exsilium | 007 ¤ [voice]

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007 ¤ [voice]

[ It's not video this time for no apparent reason. The reasons are not apparent because you can't see him. It's like a catch-22, just without the catch, or maybe the other twenty parts involved. Maybe even twenty-one. Who knows. ]

Friends, transports, exiles, lend me your engineers. [ Appreciate that stunning wordplay for a moment. ]And your scientists, assistants, researchers, mechanics, and technicians. Anybody who can function in a room filled with things that they sort of understand and not break each one systematically. And pass a basic skills test. You have to actually be able to do the job.

And speaking of that - I'm employing people. Contrast Mechanics is starting up and I need basicaly everybody. So, Exsilium, what've you got?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ The smile is a little reassuring at least, her own short and a bit sadder than usual. She uses her free had to reply, rather efficient in doing so. ]

Because I just got here. [ She's sure to underline the first word with her fingertips. Hadn't they told each other when all of this began that they only had each other? Pepper looks down at her lap, considering what else to say and coming up short. ]

[ Well, he softens a little bit, because, okay, organizing things is Pepper's Iron Man, he figures. It's as close to what he assumes she feels useful for as he does with his own projects, so he can let her do that. He'll have to come up with a longer list than Roslyn, Max, and 'maybe my roommates'. Especially since now that he considers that, he's pretty sure it's a list of all women, and he's not sure how well that will go over. ]

It's been a long time since I was at a good gathering. A really long time. I think the last one was in the wild west, actually. And before that, Versailles. [ It's a weird life here. But, whatever, he rests a hand on her knee because it's been like a while four minutes since they were touching each other. ] You want a tour? I can show you all the sights - it'll be a short tour, but. You can see my workshop and my moderately new HQ, it's pretty cool. I'll save the list of best bars for later - or just leave it to Ros, she's the one who compiled it. But I mean, there's a garden and stuff, Anora made that one. She's not here anymore either, but you'd've liked her. She and Emma reminded me a lot of you. Blonde bossy ladies who knew their shit well. But most people who're here for a while make something kind of neat. Or we can do something else. You wanna make out again?

[ She's doing her best to keep up as he talks, all the names mentally categorized with blank faces until she actually meets and puts them together. It's easy to do, starting this part of their relationship over and building it into something that's manageable and familiar. Pepper pauses mid-thought to look at the hand on her knee, glancing once and then at his face because, well. She's certain those are all women so far. Not that it means much since she's not 100% certain. But there's the idea, and she knows how he is, can be. Everyone knows that, and she's not entirely sure if she's relieved or concerned or upset about this. Maybe all of them in varying amounts.

Rather than give him a specific answer, though she's careful about typing out a single sentence before shifting the tablet so it's resting atop his thigh instead of hers, Pepper takes the hand away from her knee and leans into him. She can think about it later, see all of it later. If he keeps saying things, she'll want to leave and inspect and put into order what he's probably let go. There won't be room for this, and since he'd mentioned it first--

She kisses at his jaw, wondering how long it will take him to read and get the idea. ]

I suppose, since we have a lot of lost time to make up for...

[ He probably won't notice that until she points it out, because he has enough passing interaction with men from day to day, he just hasn't really built up any sort of lasting friendships with any of them yet. But it'll be a fun conversation when it does happen - he's done fairly well but he hasn't been perfect in his time here.

And that, it doesn't take him much time at all to read into that at all. The hand she removed goes right back to her, although this time to pull her closer, pulling with the way she's leaning into him anyway, turning his head to give her more access to his jaw while bringing him close enough to her neck to kiss along the tendon connecting it to her shoulder. He's quite okay with this plan instead. ]

[ Sometimes, even she thinks talking can be overrated. Which, given the circumstances, isn't a far stretch, and it's nice to fall into this, the warmth of it soaking through her still damp dress and lips ghosting the lobe of his ear in lieu of words. Maybe she would have said I'm here now or It really will be fine or some other comforting thing just to say it, but all she has are her hands and her expressions and the press of her body to do things for her instead.

So, she does them carefully, uncrossing her legs to situate them better and be comfortable when he kisses her neck. The heat of his mouth makes her shiver, but she goes on without protest, hands smoothing along his shoulders and down to squeeze his arms. It's an attempt to help him unwind, tell him he doesn't need to carry all the weight of this place alone anymore. She's there for that, always has been, and the notion is only so much stronger knowing he'd dealt with things without her for, at the very least, a few months; she's honestly not holding her breath there.

And any other time, Pepper might have suggested taking this where people wouldn't be likely to walk in on them, but that's a passing notion, fingers caressing the back of his neck now and up into his hair before she kisses him. Like so many other things, it could wait. ]

[ It's good that she's still thinking, because he's rapidly losing the care to do so. Pepper's here is his effective mantra of the moment, and the way he slides his hands along her, touches her like he's remembering and learning all at the same time, only echoes that.

He can't decide whether he wants to pull her into his lap or lean over her - he doesn't really care which, as long as they're as close as they can get - but he twists to face her more in the meantime, one arm against the back of the seat and the other holding her near to him as he moves along her jaw, goes right for places he knows were sensitive, because she's not the only one looking to be reassuring right now. Granted, his reassurance isn't so much that she doesn't have to look for him in as much as it is that she doesn't need to worry about being here as a whole, but when you're communicating like this it's hard to nail down those little nuances. ]

[ There's a sigh, only present in the soft lift of her shoulders and the deeper exhale of breath that fans not so purposely across skin. While she's still mindful, it's not entirely there anymore; she does have sense enough to reach between them and deposit the tablet somewhere out of the way, on the other side of him. A brief movement that doesn't disrupt much at all, and she's back to those soft yet firm touches, nails presses and hands gripping at the material of his shirt. She can read him well enough for this, understands what he wants when he turns into her, and rather than tease him, make him work for it - because she certainly tries when it's light and fun and not so entirely demanding - Pepper shifts again so she's in his lap. No space to separate them now, front-to-front and thighs parted to accommodate.

And that's much better, right? Better than before anyway. She wishes she could talk to him though, words there even if she can't actually voice them. Little things that she hopes he gets even as she arches into those touches and enjoys them and needs them like he obviously does.

I'm here. See? I won't leave you. Pepper punctuates each reassurance with a kiss, an aimless stroke of her fingers over him. ]

[ That is so much better, like, he can't even explain how much better that actually is. He's not really trying to anyway, but Tony's fantastic at communicating when he's not actively trying not to, and it's obvious in the hum of approval, the way he settles underneath her, getting more comfortable between the seat and her legs and then redoubling his efforts along her jaw. It doesn't take him long to find her mouth again, and he's not just trying to take, because that wouldn't fit all of this. He keeps getting caught up in the 'I can't believe she's here what if she leaves again' and having to calm back down into her reassurances, allow himself to trust what she's saying with her touches and posture.

So, in effect, he is taking, but he's also not. He's being gentle with his pressure, borderline reverent at times, kissing her and nipping a little at her lip but trying not to be too insistent. One, she's already overwhelmed by being here, the loss of her voice, just processing things. Two, it speaks volumes to the depth of his own feelings right now, and he's not fond of that level of exposure, even with her. Not until things are more comfortable, anyway. ]

[ She's finds it, well. It's endearing how he treats her like this, something soft and important and maybe just a bit breakable when he kisses her and holds back. It's not as if Pepper has never felt the need to do the same, though she is, by far, more subtle about it. Still, it's enough to have her open her mouth and kiss him back the way he (probably) means to kiss her, demanding and taking and there. She can handle much more than this anyway; she has him now, they're together, and that's more important than the decisions she'll have to make later--fighting, figuring the city out, how it's all going to work. At least she knows she can keep him safe - as safe as she can given who he is, what he does and how he goes about doing it - and that counts. It counts so much more than she can say.

Her arms slide around his shoulders, still pressing close into him, and her weight pushes them that much further into the cushions underneath, clinging and kissing and simply pleased. He knows how to do those things with hardly any effort, and though she's aware it's not very appropriate to continue this here, she honestly can't bring herself to care at that moment. A slight shift of her hips then, and Pepper breathes against his mouth in an attempt to catch her breath, eyes closed. ]

[ Yes, that was (probably) the way he meant to do it, and now that she's offering, he's more than willing to actually go through with it. It's cool, because his ability to check what he's doing is going to rapidly diminish as they continue; really more of an initial effort than anything he was actually hoping to follow up on.

Right now though, he's quite pleased that she doesn't care. He's never particularly minded putting on a show, and while this has started off tender and reassuring, now that it's begun, anyone who happened to enter right now wouldn't be paid any mind. He doesn't mind sharing as long as they're not talking, or at the very least, about anything remotely important. It's an odd exhibitionist aspect for someone who prefers to keep everything of even minute import almost pathologically hidden from anyone else who might see it.

Later he'll show her the training area, even though he's sure that's covered in the initial brief. He'll show her all those things he mentioned, as well as anything else he can think of. He'll show her that it's okay if she can't talk right now, that if that's her new weapon, then he's sure it'll come back eventually. He'll show her his weapon, now that he finally understands and can use it regularly. (And he's expecting that to be a fun afternoon, even without the way it sounds ridiculously full of innuendo.) He does wish she could talk - he'd love to hear the sound of her voice, to hear her reactions to everything that's here, because some of it's horrible and a lot of it sucks, but there are some pretty neat and awesome things despite that. Later, though. That'll be later.

Right now he's busy breathing in the breath she's breathing out, feeling the pulse of her heartbeat (regular, a little fast) under his hands. He was holding her so close a few moments ago that he could feel his own in response (mostly regular, occasionally not, also a little fast). The shift was nice, he appreciated that, although right now he's actually more interested in letting her catch her breath. He'll take the time to give attention to the side of her neck he's neglected thus far. ]

[ Later isn't now, so she's a bit absent from the prospect of everything that's to be later. Now, though. Now is keeping her eyes closed and focusing on the small things, like the heat of his hands through her dress and the slight tickle of breath across her skin where his attention has fallen again. Tiny things that encompass a whole, really. Pepper breathes once and forgets to again when she leans into the contact, head back enough in invitation for more.

It's almost a repeat of the very first time this happened. Almost, not quite, and if it's how she exactly remembers it versus what actually took place. She's always particular about doing so with firsts. With Tony there are many and sometimes still, but there's also that intimacy born of familiarity, which never grows tiresome even if they happen to be arguments or mildly - most often severely - frustrating things rather than moments like these. Wrapped up in each other, around each other. But this is about firsts, how it'd been tentative and good and she honestly doesn't know any particular adjectives to describe it. Only that there are similarities she can't help comparing and differences she wants to thoroughly explore despite how out in the open they are.

Pepper traces her fingers along his sides, to his chest. She's still particularly careful about it, gentle in the way she rests her palm over the reactor. Even after all this time, it bothers her in some ways, but that probably (most likely) has something to do with having had her hand down in there at one point. Causing someone to go into cardiac arrest usually gives memories an odd association and how to relate with them. Yet, it's part of him, and she cares for it just the same anyhow. So, there's that touch along with another soundless sigh in encouragement.

Then, she might have mouthed something. His name, a question, some significant thing that could have been her own vocal approval. It's against his lips when she turns into the touch to kiss him again, her other hand cupping the side of his face and thumb gingerly smoothing over a cheekbone. Her eyes are open, looking at him and incredibly apparent in asking if he wants to continue this right here. ]

[ She's probably the only person right now who can touch the reactor like that and he doesn't even think about it, might even lean towards her into the pressure, because it's the fastest way to his heart and she's allowed to have it and what's beneath it and if she doesn't want either then he's not sure how he'd handle that anyway. Probably badly. He tends to handle most things pretty badly, all things considered. Most things like that, anyway. The majority of things as a whole (totally not the same as all things being considered) he handles within a range of 'very poorly' to 'fairly well, oddly'.

He doesn't even think about the cardiac arrest anymore by this point. It freaked him out a little when it happened, but the smile on his face afterwards wasn't entirely to put her at ease - he was actually okay (mostly) by that point already. Besides, if anyone's going to send him into cardiac arrest with such a simple touch, it'll be her. He's never going to say anything nearly so cheesy to her specifically, but it doesn't negate the thought. Not entirely, anyway.

The invitation to more of her neck goes neither unappreciated nor unused, and it takes a few moments to realize she's trying to talk to him again. He doesn't entirely want to pull back, but she can't communicate right now if he's not looking at her, so, reluctantly, he does. It's nice, because at first it's her turning to kiss him again, and that's totally okay, he's more than okay with that. ] Or your room. [ Who needs words, anyway? The majority of their communication has been nonverbal for a number of years by this point. ] I can walk us there, you don't even have to move. Or we don't have to move at all - I really don't care as long as you're here. [ Which is, perhaps, a little more than he means to say, but he's not really thinking in such terms at the moment. ]

[ The soft smile that's slowly tugging at the corners of her mouth as he talks gets lost somewhere near the end of it, how it's as if he's confessing something that seems far more important than words can actually translate into. Honestly, it worries her. There's something there, in the lines of his face and the touch of his hands and the way he presses forward into her palm, that she's not quite sure how to interpret. Pepper, initially, places blame with Exsilium and its encompassing parts because there's nothing else at fault, really. She simply wouldn't let him go where she couldn't follow or wait knowing he wouldn't come back in (mostly) one piece. Second-hand guilt - because she does feel it, even if she's not really to blame - is not what she wants to focus on when he's saying things like that, and she pushes it away before he can read it in her eyes or feel it in the ever-so present tension of her shoulders.

Instead, Pepper traces his collarbone with her fingertips in an effort to reaffirm herself for him. She's here now, and she isn't going to leave him. If anything, she's determined to protect him in the ways he never thinks to protect himself, make up for the lapse in time he's obviously still dealing with. This is all she can offer, for now, and she kisses him for comfort and silence both, a gentle nip at his lip in lieu of an actual answer. Any option is the best option right now.

She does move her lips against his, speaking without saying anything so he knows it doesn't matter to her either. They're alone, and that's good enough. It's good enough for him to decide for her since she's agreeing, in this one instance, that the place isn't nearly as important as the person. ]

[ And he, in turn, when he realizes what he's said because of her reaction to it, looks a little less happy with things, looks a little more closed off in the midst of his own reaction. He isn't actually trying to let her know how much the year of her absence has meant to him - how despite the short stint back home, it still feels like a full year without her, and he hasn't been handling it well in the last two or three months especially. He's not sure how to explain that, and the simplest method is therefore to avoid it altogether, but he hasn't been preparing for her arrival, hasn't been expecting her (it was more painful that way, to wake up without her). Because of that lack of preparedness, he's almost at a complete loss as to how all of this should actually be handled. Sometimes staying prepared for the worst isn't always the best thing.

So he lets himself lose something in the trace of her fingertips over his skin, feel the weight of her on top of him as evidence of her presence enough, and let her kiss permeate his thoughts, whatever they may be at the moment. He weighs the immediate against the only-slightly-not immediate, and decides in favor of one over the other. It propels him to move his hands to her ass, leaning forward enough to get the requisite leverage to stand without breaking his hold on her, because he doesn't mind staying here, but he definitely doesn't want to be interrupted, and one of those carries more weight than the other. The direction he gives her isn't entirely clear, being given between the contact of their lips, in the short breaths and stolen intimacy of all of this, but given as he's the only one of them currently making any noise at all, it's not that hard to discern. ] Just tell me when I'm facing the right room.

[ The breath she takes becomes an airy laugh when he grips her and moves; even (somewhat) expected, the spontaneity thrills her. She's fine with whatever he wants, isn't going to deny him this time, and even if there should be a line drawn somewhere, she's willing to let it slide. Pepper slips an arm around his neck to kiss him and smother his words between their mouths like it's the best decision she's made so far since coming here, legs braced to assist him in that effort not to drop her during the trip to her room. Short-lived as it is, breaking away to tilt her head in the right direction to say 'That one.' in so few movements because she wants to kiss him again, press their noses together and look at him and smile.

Maybe there's a fleeting thought that the tablet's been left back on their now abandoned seat though, that she won't be able to answer questions that aren't simple yes and no unless he honestly has the inclination to find her something to write with--that probably isn't going to happen, she's being realisitc. But she'll use her body and her kisses and the graze of skin to skin to communicate instead since they really don't need anything else right now.

She would like very few things at the moment anyhow: to have him touch her, to get out of the dress she's wearing - it's damp, smells like rain and foreign places both - and to lock themselves away for so long as they can escape it. She doesn't know his life here, hasn't had the opportunity to ask to figure it out, and that, too, concerns her. Still, Pepper allows it without a second thought and slowly wraps herself around him. ]

[ He spares half a glance in the direction she's indicated, for little reason other than to confirm that there is a door there, that there's nothing particularly unnavigable between where he's standing and the doorway, and partially just instinctually, because you turn and look when someone's pointing something out to you. But it's only half a glance, if that, and then it's back to what they were doing, entirely, one hundred percent in her space and thoroughly unrepentant for it.

It is somewhat unlikely that he's going to find a question in the next time being that is important enough and can't be rephrased enough so as to merit having to get up and find her a means of communication. He doesn't have many questions for her right now - he asked them all in her absence. All the important ones - where she is, when she'll be here, if it's okay that he missed her as much as he did - those are all in the process of receiving their answers, if they haven't yet already. But her lips are the right here, the arm around his neck the now, and the legs around his waist the yes, that's okay, or at least as much of each of them as he can stand until they go back to marginally more normal methods of communication and the answers he thinks he's getting can be corrected, if the need be.

It takes a few seconds after her back presses against the door for him to remember that that's what he was also working on, too intent on more interesting actions than the transportation he was effecting. He holds her up enough with his hips and one arm to leave the remaining one free to open it, moving inside with her without much preamble and closing the door with his leg. After that, it's just a second or two before he's leaning over the bed, neither dropping nor depositing her there but resting a knee on the edge of it and continuing to move with her until she's resting squarely on the mattress. ]

[ Things occur to her larger details: when he looks, a kiss, the pressure of something solid behind her in addition to him against her, a door shutting, the bed. She'll think on the finer things after she's had time to adjust, remember just how breathless she is or how loud the door is falling back into place or the give of the mattress beneath them. Really too much to do later, but the mental lists fall to the side with the movement of her hands down his back. There's no worry about ending up on the floor - unless they happen to roll there - so she relaxes, thighs framing his sides rather than gripping.

It's steady contact, steady kisses and the pull of him down onto her.

Not for the first time, she yearns to say something. Encouragement or yes, please or even his name. Just his name would be fine because she likes the reaction it gets, likes to murmur it against the curve of his neck or against his ear with the addition of what she'd like to do, have him do. Not so much dirty as it is method, but it's the implication her voice carries, the tease she offers and a far more carefree part of herself with it. Still, she uses what she has at her disposal, arching against him before slipping her hands beneath the hem of his shirt to flatten her palms against his back. Either he's exceptionally warm or her fingers are cold--probably a mix of both, but that's not entirely important. What is, however, is that she shivers and stretches out and accepts more of his weight without complaint.

Somewhere between following the length of his spine with her fingertips and stroking down along his sides, she considers they should be safe about this. Somehow. Her over-thinking in the midst of what's supposed to be lack of, and there's no easy way to address it since she can't ask. But it'd be inconvenient stopping in the middle when she certainly doesn't want to stop now, so all she has is parting her lips a little in silent question and glancing down between them. He might understand, she's not positive about it though, and honestly, it'd been the farthest thing to consider when previously exploring the apartment and the city both. ]

[ He would love to hear his name from her lips - he is fairly saddened by the lack of that prospect. He loves to hear the things she comes up with during moments like this, the encouragement and the tone he gives to her words when he moves a certain way as she's halfway through them.

But for the moment, he takes what he can get. After making sure they're both squarely on the bed, he takes her invitation, relaxes a little bit, presses closer against her as he settles between her legs. She's finally given them some skin-to-skin contact, and he can't quite tell whether he wants to arch up into it or push down onto her. Decisions, decisions.

He's moving to explore her neck again when he realizes she seems to have shifted, somewhat, and pulls back to look at her properly. It seems like their ability to communicate will prove to be both useful and well tested in the coming period of time, and he takes a few moments to pull his thoughts back together well enough to try and decipher whatever it is that she's asking.

It probably takes longer than it should, really, because it hits him after he's stopped considering it and half returned to her neck, following the lines of anchoring musculature to her shoulder and rolling his hips against hers, because it's totally beyond time to do that. Cue a pause, pulling back to look at her for a moment - as though doing that without actually saying what he thinks he's realized will actually yield any sort of affirmative response from her. Whatever he was looking for though, he sees it, and he's not totally sure how to proceed. ]

I don't - I don't have anything with me. [ And he just wants to laugh, because of course. ] Do your roommates, you think? I don't know who they are. I can look in the bathrooms, I totally don't mind petty theft right now, I don't think they'd blame us.

[ Her eyes flutter shut for the briefest second at the rock of his hips, that familiar pressure bearing down on her as his mouth touches the sensitive skin of her neck, and it's not entirely intentional that her fingernails dig into his back in an effort to draw him closer. Though, at the sound of his voice, she's back to focusing on him. He's mentioning taking them from her roommates - granted, if they have them- and isn't that such a Tony-specific answer. There's a slight shrug that gets lost in the way she leans up to kiss whatever skin she can reach, an attempt at distracting so that when she nudges him he lets her up.

There's something to be said about patience and efficiency here.

Tony seems to possess neither, or some but not nearly enough, and Pepper doesn't want to have any awkward conversations with roommates she hasn't met if he happens to leave a mess or break something in the midst of looking. She raises a finger to indicate she'll be back ASAP; as if that's not a given, as if it might leave him thinking things about her not wanting to continue or something else entirely ridiculous--there's no particular train of thought beyond that because they aren't true. And entering the other rooms to check the bathrooms feels like a huge invasion of privacy, and she doesn't linger, searching quickly and rather disappointed there's nothing to be found in the first. Only when she double-checks the other does that familiar sense of excitement return, and she isn't going to comment on how the condoms seem carelessly abandoned, like a previous tenant might have left them specifically for a time like this.

In hand now, she decides to slow down a little, leaning against the open door of her bedroom just to look at him. Her expression is soft, understanding, and Pepper needs to work on rebuilding this inevitable gap she knows has risen between them with her absence. There's another pause, and then, she's moving again, hands sliding to the back of the dress to work it open. She closes the door in the same fashion as he had before, stopping short of the bed just as she reaches the end of the zipper. Faster than buttons, a bit more seductive (maybe), and there's a smile like she knows something he might not, deliberately careful in the way she pushes one of the sleeves over a shoulder to bare skin. ]

[ He's totally not keen on anything that would disrupt them right now, and when she moves up to kiss everything she can, and he shifts to accommodate this attempt. Then she's nudging, and he shifts along with that as well - he just had, why not do it again, but then she's leaving. What. Leaving. He separates from her and rolls onto his side as she actually gets up, and wow he was totally tricked but he can't really seem to find it in him to care. She holds up her finger in the universally accepted sign for 'I'll be right back', and he watches he leave and then flops onto his back in the meantime to wait, legs dangling over the edge of the bed.

The time she's gone is totally not spent in a mental panic, almost, thinking about whether or not it's been too long for him, whether or not it's not been long enough for her, what timeline she actually came here from - that's actually important, he thinks - everything else. Will thinks still work here; will they still work here. He's not totally sure, even though he hopes it does. He also hopes that all this time he's spent wishing Pepper were here hasn't built up shoes that are impossible for the real article to fill, that he's built her up too much even for her. He doesn't think that's actually possible, but he's not sure.

But she does come back, and it takes him a little while to notice her there in the doorway, because by then he's draped his forearms over his eyes and face, waiting. When he does spot her, he lets them fall, turning his head a little so he can see her entirely, as there's a small bulge in his trousers preventing a full view. However, if she keeps walking in like that, it won't be small, and he'll have to move again to get the full effect of her.

He just assumes she found one, because she came back relatively quickly and now she's taking off her clothes, and man he wants to do that. Actually he really wants to do that, so he sits up, sitting on the bed now so that he can look up at her, but reach up slightly to tug down at that sleeve, aiming to bare some more skin. ]

[ She lets out a breath that seems to have been held somewhere between the doorway and halfway across the room, idly touching his forearm and standing still as he pulls at the dress.

Her eyes close, focusing on that hand and how warm the room is in comparison to the actual temperature of her skin; it's bit chilled from the rain, still damp and hair curling just a little at the ends from having been outside. But that's then, this is now. She's hardly going to dwell on those things, and she uses her own unoccupied hand to pull at the other sleeve, assisting him even if he doesn't need it. There's something about him taking the time to undress her that she likes, lips moving in approval before taking a step closer and letting the material slip down, down, down until it's pooling at her feet.

And she's not shy or self-conscious standing there in just her underwear either, stepping forward again and using a shoulder for balance in prelude to straddling him. The space between them is immediately gone, fingers brushing at his hair and along the back of his neck. It's an effort to return to those moments before she'd left the room, kissing his cheek and the corner of his mouth. Pepper speaks though her voice is mute, murmuring his name as she kisses him--full, open, urging him with her willingness in the silence.

Please. She presses down against him, hips rocking just enough to stimulate, to feel good. There's a shiver, and she wants so badly to say those words, make him believe that they'll work on this and rebuild the parts of their relationship he might have forgotten. Anything he needs from her, she's willingly going to give and without hesitation. All she has, though, is this, moving against him and plea quiet. Touch me. ]

[ He's turned to look down at the skin being exposed, to lean forward and press both his cheek and then open-mouthed kisses to her torso, because it's Pepper, and he loves every single part of her. And then she's even closer still, and he wraps his hands and arms around her to keep her securely in his lap, kissing her back the way she's offering, asking, him to do.

His hands continue to explore her back though, tracing the line of her spine and noting the way her torso expands with her breaths, the way the lean muscles underneath his fingers move and tense with their actions and the effort it takes to hold herself up when he keeps moving. And you'd think that such careful observation would mean he was ready, or knew when she was going to press down against him, but it takes him by surprise regardless, and he gasps a little into the kiss even while his hands hold her tighter as she shivers. ] You found something, right? Because I just need to make sure you found something. [ He barely even bothers to remove his lips from hers to ask his question, regardless of the importance he's placing on her answer, arms trying to pull her even closer to him still. ]

[ There's the slightest jerk of her head in reply, more a rub of lips to lips as she attempts something like a nod. Maybe she could have shown him while leaning against the door, teased him a little with it, but she hadn't actually considered it enough to follow through. This isn't normal--it's strange and desperate and far more intimate. Neither of them are probably thinking clearly at all; she knows she hasn't been since the initial tour.

Pepper feels a bit too emotional suddenly anyway, sliding the hand that holds the condom down his back and under his shirt again. She caresses gently with her knuckles, pressing and touching to lose herself in the physicality of it instead. She traces muscle and the length of his spine, his shoulder blades and everything else between like there's more to be found. Like some quiet justification. It's okay if he takes this, takes her and what she gives - she wants him to - and it's okay. Everything's okay.

A light squeeze with her thighs, and she arches into those hands as she shifts down again, kissing along his jaw so that when she breathes, it purposely ghosts an ear. He can talk all he likes as long as he does other things too, since she knows he's quite capable of multi-tasking, and there's a minute pause between nipping at his earlobe and rocking slightly with her hips that could have been her saying his name in that new way of hers. ]

[ It's still enough of a positive answer for him, and he pulls her closer still to him at the news, because yes, now there's nothing stopping them, and man just that alone, that knowledge, feels so damn good.

He loves the feel of her hands on his back - mimics the same on her own as he has been - and arches into her hands when she hits nerve clusters or just simply sensitive skin. It's like she's exploring him in return, and he knows that she likely just came from a reality that he's still in, so for her, she hasn't missed him at all, and so somehow that seems like a weird amount of attention she's giving him, but it's not as though he's going to sit here and complain at all. Far from it, really.

And then it's her turn to arch, and his turn to groan as she shifts down against sensitive and ever more insistent areas. She's not kissing him again yet, not really, and the tease of her breath across his everything is just so much. It's so much, and he's not sure how he's going to handle all of this, come to think of it. He just doesn't know. But he catches what she's saying, understands what's going back and forth here between them. ] Fuck, I missed you. I'm - [ Whatever else, he says with his body, like she's doing. A little more controlled freneticism throughout his own movements, but nothing he's as yet noticed himself.

His hands continue their exploration of her back, although one slides up her spine to meet the strap of her bra, easily unclasping it so that movement along her spine may be unhindered. He leaves it as is, otherwise - he's unwilling to part with any of the closeness between them enough to remove it entirely. He keeps her in place squarely in his lap, where they can both get at least some semblance of the friction they actually want, but there's no telling how long he's actually going to be okay with this position. Right now he's not thinking about it, but in a few minutes, this won't be enough. ]

[ She doesn't know how to answer him aside from another nod, cut short by the kiss she finally gives him. Her tongue touches his lip, presses inside to coax more of a reaction from him in some effort to placate and soothe. Even if she's just seen him back home, she misses him regardless. She worries it might not be enough, that she won't be able to convince him things will be fine once they settle into some sort of routine and that it could, actually, become weird. She won't have it because that's simply not them, not even with the history they share, and Pepper clutches at him for a moment, breathing him in and kissing him more gently than before.

Then, she's slipping her hand free to insistently tug at his shirt. Someone's severely over-dressed now, and space is necessary for that, if only enough to remove clothes until coming together again. She leaves it for him to take care of, only hinting that he should do it soon, fingers slipping between them to graze his waist and rest her thumb against the button of his pants.

It's mostly act and react now, unfastening it rather easily and doing nothing else save for sliding her fingers along the skin just beneath the hem of his shirt. There's a smile against the corner of his mouth, leaning back enough to look at him through her lashes. She plays coy for a moment, lifting a shoulder so one of the straps of her bra slides down and rests at the crook of an elbow. The other follows, and she's topless in his lap, not modest in the slightest as she presses forward against his chest.

Her lips trail across his skin, nuzzling him and pleading with him in that wordless way for more. More of him, more friction, more anything at all. ]

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