm."

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle stepped out of her underwear.

Then she turned. Some of her hair fell over her breasts and it was just as pleasing a sight as her back had been, if not even more so. She stepped a little closer, watching him.

"Keep going."