[ That lovely voice whispering an obscenity does something to Clive that he can't even name. He flushes, hot all over in a way that makes something primal in the back of his head panic (did he semi-prime?); he gasps, repeats the same expletive, fuck, rough and growled against Jill's lips.
Bedsprings creak under them. The nonexistent wall on the far end of the room provides them no shelter－ if anyone passed by then, below them on the deck of the Invincible, they'd know exactly what's happening right now in Cid's quarters.
Clive doesn't care. Let them hear. He's wanted Jill for a lifetime, and nothing will make him ashamed of it, nothing will make him stop chasing her. So he does, with his fingers and the bucking of his hips, matching her grinding and her shifting. Yes, he huffs, and tips her face towards his for a kiss. ]
Jill, [ is a whine and a plea and a warning, muffled against her mouth－ he loves her so much, he thinks he could shatter. And he does, eventually, in the clutch of her hand, spilling hot and hard with her name still on his lips, shuddering against her warm body with reckless desperation. ] Jill, Jill.
[Every time they're behind closed doors, thin as they are, she's sure some gil is exchanging hands in the bet of are they fucking or not. That pot must be quite heavy after all these years. Jill doesn't care. Congratulations to the victor, whoever can hear her satisfied so well by Clive, and vice versa. Her moans are only muted when his mouth is on hers, and once more she forgets to breathe, euphoria the only thing she knows.
She thinks he comes before she does--all she's aware of is how impossibly hot and hard his cock is before it's pulsing in her hand, somehow hotter, his seed seeping between her fingertips as she passes her fingers over the tip. It's a tip in the scales, a hard shove, that sends her plummeting. Her hips twitch and press hard into his fingers as she comes, the pulsing of her walls matching the pulsing of his cock.
Impressive that he can still manage her name. If she speaks she'll blurt out that she loves him, loves him always and forever, but she's still very much determined to not steal his moment. All she can do is gasp and try to catch her breath, orgasm quick to arrive but deliciously slow to taper off.]
[ Deliriously, Clive thinks he could come again just from the feeling of Jill climaxing around his fingers. She shakes and clenches and clings to him, and Clive's world boils down to just this, her body and her breath and her warmth, and he draws closer as if he could somehow will himself to keep this moment written permanently into his flesh if he tries hard enough.
The orgasm is perfect; the afterglow, even more so. Sluggishly, he draws his fingers out from the inviting heat on her, and pulls Jill into a loose, affectionate embrace. Sweaty forehead to her shoulder, like the oversized dog he'd protested being compared to.
I love you, he aches to say. But he also doesn't want her to mistake it for a throwaway post-coitus comment, so he swallows it back down with agonizing difficulty. She deserves to hear it, from him, every day. She always has.
After a minute to catch his breath: ] If only I could will this moment to last forever.
[ Not a very Cid the Outlaw thing to say. Not a very Liberator of Valisthea thing to say, either. Just Clive Rosfield, with wants he didn't allow himself to have for decades. ]
[The loss of his fingers gets a soft whine from her, but how wonderful it is to have his strong arms around her. He's sweaty, and her hand is sticky and his cock is sticky. And when she moves her hand to his stomach, she's sure that's going to be sticky, too. But there's no rush to grab a damp cloth. She's too content.
She's pretty sure her legs are too weak to keep her from the floor, anyway.]
It may not be able to last forever, but I hope we can share it again soon. Many times.
[Her smile is small, but no less loving for it. Perhaps they'll get lucky and discover an Eikon that can stop time.]
Oh, Clive.
[There's so much to say but she doesn't know where to even begin.]
[ Many times, she says, and his heart could explode from it. Many times, tangled and enmeshed in her, trusting her with his body and his soul. Clive wants forever with Jill, as impossible and improbable as his own future seems at times.
("You always come back", she tells him; he's terrified of breaking that promise.)
His hands wander along the plane of her back, trying to insulate heat. Eventually, he knows he'll have to get up and off of her to do something about the mess sandwiched between both of their bodies, but first―
―a few more kisses. He presses one against Jill's jaw when she calls his name, and another one to her mouth afterwards, for good measure. ]
[She giggles, leaning into those kisses and giving her own in turn, happy to be sticky and tangled and showered in affection. He's perfect. He's everything. She couldn't be happier, and so to hear him apologize--her heart breaks a little.]
Don't. You've nothing to apologize for.
[Her lips press to his. No arguing, Clive.]
.... well. Perhaps you need to apologize for spoiling me. How am I to ever leave this bed?
[ He'd find being shut up with a kiss very unfair, if he also didn't like it so much. The price of being smitten, perhaps. There's still an argument springloaded on his tongue regardless, an imploration for Jill to stop forgiving him so easily, but－
－oh, she's so charming. He's so thoroughly in love with her. ]
You're welcome to stay. Though you'll be sorely missed when it comes time for me to leave the bed to take care of business.
[ Because it's been pretty much confirmed that there'll be something on the table for him in the morning. He would very much like Jill to come along, but he'd also get it if she wants to be a puddle on his bed for a day. ]
[Another kiss, slow and lazy this time, as she savors him. Whatever demands his attention in the morning, she'll accompany him. As is her right and her pleasure. Prying her from his side might take the strength if every Eikon in his arsenal.
With a contented sigh, she regards Clive with a smile somehow managing to err on the side of shy.]
[ Odin himself couldn't split Clive from Jill, and he isn't welcome to try. Get outta here, Barnabas.
Arms around Jill, Clive slowly rolls the both of them onto their sides (mindful that he doesn't want Jill to just be laying flat on top of the mess he's made). His fingers comb through waves of long hair, smoothing it along the beautiful line of Jill's perfect back. Every inch of her is precious, hallowed. She'd called herself a monster once, but he couldn't find it in himself to ever see her as such. ]
I'm enjoying myself now. [ Lips brush against her forehead. ] ...You're everything I ever wanted, and will ever want.
[ He thumbs along the corner of that slightly-shy smile, wanting to commit it to memory. ]
Jill. There's... somewhere I want to take you. When time allows.
[She hums with fondness, eyes warm as she regards him. Her heart has never felt so full.]
I'll go anywhere you wish to lead me, Clive.
[Across Valisthea, or to his bed. She lifts her hand to touch his face--but pauses. That hand is... sticky. Her eyes dart to it before she laughs, nuzzling her face against his.]
I think we should wash up before we get too comfortable.
[More excuses for wandering hands. She would love to wash him--a ridiculous thought, perhaps, given that he's a grown man. She doesn't care.]
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Bedsprings creak under them. The nonexistent wall on the far end of the room provides them no shelter－ if anyone passed by then, below them on the deck of the Invincible, they'd know exactly what's happening right now in Cid's quarters.
Clive doesn't care. Let them hear. He's wanted Jill for a lifetime, and nothing will make him ashamed of it, nothing will make him stop chasing her. So he does, with his fingers and the bucking of his hips, matching her grinding and her shifting. Yes, he huffs, and tips her face towards his for a kiss. ]
Jill, [ is a whine and a plea and a warning, muffled against her mouth－ he loves her so much, he thinks he could shatter. And he does, eventually, in the clutch of her hand, spilling hot and hard with her name still on his lips, shuddering against her warm body with reckless desperation. ] Jill, Jill.
no subject
She thinks he comes before she does--all she's aware of is how impossibly hot and hard his cock is before it's pulsing in her hand, somehow hotter, his seed seeping between her fingertips as she passes her fingers over the tip. It's a tip in the scales, a hard shove, that sends her plummeting. Her hips twitch and press hard into his fingers as she comes, the pulsing of her walls matching the pulsing of his cock.
Impressive that he can still manage her name. If she speaks she'll blurt out that she loves him, loves him always and forever, but she's still very much determined to not steal his moment. All she can do is gasp and try to catch her breath, orgasm quick to arrive but deliciously slow to taper off.]
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The orgasm is perfect; the afterglow, even more so. Sluggishly, he draws his fingers out from the inviting heat on her, and pulls Jill into a loose, affectionate embrace. Sweaty forehead to her shoulder, like the oversized dog he'd protested being compared to.
I love you, he aches to say. But he also doesn't want her to mistake it for a throwaway post-coitus comment, so he swallows it back down with agonizing difficulty. She deserves to hear it, from him, every day. She always has.
After a minute to catch his breath: ] If only I could will this moment to last forever.
[ Not a very Cid the Outlaw thing to say. Not a very Liberator of Valisthea thing to say, either. Just Clive Rosfield, with wants he didn't allow himself to have for decades. ]
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She's pretty sure her legs are too weak to keep her from the floor, anyway.]
It may not be able to last forever, but I hope we can share it again soon. Many times.
[Her smile is small, but no less loving for it. Perhaps they'll get lucky and discover an Eikon that can stop time.]
Oh, Clive.
[There's so much to say but she doesn't know where to even begin.]
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("You always come back", she tells him; he's terrified of breaking that promise.)
His hands wander along the plane of her back, trying to insulate heat. Eventually, he knows he'll have to get up and off of her to do something about the mess sandwiched between both of their bodies, but first―
―a few more kisses. He presses one against Jill's jaw when she calls his name, and another one to her mouth afterwards, for good measure. ]
...I'm sorry. For making you wait.
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Don't. You've nothing to apologize for.
[Her lips press to his. No arguing, Clive.]
.... well. Perhaps you need to apologize for spoiling me. How am I to ever leave this bed?
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－oh, she's so charming. He's so thoroughly in love with her. ]
You're welcome to stay. Though you'll be sorely missed when it comes time for me to leave the bed to take care of business.
[ Because it's been pretty much confirmed that there'll be something on the table for him in the morning. He would very much like Jill to come along, but he'd also get it if she wants to be a puddle on his bed for a day. ]
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[Another kiss, slow and lazy this time, as she savors him. Whatever demands his attention in the morning, she'll accompany him. As is her right and her pleasure. Prying her from his side might take the strength if every Eikon in his arsenal.
With a contented sigh, she regards Clive with a smile somehow managing to err on the side of shy.]
You enjoyed yourself?
[As if the evidence wasn't on both of them.]
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Arms around Jill, Clive slowly rolls the both of them onto their sides (mindful that he doesn't want Jill to just be laying flat on top of the mess he's made). His fingers comb through waves of long hair, smoothing it along the beautiful line of Jill's perfect back. Every inch of her is precious, hallowed. She'd called herself a monster once, but he couldn't find it in himself to ever see her as such. ]
I'm enjoying myself now. [ Lips brush against her forehead. ] ...You're everything I ever wanted, and will ever want.
[ He thumbs along the corner of that slightly-shy smile, wanting to commit it to memory. ]
Jill. There's... somewhere I want to take you. When time allows.
no subject
I'll go anywhere you wish to lead me, Clive.
[Across Valisthea, or to his bed. She lifts her hand to touch his face--but pauses. That hand is... sticky. Her eyes dart to it before she laughs, nuzzling her face against his.]
I think we should wash up before we get too comfortable.
[More excuses for wandering hands. She would love to wash him--a ridiculous thought, perhaps, given that he's a grown man. She doesn't care.]