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“Zulu... Hotel... Echo... November... Golf... Zulu... Hotel...”
[ Tseng’s gaze sweeps over the bag again, and though he couldn’t be sure there wasn’t a tree in there. The dubious look on his face carries over to viewing the lights in the window—how would that look from down in the street?—and back to baking. ]
So, none of this was planned with my input. [ He points out, a stopgap. Tseng crosses his arms. He’s given her free rein, and that might have been premature. As she swiftly moves on from the living room, Tseng is still looking at the newly done-up space. The decorations clash with the minimalism of this place.
He watches her accessorize with a deftness that suggests she’s done it a hundred times before– She has. His pulse pitches protest to the aversion bubbling up in him, about it being done at his apartment, instead. But he thinks about the dozen or so sprigs of mistletoe hung up around her house and feels a heat climbing up the back of his neck.
Tseng’s mind, usually so focused, is now the traitor. It conjures up the image of them standing beneath one of those sprigs, a single breath away from each other, and her playful implication of “not watching” a movie, too. Waiting under the doorframe of the kitchen, his lips press into a faint line. How long can he keep up his pretense? ] Fine, I’ll grant you that.
[ His comfort and composure lie in delegating. ] You’re responsible for the cocoa, though.
So, none of this was planned with my input. [ He points out, a stopgap. Tseng crosses his arms. He’s given her free rein, and that might have been premature. As she swiftly moves on from the living room, Tseng is still looking at the newly done-up space. The decorations clash with the minimalism of this place.
He watches her accessorize with a deftness that suggests she’s done it a hundred times before– She has. His pulse pitches protest to the aversion bubbling up in him, about it being done at his apartment, instead. But he thinks about the dozen or so sprigs of mistletoe hung up around her house and feels a heat climbing up the back of his neck.
Tseng’s mind, usually so focused, is now the traitor. It conjures up the image of them standing beneath one of those sprigs, a single breath away from each other, and her playful implication of “not watching” a movie, too. Waiting under the doorframe of the kitchen, his lips press into a faint line. How long can he keep up his pretense? ] Fine, I’ll grant you that.
[ His comfort and composure lie in delegating. ] You’re responsible for the cocoa, though.
Edited 2025-01-22 00:22 (UTC)
[ Tseng moves to savor the way she arches into him, meeting his intensity and demanding yet more. They're somewhere between fucking and making love, just as they were last night. The faint stillness of morning makes Tseng feel both more dazed and more lucid in comparison. He cinches her in his grasp, both hands sliding down to her hips.
Her grip on him, possessive as it is soft, sends a thrill through him. The way she says his name, paired with the startled delight in her wide, dark eyes, makes his chest tighten, a warmth blooming there that feels as new as it does familiar. He watches her closely, those wide eyes dark with desire and that smile, one that's both startled and delighted. Clearly, it's impossible to focus on anything but her with the way her body shifts and rolls. Something that he not so much thinks he'd buried, but just never unearthed fully, draws another hushed, needy rasp from him against her mouth. Her thighs squeeze him at the waist. With a little jutting thrust, Tseng's hips snap against hers, burying himself this time.
That seems to wake him up. As she tries to pull him even nearer, as if they aren't already as close as two people can be, he can feel her fingernails tap lightly on his skin. It sends a faint shiver through him that ultimately fuels his fervor. He keeps kissing her, favoring Aerith's puffed lips, but trailing down to her jaw and the front of her throat, too. Prying himself from her needy cunt only to plunge his cock back into her depths with a matching yearning and desire, he slides in and out.
The strands she'd brushed back fall forward again loosely, weaving with her flaxen locks fanned out on the pillow. Tseng presses his nose next to her ear. Her name once more vibrates against her skin, along with divulging her perfection. Her faintly floral scent makes his head spin when he breathes in, in a way to explain the loss of his inhibitions. Tseng slips a hand between their bodies, his touch intent on making her tremble even more. ]
Her grip on him, possessive as it is soft, sends a thrill through him. The way she says his name, paired with the startled delight in her wide, dark eyes, makes his chest tighten, a warmth blooming there that feels as new as it does familiar. He watches her closely, those wide eyes dark with desire and that smile, one that's both startled and delighted. Clearly, it's impossible to focus on anything but her with the way her body shifts and rolls. Something that he not so much thinks he'd buried, but just never unearthed fully, draws another hushed, needy rasp from him against her mouth. Her thighs squeeze him at the waist. With a little jutting thrust, Tseng's hips snap against hers, burying himself this time.
That seems to wake him up. As she tries to pull him even nearer, as if they aren't already as close as two people can be, he can feel her fingernails tap lightly on his skin. It sends a faint shiver through him that ultimately fuels his fervor. He keeps kissing her, favoring Aerith's puffed lips, but trailing down to her jaw and the front of her throat, too. Prying himself from her needy cunt only to plunge his cock back into her depths with a matching yearning and desire, he slides in and out.
The strands she'd brushed back fall forward again loosely, weaving with her flaxen locks fanned out on the pillow. Tseng presses his nose next to her ear. Her name once more vibrates against her skin, along with divulging her perfection. Her faintly floral scent makes his head spin when he breathes in, in a way to explain the loss of his inhibitions. Tseng slips a hand between their bodies, his touch intent on making her tremble even more. ]
Of course it was. Do you tell people what you're going to buy them when you get them gifts? [ Aerith blinks at him in surprise before dismissing the question with a gentle shake of her head. ] This is just part of your gift, Tseng.
[ Still, she can tell he's still relaxing into the idea she's all but burst into his home and began enacting, so she nods more than amiably when he tasks her with the cocoa, bouncing on the balls of her feet once as her hands clasp in front of her. ] You're on. Let's do cocoa and a movie first, then cookies later. [ It hurts her ego that he seems almost threatened by the prospect of her taking over his kitchen, but privately she'll admit her last few attempts at making something could have gone a little bit better than they had.
Besides, even she's drawn in by the idea of not watching a movie with him. It seems like just the right kind of positive reinforcement to help Tseng warm to all the holiday cheer she's brought with her, and it's not like close to him isn't becoming one of her favorite places to be. It's been a while since she felt that way, and this time of year makes her want to lean into it and enjoy the new spot in her life he's begun to occupy. ]
Want to show me where your mugs and pots are? [ She pulls the hot chocolate from her bag, along with another bag, this one bearing marshmallows, looking at him in that soft, playfully anticipatory way that's become so common between them. ]
[ Still, she can tell he's still relaxing into the idea she's all but burst into his home and began enacting, so she nods more than amiably when he tasks her with the cocoa, bouncing on the balls of her feet once as her hands clasp in front of her. ] You're on. Let's do cocoa and a movie first, then cookies later. [ It hurts her ego that he seems almost threatened by the prospect of her taking over his kitchen, but privately she'll admit her last few attempts at making something could have gone a little bit better than they had.
Besides, even she's drawn in by the idea of not watching a movie with him. It seems like just the right kind of positive reinforcement to help Tseng warm to all the holiday cheer she's brought with her, and it's not like close to him isn't becoming one of her favorite places to be. It's been a while since she felt that way, and this time of year makes her want to lean into it and enjoy the new spot in her life he's begun to occupy. ]
Want to show me where your mugs and pots are? [ She pulls the hot chocolate from her bag, along with another bag, this one bearing marshmallows, looking at him in that soft, playfully anticipatory way that's become so common between them. ]
[ Breathing his name in the moments between endless, beautiful kisses when his mouth travels over her neck, and she's left to catch her breath, but can't because it all feels so radiantly, hungrily, perfect. As perfect as he tells her she is in that low murmur that Aerith would be happy to believe is reserved only for her, just as the stunned, bright moan he pulls past her lips when his hips roll forward, and he's filling her again, is all for him. Her hands adore him, from the light drag of her nails as they leave faint trails down the planes of his back, to the way her palms sweep up, pressed flat against his sides and his chest like she means to touch everything she possibly can at once. ]
Tseng– [ A soft sigh gives her pause, bright eyes barely concealed beneath the dense fans of her eyelashes as she drinks in every view of him she can. ] I'm, it's so. [ Words fail, but the way her walls tighten and flutter around his cock speaks volumes, about the way every driving thrust of his cock erodes her composure, leaving her perilously close to coming undone, even as she never wants this to end.
Her inner thighs tremble as fresh heat runs through her body, urging her to chase his mouth with her own, capturing him in another kiss as she shudders beneath and around him, her body clutching at his from her limbs to the slick clutch of her cunt. Aerith gasps his name as she comes, arching against him as she keeps him close. ]
Tseng– [ A soft sigh gives her pause, bright eyes barely concealed beneath the dense fans of her eyelashes as she drinks in every view of him she can. ] I'm, it's so. [ Words fail, but the way her walls tighten and flutter around his cock speaks volumes, about the way every driving thrust of his cock erodes her composure, leaving her perilously close to coming undone, even as she never wants this to end.
Her inner thighs tremble as fresh heat runs through her body, urging her to chase his mouth with her own, capturing him in another kiss as she shudders beneath and around him, her body clutching at his from her limbs to the slick clutch of her cunt. Aerith gasps his name as she comes, arching against him as she keeps him close. ]
[ That she settles into his space so naturally is troubling to Tseng, but not in the way he anticipated. Rather, it's because he knows his own gaze to soften a little as she moves. His lips puff from their hard line with a laugh that aims to be cynical but... isn't. ] My gift? [ His tension dissolves into contemplation. Rather than hard and strict, Tseng's expression morphs into something unclear as he watches her. More obviously, his drifts down to the marshmallows and cocoa bags.
When she asks about the mugs and pots, Tseng nods, stepping further into the kitchen. He crouches down to one of the cabinets to take out a pot, putting it on the counter. Then, almost as though he's giving her permission to take over the space after all: ] Mugs are above the sink.
[ Tseng opens the wall cabinet, where matching cups are stacked in sets of two on the bottom-most shelf. On the shelf above is a flower vase—empty, but lined up to the front because it was recently used. He'll do anything but point it out. ] I'll be in the living room, setting up. [ He excuses himself. There's a beat, a pause that lingers, just like Tseng does. ] I'm going to leave you to it.
When she asks about the mugs and pots, Tseng nods, stepping further into the kitchen. He crouches down to one of the cabinets to take out a pot, putting it on the counter. Then, almost as though he's giving her permission to take over the space after all: ] Mugs are above the sink.
[ Tseng opens the wall cabinet, where matching cups are stacked in sets of two on the bottom-most shelf. On the shelf above is a flower vase—empty, but lined up to the front because it was recently used. He'll do anything but point it out. ] I'll be in the living room, setting up. [ He excuses himself. There's a beat, a pause that lingers, just like Tseng does. ] I'm going to leave you to it.
Perfect! [ It's not that she wants him to leave the kitchen, but it seems like he's going along with this, and that boosts her spirits tremendously. Pleased and laughing softly, Aerith goes so far as to set her hands on Tseng's shoulders, playfully steering him past the doorway and into the rest of the apartment regardless of the fact that he was heading that way anyway.
About fifteen minutes later, after the scent of chocolate fills the room and the clatter of dishes can be heard as she gets their mugs (and a vase with a pair of flowers in it for him to find later) ready. Using the reflection in the window to fix her hair, Aerith finds herself impulsively tugging it free of the plait it's almost always bound back in, before smoothing it back into place. It almost makes her look right at home when she steps out, smiling to herself as she heads towards the couch. Thankfully, the coco was fairly easy to assemble, the contents of the mug she carefully passes Tseng once she reaches him surprisingly normal in appearance. ]
Find us a good movie to not watch? [ She asks as she cocks her head to the side and flashes him an impish wink. ]
About fifteen minutes later, after the scent of chocolate fills the room and the clatter of dishes can be heard as she gets their mugs (and a vase with a pair of flowers in it for him to find later) ready. Using the reflection in the window to fix her hair, Aerith finds herself impulsively tugging it free of the plait it's almost always bound back in, before smoothing it back into place. It almost makes her look right at home when she steps out, smiling to herself as she heads towards the couch. Thankfully, the coco was fairly easy to assemble, the contents of the mug she carefully passes Tseng once she reaches him surprisingly normal in appearance. ]
Find us a good movie to not watch? [ She asks as she cocks her head to the side and flashes him an impish wink. ]
[ Tseng's jaw is tight as his hands roam, mapping her without thought—not mirroring, but meant to match the way her fingers rake over his body. When Aerith's breath catches with the sweet, quiet sound of his name, it's all the invitation he needs even before she tilts her hips just so, dragging herself over the length of his cock. His vision blurs at the edges. Her climax crashes over her in shuddering waves, her cunt clenching around him so hard he nearly loses himself in the heat, the pressure, the way she moans his name. Tseng exhales sharply through his nose, muscles wound taut, when her thighs tighten around his hips, as if she means to keep him there forever.
He holds still for a moment, struggling to thrust through the vise of her orgasm, to his own. Then, with a rough, driving snap of his hips, he moves again, pushing through the aftershocks. His pace grows deeper, more insistent, pressing her into the sheets. Tseng covers her kisses with his lips, swallowing every sound she makes until it's too much—until he's shuddering against her, buried so deep. His rhythm falters, stuttering then desperate, grows ragged, and then—fuck—he follows, pleasure surges from and into him like a white-hot flood. A moans breaks from his throat before he can bite it down—this one undeniably Aerith's, stamped with her name.
His forehead drops against her shoulder. He stays like that for a moment, still buried inside her, his body taut with the vestiges of pleasure rolling through him. The aftershocks pulse between them, her cunt still fluttering around him, his muscles trembling in the wake of release. Tseng's fingers curl at her thigh. His breath stirs against her skin, uneven and warm, his lips press against her collarbone. ]
He holds still for a moment, struggling to thrust through the vise of her orgasm, to his own. Then, with a rough, driving snap of his hips, he moves again, pushing through the aftershocks. His pace grows deeper, more insistent, pressing her into the sheets. Tseng covers her kisses with his lips, swallowing every sound she makes until it's too much—until he's shuddering against her, buried so deep. His rhythm falters, stuttering then desperate, grows ragged, and then—fuck—he follows, pleasure surges from and into him like a white-hot flood. A moans breaks from his throat before he can bite it down—this one undeniably Aerith's, stamped with her name.
His forehead drops against her shoulder. He stays like that for a moment, still buried inside her, his body taut with the vestiges of pleasure rolling through him. The aftershocks pulse between them, her cunt still fluttering around him, his muscles trembling in the wake of release. Tseng's fingers curl at her thigh. His breath stirs against her skin, uneven and warm, his lips press against her collarbone. ]
[ He's aware enough of her nudging him out, but Tseng isn't sure if she's just taking control or if he’s letting her. It doesn’t matter, he realizes. Despite himself, he finds the hesitation he'd felt a moment before is lessening.
When he steps back into the living room, it's only natural that his gaze drifts toward the window again—toward the decorations draped around the frame, lights twinkling softly against the glass. Tseng steps up to see the street below and wonders what it looks like from down there. The contrast between the warm lights and the cold night, as unfamiliar as it is to have in his own apartment, must look festive. He turns away, dismissing the thought without concluding how he feels about it.
Tseng starts flipping through the TV channels. If he were honest with himself, he's only half paying attention. The sounds of Aerith moving about in the kitchen drift toward him. It should be distracting; instead, it settles into the space. His thumb slows when he lands on one of the predictable holiday films. It's not his first choice, not even his tenth. Being handed the mug, his fingers brush Aerith's. The cup is warm in his hand—the cocoa smells warm and sweet. Tseng stares down at the drink for a beat too long without taking a sip. He offers her an agreeably dry look. ]
It's good for not watching.[ Tseng sits down. He doesn't pat beside him, simply putting his hand on the seat cushion instead. He may be a useless tour guide here, but he won't make himself a terrible host on top of it. A glance up at Aerith, and he shifts slightly toward one end of the couch to make more room for her: ] Do you want to sit?
When he steps back into the living room, it's only natural that his gaze drifts toward the window again—toward the decorations draped around the frame, lights twinkling softly against the glass. Tseng steps up to see the street below and wonders what it looks like from down there. The contrast between the warm lights and the cold night, as unfamiliar as it is to have in his own apartment, must look festive. He turns away, dismissing the thought without concluding how he feels about it.
Tseng starts flipping through the TV channels. If he were honest with himself, he's only half paying attention. The sounds of Aerith moving about in the kitchen drift toward him. It should be distracting; instead, it settles into the space. His thumb slows when he lands on one of the predictable holiday films. It's not his first choice, not even his tenth. Being handed the mug, his fingers brush Aerith's. The cup is warm in his hand—the cocoa smells warm and sweet. Tseng stares down at the drink for a beat too long without taking a sip. He offers her an agreeably dry look. ]
It's good for not watching.[ Tseng sits down. He doesn't pat beside him, simply putting his hand on the seat cushion instead. He may be a useless tour guide here, but he won't make himself a terrible host on top of it. A glance up at Aerith, and he shifts slightly toward one end of the couch to make more room for her: ] Do you want to sit?
[ Cradling her mug of cocoa as he touches the seat beside him and then scoots away to give her space, Aerith lets her mug sit on a coaster on the low coffee table in front of the sofa, before she takes him up on that offered seat.
She also chases after him a split second later, shifting herself sideways until her hip touches his, and she's almost snuggled up against his side, a feeling that has her breathing out a contented sigh before she reaches for her mug again. As she carefully drinks, the movie on the screen unfolds. It's the standard; big city woman teams up with small town man to save her rural hometown while finding love along the way kind of story. Perfect for not watching, and seemingly in acknowledgement of that, Aerith's shoulder bumps against Tseng's arm, not so subtly trying to telegraph that she wants it around her.
Lowering her mug, she licks the chocolate off her lips, a lingering sweetness still hanging there when she turns to kiss his jaw, chuckling fondly against his skin before she draws away. ]
Not such a bad night, right?
She also chases after him a split second later, shifting herself sideways until her hip touches his, and she's almost snuggled up against his side, a feeling that has her breathing out a contented sigh before she reaches for her mug again. As she carefully drinks, the movie on the screen unfolds. It's the standard; big city woman teams up with small town man to save her rural hometown while finding love along the way kind of story. Perfect for not watching, and seemingly in acknowledgement of that, Aerith's shoulder bumps against Tseng's arm, not so subtly trying to telegraph that she wants it around her.
Lowering her mug, she licks the chocolate off her lips, a lingering sweetness still hanging there when she turns to kiss his jaw, chuckling fondly against his skin before she draws away. ]
Not such a bad night, right?
[ By the time he goes slack against her, Aerith's too blissed out to do anything but laugh dazedly as she lets both her arms wrap loosely around his upper back, holding him to her, as her heartbeat gradually starts to slow and the world softens. The morning light grows less pale as the minutes tick by, signifying the passage of a time Aerith chooses to not acknowledge while she's too busy memorizing the feeling of him spent and flush against her in the afterglow. ]
Morning, Tseng.
[ There's a note of music hanging on the end of his name that Aerith rounds into a gentle, giddy giggle. This is good. It's been so long since Aerith has had somewhere to direct all the love she carries around. The garden and Leaf House are wonderful outlets, but the satisfaction she gets from all the noble ways she's found to pass the time doesn't compare to how revivifying, how engrossing, it is, to have her body curved up against his shape while her fingers drift between drawing absent patterns on his back, and idly playing with his hair. ]
Morning, Tseng.
[ There's a note of music hanging on the end of his name that Aerith rounds into a gentle, giddy giggle. This is good. It's been so long since Aerith has had somewhere to direct all the love she carries around. The garden and Leaf House are wonderful outlets, but the satisfaction she gets from all the noble ways she's found to pass the time doesn't compare to how revivifying, how engrossing, it is, to have her body curved up against his shape while her fingers drift between drawing absent patterns on his back, and idly playing with his hair. ]
[ The sound of her laughter, a soft thing, reverberates through him. A small shift of his hips has him realizing just how deeply they're still pressed together, and that neither of them have moved to break the connection yet. Tseng exhales, dragging his mouth over hers in a slow kiss. A lazy kind of indulgence settles in him, something not completely familiar. It's been a while for him, too. There's always something else to occupy his mind, something more immediate. That kind of focus has served him well, kept things simple and in order. There have been no noble outlets. It'd been unnecessary. Or perhaps, more truthfully, impossible.
He's certainly never thought about how it would feel to have her fingers in his hair, either. Now that she's doing it, though, idly twining strands between her fingers, smoothing them back only for them to fall across his back again, Tseng finds it difficult to think about anything else. Except for the fact that he's always watched her. Duty demanded he memorized the way Aerith smiles, the way her eyes flicker with mischief or steel. But he's never touched her, not with both hands on her. Tseng lifts his head. ]
Good morning. [ His dark eyes hold onto hers with an intent that feels different from the way he usually looks at her. His usually clipped tone has slipped away . ]
He's certainly never thought about how it would feel to have her fingers in his hair, either. Now that she's doing it, though, idly twining strands between her fingers, smoothing them back only for them to fall across his back again, Tseng finds it difficult to think about anything else. Except for the fact that he's always watched her. Duty demanded he memorized the way Aerith smiles, the way her eyes flicker with mischief or steel. But he's never touched her, not with both hands on her. Tseng lifts his head. ]
Good morning. [ His dark eyes hold onto hers with an intent that feels different from the way he usually looks at her. His usually clipped tone has slipped away . ]
[ He's set the mug down just in time, it seems. Tseng registers the warmth against his side, her tucking herself in beside him. People exist around him in one of two ways: professional deference or measured distance—both of which Tseng maintains by design. Aerith should fit into one of those categories, too. But as much as there was ever a clear space between them, it has eroded long before this moment. Against all logic, he doesn't mind its current reshaping, either.
His arm is too still against the couch, and he knows what she's waiting for—the nudge of her shoulder is hardly subtle about it. Tseng moves his arm to resting it along the back of the couch. Then he lets it drop, fingers grazing the curve of her shoulder. With the predictable script playing out on screen, the movie is more or less white noise already. He can feel the barely there trace of cocoa on his skin. Or this is just Tseng choosing to let the moment linger beyond the actual kiss—like under the mistletoe. He lets a pause settle between them, as though ensuring he doesn't answer too quickly somehow. ]
It's not so bad. [ But he shifts. Tseng reaches for the folded blanket draped over the arm of the couch he's leaning against. It's called practical because he can't call it a decoration, but he never uses it. Without looking at her, he shakes it out with one hand, then drapes it over Aerith's legs. His arm returns around her after, settling more fully this time. He glances at her out of the corner of his eye. ] Warm enough?
His arm is too still against the couch, and he knows what she's waiting for—the nudge of her shoulder is hardly subtle about it. Tseng moves his arm to resting it along the back of the couch. Then he lets it drop, fingers grazing the curve of her shoulder. With the predictable script playing out on screen, the movie is more or less white noise already. He can feel the barely there trace of cocoa on his skin. Or this is just Tseng choosing to let the moment linger beyond the actual kiss—like under the mistletoe. He lets a pause settle between them, as though ensuring he doesn't answer too quickly somehow. ]
It's not so bad. [ But he shifts. Tseng reaches for the folded blanket draped over the arm of the couch he's leaning against. It's called practical because he can't call it a decoration, but he never uses it. Without looking at her, he shakes it out with one hand, then drapes it over Aerith's legs. His arm returns around her after, settling more fully this time. He glances at her out of the corner of his eye. ] Warm enough?
[ If she could, she would freeze this moment and give herself the luxury of endless time to memorize every facet. She wants to be able to recall his skin and the smooth silk of his hair against his hands, how the moisture of his breath clings to her kiss-swollen lips as he exhales against her mouth before claiming it in another kiss.
Aerith can feel herself relaxing into the bed, but she keeps her limbs wrapped around him, her legs loose but still settled on his hips with no sign of inclination to shift and let him move. She's watched him for too long not to treasure being able to touch all the places she's studied, to let this little pocket in the universe where the complications waiting outside her door don't matter exist for as long as it can.
He lifts his head, and her eyes widen ever so slightly. He's always been beautiful, but taking it in while they're like this is almost startling. Her eyes are bright as the fingers in his hair lift, pushing it over his shoulder to reveal his collarbone, letting her gaze follow before it meets his again. ]
It really is.
Aerith can feel herself relaxing into the bed, but she keeps her limbs wrapped around him, her legs loose but still settled on his hips with no sign of inclination to shift and let him move. She's watched him for too long not to treasure being able to touch all the places she's studied, to let this little pocket in the universe where the complications waiting outside her door don't matter exist for as long as it can.
He lifts his head, and her eyes widen ever so slightly. He's always been beautiful, but taking it in while they're like this is almost startling. Her eyes are bright as the fingers in his hair lift, pushing it over his shoulder to reveal his collarbone, letting her gaze follow before it meets his again. ]
It really is.
[ If she wasn't absolutely radiating self-satisfaction already, the gentle weight of the blanket he shakes out across her lap, leaves her beaming against the rim of her mug, grinning too widely to conceal. Maybe they'll never have something normal between them, but Aerith relishes the times when Tseng lets her get closer in this minute ways. Giving her space to hang lights in his windows because it'll make her happy before indulging her with this movie idea and a cozy blanket.
She sets her mug down before his arm settles around her again, and watches him from her periphery, much as he does with her, humming pensively at the question despite the stupid smile settled firmly on her face. ]
Getting there.
[ Aerith shifts closer and draws her legs up, tucking them up as she situates herself snugly against his side and adjusts the blanket so it's covering them both. ] How's this? [ Her head tilts back as she asks, delighting in the way her cheek rests against his collarbone, letting her gaze up at his face, her eyes lingering on his lips while the thought of kissing him crosses her mind for what must be the tenth time tonight. ] Comfy?
She sets her mug down before his arm settles around her again, and watches him from her periphery, much as he does with her, humming pensively at the question despite the stupid smile settled firmly on her face. ]
Getting there.
[ Aerith shifts closer and draws her legs up, tucking them up as she situates herself snugly against his side and adjusts the blanket so it's covering them both. ] How's this? [ Her head tilts back as she asks, delighting in the way her cheek rests against his collarbone, letting her gaze up at his face, her eyes lingering on his lips while the thought of kissing him crosses her mind for what must be the tenth time tonight. ] Comfy?
[ The tiny bulbs of the string lights cast their golden reflection on the glass and Tseng wonders how long she expects him to keep them up—for the season, into the new year? Despite that rigid thought, he doesn't stiffen up when she shuffles underneath the blanket and against the seat cushions, close against him. His apartment has the heating on, yet warmth seeps newly into his skin. ]
Getting there. [ Tseng mirrors.
He exhales slowly and realizes only after the fact that he'd been holding his breath. The soft rise and fall of her chest aligns with his, and wisps of Aerith's hair catch on the fabric of his shirt. He's certain she already knows her answers before she even pretends to think of one. He decides the distance between them and she how to close it.
Tseng doesn't know what she sees when she looks at him like that, but he does know what she's waiting for. His hand grazes the curve of her shoulder. His lips press together. He glides his hand along the side of her neck. He tilts her chin up, thumb lingering just below her jaw. The soft glow of the TV screen flickers against Aerith's skin, but any pretense of Tseng's hesitation dissolves in her breath fanning against his lips. ]
Getting there. [ Tseng mirrors.
He exhales slowly and realizes only after the fact that he'd been holding his breath. The soft rise and fall of her chest aligns with his, and wisps of Aerith's hair catch on the fabric of his shirt. He's certain she already knows her answers before she even pretends to think of one. He decides the distance between them and she how to close it.
Tseng doesn't know what she sees when she looks at him like that, but he does know what she's waiting for. His hand grazes the curve of her shoulder. His lips press together. He glides his hand along the side of her neck. He tilts her chin up, thumb lingering just below her jaw. The soft glow of the TV screen flickers against Aerith's skin, but any pretense of Tseng's hesitation dissolves in her breath fanning against his lips. ]
[ Ah, "good," he's said. A greeting exchanged not without some level of detachment, but when he says it to her, it's different. Tseng's lips curve, letting his eyes trace over her face. He agrees, it is.
Then he wonders if this is how Aerith has felt all this time. If the way he's looked at her has had the same effect on her as it's having on him now. His chest tightens, a realization that he's never really known what it feels like to be on the receiving end of that gaze, and it's a strange, humbling thought. To even make that comparison means he's been looking at her like this for a long, long time, and makes Tseng's claim of his ever professional distance a new falsehood.
Aerith brushes through his hair, her fingernails graze his skin, able to roam over his naked body in places she shouldn't be privy to. Tseng lays in the morning light reflected in her verdant eyes. After his mind has stopped swirling around the idea, he's decided to let her keep looking. Half under the sheets, he strokes her leg, hip to knee. ]
Then he wonders if this is how Aerith has felt all this time. If the way he's looked at her has had the same effect on her as it's having on him now. His chest tightens, a realization that he's never really known what it feels like to be on the receiving end of that gaze, and it's a strange, humbling thought. To even make that comparison means he's been looking at her like this for a long, long time, and makes Tseng's claim of his ever professional distance a new falsehood.
Aerith brushes through his hair, her fingernails graze his skin, able to roam over his naked body in places she shouldn't be privy to. Tseng lays in the morning light reflected in her verdant eyes. After his mind has stopped swirling around the idea, he's decided to let her keep looking. Half under the sheets, he strokes her leg, hip to knee. ]
[ By the time their lips touch, Aerith is smiling hard against his mouth, his sigh warm as it passes between them. In truth, she might struggle to put into words what she sees, if he ever asked, (and she's confident he probably won't), but she knows what happiness feels like, and it's been such a long time since she's experienced this kind of happiness, she doesn't want to examine anything further. When they're alone like this, it isn't difficult to imagine that just caring about him could be enough.
Tseng doesn't do logic any favors, and the fact that he seems so willing to lean into this spurs her along almost as much as the pull of these feelings she's only just begun to own. A soft, fleeting laugh gets smothered in that kiss before she brings her hand up to cradle the side of his face and hold him to it. ]
I can't tell if this is my present or yours. [ She teases after drawing back just far enough to catch her breath, the movie flickering on in the background, past the field of Aerith's awareness. ]
Tseng doesn't do logic any favors, and the fact that he seems so willing to lean into this spurs her along almost as much as the pull of these feelings she's only just begun to own. A soft, fleeting laugh gets smothered in that kiss before she brings her hand up to cradle the side of his face and hold him to it. ]
I can't tell if this is my present or yours. [ She teases after drawing back just far enough to catch her breath, the movie flickering on in the background, past the field of Aerith's awareness. ]
[ The concession lingers in the space between them. His thumb stays against the delicate curve of her jaw. Even if Tseng isn't sure what to make of the smile that curves against his lips—so sure and effortlessly bright—he is sure to enjoy it. The clarity of his carefully maintained distance seems to erode quicker the longer they remain in this quiet intimacy. It's hard to recognize the inevitable messiness of this when she's tucked so neatly against his side. He feels his own silence as something too weighty.
Her musing is rhetorical, he knows that, but Aerith's expression dares him to engage anyway. There's something undeniably inviting in her gaze, and something that unmistakably accepts in the way his hand drifts from her jaw before letting it fall once more to her shoulder.
Tseng pulls back, just enough to meet her gaze properly. His eyes flicker down to where the blanket pools over their legs, then back up. He tilts his head slightly as if to clear a sudden thought, and only ends up leaning into her palm. His thumb continues a path along the curve of her arm. ] It's generous of you to assume it isn't both. [ What, with them both being so indulgent. ]
Her musing is rhetorical, he knows that, but Aerith's expression dares him to engage anyway. There's something undeniably inviting in her gaze, and something that unmistakably accepts in the way his hand drifts from her jaw before letting it fall once more to her shoulder.
Tseng pulls back, just enough to meet her gaze properly. His eyes flicker down to where the blanket pools over their legs, then back up. He tilts his head slightly as if to clear a sudden thought, and only ends up leaning into her palm. His thumb continues a path along the curve of her arm. ] It's generous of you to assume it isn't both. [ What, with them both being so indulgent. ]
[ By the time he draws back her eyes have narrowed fondly, until she's gazing at him through the fans of her eyelashes at first, the smiling curve of her mouth deepening. ]
I think it's alright that it's both. It's the holidays, isn't it? We should be unwrapping presents, and indulging.
[ She doesn't bother to act like those words aren't pointed, and while Aerith knows Tseng doesn't miss a single clue, she shifts smoothly into his lap right after she says it. There's mischief in those rounded, earnest eyes, and butterflies in her stomach. Part of her suspects she'll always be just a little bit giddy about him. He's important to her in ways few people could be, a fact that's equally complicated and beautiful, and for now just getting to treasure it is enough, without a need to look too far ahead or deeper than right now.
Green eyes drink in his face as Aerith lets her arm drape around his shoulders, her gaze flicking from his eyes to his mouth and back again as she leans close enough to let her lowered voice be heard. ]
Do you want to show me the rest of your apartment? [ Aerith's hand settles on his chest as she asks, her thumb sweeping over the fabric of his shirt in a lazy arc. ] Or should we stay right here?
I think it's alright that it's both. It's the holidays, isn't it? We should be unwrapping presents, and indulging.
[ She doesn't bother to act like those words aren't pointed, and while Aerith knows Tseng doesn't miss a single clue, she shifts smoothly into his lap right after she says it. There's mischief in those rounded, earnest eyes, and butterflies in her stomach. Part of her suspects she'll always be just a little bit giddy about him. He's important to her in ways few people could be, a fact that's equally complicated and beautiful, and for now just getting to treasure it is enough, without a need to look too far ahead or deeper than right now.
Green eyes drink in his face as Aerith lets her arm drape around his shoulders, her gaze flicking from his eyes to his mouth and back again as she leans close enough to let her lowered voice be heard. ]
Do you want to show me the rest of your apartment? [ Aerith's hand settles on his chest as she asks, her thumb sweeping over the fabric of his shirt in a lazy arc. ] Or should we stay right here?
[ Her words do have the quality of something carefully wrapped, fittingly. A shift in the way she speaks to him matches how at home she is in his space. Tseng's breath stills, the smallest pause but no overarching reaction, when she settles into his lap like that. His hand instinctively steadies at Aerith's waist. His fingers flex, giving away more than he intends—she's completely unbothered by the things that make him hesitate. He can be blunt or covert; meanwhile, she hasn't asked him to want easily, only honestly.
The way she talks about 'unwrapping presents' and 'indulging' isn't lost on him at all. He suspects her definition of indulging is going to be very difficult to refrain from, unlike eating too many cookies or drinking too much spiced wine. Her fingers brush over his chest, where her closeness sets Tseng's pulse to a rhythm she can feel. ]
It is the holidays. [ Tseng concedes further. At once, he's past pretending he doesn't want the same. His gaze lingers on her for a long beat, then dips briefly to her lips before returning to her eyes. ] The rest isn't decorated the way you'd like. Do you intend to change that first?
[ He doesn't mean just pine garland or a throw blanket. ]
The way she talks about 'unwrapping presents' and 'indulging' isn't lost on him at all. He suspects her definition of indulging is going to be very difficult to refrain from, unlike eating too many cookies or drinking too much spiced wine. Her fingers brush over his chest, where her closeness sets Tseng's pulse to a rhythm she can feel. ]
It is the holidays. [ Tseng concedes further. At once, he's past pretending he doesn't want the same. His gaze lingers on her for a long beat, then dips briefly to her lips before returning to her eyes. ] The rest isn't decorated the way you'd like. Do you intend to change that first?
[ He doesn't mean just pine garland or a throw blanket. ]
[ From the familiar way his hand settles on her waist, it could almost seem like honest want comes naturally to him, and deep down, in her greediest, most infatuated moments, Aerith suspects it might, if Tseng let it, if their circumstances allowed it. Because here and now there's nothing but honest want, a desire that's glaringly apparent and worth drawing out with these teasing double entendres they exchange. If she had it her way, there'd be nothing but seconds worth treasuring between them. ]
You're in luck. I brought the perfect thing for your bedroom. [ The arms around him tighten in a brief little hug as she speaks, her tone obviously delighted, as though he'd finally brought up something she'd been waiting all night to share.
And, in a way, that's not entirely untrue.
Aerith doesn't want to, but she slides off Tseng's lap a moment later, stepping backwards towards the door as she keeps her gaze on his face, the color rising to the apples of her cheeks not at all from the winter air. With a little laugh, she turns and moves further into his apartment, not bothering to wait for him to catch up as she heads towards his bedroom, unbuttoning the front of her dress as she moves. The red lacy set of underwear she picked out, as festive as everything else Aerith's brought with her today, bright against her skin as she eases the straps of her dress off her shoulders just as soon as she makes it into his room.
Once again Aerith pivots on her heel, although this time it's not to back away and put space between them, but rather to do away with it entirely, her arms wrapping back around him just as soon as he's close enough to hold. ]
I knew you needed some color in here.
You're in luck. I brought the perfect thing for your bedroom. [ The arms around him tighten in a brief little hug as she speaks, her tone obviously delighted, as though he'd finally brought up something she'd been waiting all night to share.
And, in a way, that's not entirely untrue.
Aerith doesn't want to, but she slides off Tseng's lap a moment later, stepping backwards towards the door as she keeps her gaze on his face, the color rising to the apples of her cheeks not at all from the winter air. With a little laugh, she turns and moves further into his apartment, not bothering to wait for him to catch up as she heads towards his bedroom, unbuttoning the front of her dress as she moves. The red lacy set of underwear she picked out, as festive as everything else Aerith's brought with her today, bright against her skin as she eases the straps of her dress off her shoulders just as soon as she makes it into his room.
Once again Aerith pivots on her heel, although this time it's not to back away and put space between them, but rather to do away with it entirely, her arms wrapping back around him just as soon as he's close enough to hold. ]
I knew you needed some color in here.
[ Tseng's hand lingers on the spot where she's been sat a moment ago, as if her warmth hasn't quite left. His hand lifts halfway before falling back into his lap. After a beat, and like he needs that hesitation as some final form of permission not from her, but from himself, he gets up. The silence left behind in the living room is no longer waiting, but expectant. He goes after the soft steps of Aerith's retreat, in the doorway of the bedroom just in time for her to turn. Red.
Color in a room he's kept blank on purpose. Slipping out of her dress like she's hanging up a coat at the door. It's very... ] Festive. [ And poetic in a way he doesn't allow himself to think—she's passing through his doors in a way she should not so easily be able to.
His gaze drags slowly from the floor to where the red lace breaks against pale skin. Gravity seems to pull laterally as she wraps warmth and intention around him. Tseng's hand draws a path up her spine, and his face always so carefully blank betrays the soft fracture of surprise in the line of barely parted lips.
Deep breath lifts his chest against hers. He isn't a man prone to being swept up. The silence is a held breath rather than avoidance. ] Aerith, [ Like a touch passed back in his voice. His fingers feel along the delicate hooks and seams. He doesn't look away, eyes dark. ] You make it a little difficult to wait. [ Wondering if he can start unwrapping gifts before Christmas morning. ]
Color in a room he's kept blank on purpose. Slipping out of her dress like she's hanging up a coat at the door. It's very... ] Festive. [ And poetic in a way he doesn't allow himself to think—she's passing through his doors in a way she should not so easily be able to.
His gaze drags slowly from the floor to where the red lace breaks against pale skin. Gravity seems to pull laterally as she wraps warmth and intention around him. Tseng's hand draws a path up her spine, and his face always so carefully blank betrays the soft fracture of surprise in the line of barely parted lips.
Deep breath lifts his chest against hers. He isn't a man prone to being swept up. The silence is a held breath rather than avoidance. ] Aerith, [ Like a touch passed back in his voice. His fingers feel along the delicate hooks and seams. He doesn't look away, eyes dark. ] You make it a little difficult to wait. [ Wondering if he can start unwrapping gifts before Christmas morning. ]
from here
It'll take time to confirm.
[ But, yes, as far as having access. The specificity of the term catches. Tseng has it filed mentally with a few others that haven't surfaced in years—not in polite conversation, anyway. A pause between messages, intentional. ]
What are you expecting to find?
It'll take time to confirm.
[ But, yes, as far as having access. The specificity of the term catches. Tseng has it filed mentally with a few others that haven't surfaced in years—not in polite conversation, anyway. A pause between messages, intentional. ]
What are you expecting to find?
[ It's not unusual for Aerith to be the brightest splash of color in any given space. Her determinedly cheerful personality aside, the flowers tend to set her apart– but she's never felt like she's lit up a room quite like she does with Tseng. While she doesn't exactly bring chaos to his order (he does keep a very firm grip on it, after all), Aerith likes to believe some of her light ends up rubbing off on him.
And while he's this close, it's impossible to think about anything other than relishing the impression she, and her surprise gift, have made on Tseng. One hand smoothes over the front of his shirt, fingers curling delicately in the fabric while she listens to him speak with those bright, unabashedly adoring eyes. ] It's the time of year for treating yourself, isn't it?
[ Raising herself onto the balls of her feet, Aerith's eyes narrow slyly at him, grinning before her chin tilts up, and she presses her lips against his. ] Don't worry. You're my gift, too.
And while he's this close, it's impossible to think about anything other than relishing the impression she, and her surprise gift, have made on Tseng. One hand smoothes over the front of his shirt, fingers curling delicately in the fabric while she listens to him speak with those bright, unabashedly adoring eyes. ] It's the time of year for treating yourself, isn't it?
[ Raising herself onto the balls of her feet, Aerith's eyes narrow slyly at him, grinning before her chin tilts up, and she presses her lips against his. ] Don't worry. You're my gift, too.
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