flamebrand | overflow.

[ Oh, the sequel. This is the first time they've done anything like, but he finds that it's easy enough to brace himself and keep Jill upright while she's straddling his lap. Almost as if he was made for this, molded to fit to whatever configuration she'd like.

Instinct has him settling one hand at Jill's waist, the other still cupped against her jaw. Holding, keeping. ]

Well, that narrows the scope considerably. [ His neck, or the part of his chest that's perpetually popping out of his (slutty) V-neck. ] And it happens to align with what I want for you.

[ Always on the same page. Even for silly things like this. ]

[Pointless to say she's never done this before--of course she hasn't, and she knows he knows it. But sitting on his lap feels right, the length of his shirt sneaking up her thighs, and she lets her eyes roam over his chest before they settle on his neck.]

It can't be all teeth.

[She murmurs, fingertips brushing over a spot on the side of his throat. Some teeth, some sucking of his skin, she imagines, but in practice she imagines she'll be clumsy. It's okay. If he expected a skilled seductress, he would be looking elsewhere.]

You can let me know if it hurts.

[Teasing.]

[ Eyes up where Jill can meet them, Rosfield. Clive keeps his focus on Jill's smile, though his palm smooths down her waist to make sure the shirt she's wearing doesn't ride up completely. Founder, give him strength. ]

I think I can handle a bite. [ He raises a brow, then laughs for what feels like the thousandth time tonight. She makes him feel so light, as if the problems of their world can't touch him when she's in his orbit. ]

...Or two. Or three.

[His laugh is everything. Even when they were children, it felt like a rare sound, something to be kept in her heart to reflect upon later whenever she could hear it. That feeling hasn't changed.]

Greedy.

[As he should be, and Jill's affections are for none but him. She ducks her head to press a kiss to the spot she's chosen on his neck, hands on his shoulders. There's a pause as she decides a nip with her teeth comes first, then her mouth, lips parting to suck at his skin enough to bruise.]

[ This time, the oh isn't just in his head: it comes out as a murmur, a soft exclamation of surprise-pleasure that skims along Jill's soft hair. Any discomfort that would usually come with being bitten (even by someone as lovely as Jill) never quite lands; Clive is too busy marveling at the reality that Jill is on his lap, with her mouth on his skin, marking him.

It does make Clive feel greedy. He can feel heat starting to pool in the pit of his gut, but he tempers it as best he can while holding Jill close and waiting for her to finish. ]

―That feels nice, actually. [ Playing it cool, though he feels anything but. ]

[Her laugh is quiet, but he'll feel her breath as she huffs out, mouth leaving his skin just so that she can see the small, red mark she's left to darken over time. It's an angry little thing, and she presses her tongue to his skin to soothe it, even if he's said nothing of discomfort.

How is she expected to keep her mouth from him now? She's quite fond of that little oh he let escape.]

No wonder all manner of beast wants to bite you.

[She laughs again, louder, nosing the love bite.]

They want to take a bite out of me, [ is the correction, less chiding and far more adoring. Like he can't get enough of harmlessly bantering during intimacy, like he can't get enough of Jill.

He shivers under her attention, tongue and lips and nose, and makes another sound of low contentment in the back of his throat. He can't see the mark without a mirror to aid him, but he can feel it, warm and pulsing. ]

...Should we take turns, or do you want to keep going?

Maybe later.

[That's all she'll say about the taking a bite out of him part, smiling as she leans back to look at him, a hand coming to rest against his neck so she can graze her thumb over the mark she's left. Maybe it shouldn't make her feel proud, but it does. Everyone will know who left it.

As for taking turns...]

You can't ask me to choose between two such desires. I'll be here forever, if you'll allow it, but I also want what I'm owed.

[ "Forever" would sound dramatic coming from anyone else but Jill; as it stands, he shares the sentiment. He could probably spend the rest of eternity worshiping her if she (and the world) allowed it, but he'll keep that deranged little secret to himself.

For now: ] Well. I wouldn't want to keep you wanting.

[ Terminally incapable of not offering something he can give. He brackets Jill's face with his palm, keeping her steady with his warmth. ]

Can you stay still for me, my lady?

I can try.

[She immediately fails by leaning into his touch. It's too easy to melt into him, to want more, to rub against him like a cat looking for affection.

Jill breathes out a laugh, nervous and excited.]

I'll try again.

[ She leans, and Clive's heart does ten different things in his chest that he knows it shouldn't; flips, backflips, twists. ]

As many times as you want.

[ If she wants affection from him, it's affection she'll get. He thumbs along the crest of her cheekbone, reverent and indulgent, and only leans in when he's sure he can get away with it. ]

Are you ready?

[ Teasing, blown against her ear. Low, and with purpose. ]

[No, she is not ready. She feels like she might swoon with how dizzy he makes her. His voice makes her shiver, and she smiles at him, at ease only because if she does happen to pass the fuck out she's already in his arms.]

Clive. You're a tease.

[And by the sound of her voice, she loves it.]

[ "And you're the love of my life", he would have said, if he'd found the right time to say I love you before this. There needs to be a better place for that, he thinks. Maybe the snow daisies are still in bloom somewhere― he'll have to ask Gav.

(Thinking about Gav tends to manifest him, though, so. With apologies to Gav, he's exiled from Clive's thoughts for the rest of the night.)

One more gentle nuzzle against Jill's ear, and Clive dips his head. He, too, has never done anything like this before, so he's careful about it: a light press of his lips against the sliver of space where jaw meets neck, followed by an open-mouthed kiss to smooth skin. He lingers in that moment there, savoring the taste of her against his tongue before he starts to suck slowly, kneading a gentle bruise with his teeth.

A brief pullback to check the lovebite, then another lean in to lave his tongue over it. ]

[Whoever dares knock on the door, be it Gav, Otto, or the Founder himself, is going to be frozen on the spot. They can thaw while they think about what they've interuppted.

Luckily, Jill's thoughts are far from them. All she can think about is Clive, how warm he is, firm and solid muscle wherever she rests her palms, and how his kiss tickles before it stings.

She's never been more aroused in her life.

As her eyes flutter closed, she wishes she were able to keep her breathing even at all, or maybe stifle the moan that escapes her, but she's powerless under his mouth.]

Clive...

[She's not sure what she planned on saying, but she should be applauded for remembering how to speak at all.]

[ Something flares in the pit of his stomach; reciprocal arousal, hot and immediate. For a brief moment, he considers flipping positions and bearing down on Jill, her back to the bedsheets with all that lovely hair pooling around her. He wants to dip lower, to put his mouth between her chest, down to her navel, between her legs. He wants to make her call his name over and over with his face buried in her.

The moment comes and goes, but the heat doesn't. He scours his teeth one last time over the bite he'd left, then peels back slowly, blue eyes softened by affection and wanting. ]

Jill. [ Their noses rub together briefly. Clive sighs, his breath a rasp in the back of his throat. ] ...Now we match.

[They've always matched. A moon to a sun. Jill feels drunk on him, the wine long forgotten by her blood. After such a miserable and harsh life he has so much sweetness and kindness to him that it breaks Jill's heart just as much as it fills it. She could spend the rest of her days giving him tue love and softness that he deserves and it would never be enough and she'd never tire of it.]

We do. It's a pleasure. [Literally. She smiles at her own quip--he's a bad influence--and steals a quick kiss from his lips, playful.] Do have any other requests? I'd like to hear them.

[ It's a pleasure, she says, then follows it up by asking Clive if he has any other requests, as if he hasn't been fantasizing about putting his mouth on her in that very moment. He can't help but flush― is she reading my mind?, is an absurd line of thinking he doesn't care to follow― and clear his throat, as if he's been found stealing leftovers from the kitchen. ]

None of them are... [ He trails off. It occurs to him that he could have just lied and said no, but he's a terrible liar, so. RIP. ] ...polite, so to speak.

[ "I want to make you come multiple times" is kind of much, he thinks. They haven't even defined this fragile, precious thing they have between them yet. ]

[Inviting herself into his lap wasn't exactly polite. Jill watches the color rise to his cheeks and bites her lip, trying to stifle the bubble of laughter that wants to escape.]

I imagine not, no. We're...

[She can't read his mind, but they are of a similar mind. They've gone years without talking about what they are, and now...

Jill's impressed that they're keeping up the tradition.]

...Bound to each other. [ Is how he tries to finish that sentence. ] Body and soul.

[ It's as Jill said: no matter how the Fates have conspired to separate them, they've always found their way back to each other. They're tied, inexorably― or, at least, Clive wants to think so.

Still a little flushed, he traces Jill's lower lip with his thumb. ] Jill. The words I wanted to say... I thought there would be a better time for it. But I'm not afraid to speak them now, if you want them.

[What he says instead is almost better than those three little words. Jill looks at him, eyes full of adoration. He's everything she could ever want or ask for.]

I already know them. And I hope you know I feel the same.

[She finds one of his hands to hold in her own, bring to her chest, over her heart. She wouldn't be surprised if he could feel how quickly it beats. It's not fear or anxiety but the rush and thrill of being so intimate with the person she holds dearest.]

I have for a very long time.

[He can say them or keep them for a rainy day. What matters is that they feel them, and Jill is fairly certain they both do.]

[ A relief, that they both know what the words they haven't spoken are. Palm pressed to Jill's chest, he feels her pulse rabbiting against his hand; his own heart matches it, which he hopes she can feel from where her fingers are coiled around the thin skin of his wrist. ]

I know. But I've made you wait too long to hear those words, nevertheless.

[ Unfair of him, always. Depending on Jill to know, leaning on her and taking advantage of her kindness, too afraid of what he is and what he might become to burden Jill with it. Excuses, all of it. ]

...And I would have you wait just a little longer for them. [ He wants to say it properly, and not just because he's sex-brained; she deserves better than that, gods above and below. ] Not because I fear I wouldn't be believed, but because...

[ A light smile. ] ...I think it requires a bit more decorum than this.

[ His dad would be so disappointed if he knew his son made a love proposal after drinking wine and getting horny in bed, probably. Noble upbringing tells him to have some sense of propriety. ]

You're worth the wait.

[And despite all the years and all they've been through together, this thing between them feels delicate. Not that it could break, or be lost, but in the sense that it's something they both wish to protect with all their hearts. It deserves to be treated with reverence. And it shall.

(No small part of her is giddy at thought of him thinking of the right time to say it, either!)

Jill presses their foreheads together, smiling, and she thinks her face will be sore from it tomorrow.]

You needn't try to impress me too much, Clive.

[ Local outlaw spends sleepless nights thinking about how to say "I love you" to a woman who he's been in love with for his entire life. Not the proudest moment of Clive's life, but Jill is worth pining over― he wants her memories of "I love you" to mean something.

A hike of his brow, amused, and he shoots back with a gentle: ] I'm only a man. And you're worth every effort.

[ She should never feel like she isn't worth trying to impress. ]

You're not only a man. You're my heart.

[She must have lived all those miserable years with the Ironblood so that he could find her. So that they could be together.]

But... I only mean there's no way to disappoint me.

[ A blink, and then－

－a bemused laugh. Warm and genuine, unburdened by fear of judgment. ]

Come on, Jill. [ As if they're still children. ] There must be a way.

[ Surely she respects herself enough to refuse him if he's being an idiot (or so he prays). ]

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