[ His surrender causes something in her chest to clench and release; it's an intangible thing. She could not point to the twitch of muscle or the cant of his head that indicates he has embraced exposing himself to her fully, but she's as sure of it as she is of gravity and her star charts and the smell of engine grease.
Rey presses a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the center of his spine, soft, and nudges his hand back to its task. She pushes him forward off the edge of the bed and slips off of it with him, stepping aside and holding one palm to his hip, as if to turn him. Her other hand traces down from his shoulder blades to the curve of his ass, squeezing him over his pants.
The bond carries her intent to see him bent over the edge of his bed — her bunk — to watch him bare that fragile part of his soul for her again. She asks for it not with aggression, but with a soft touch and with care. She wants to unravel him, but she wants to carry him through it.
And because she knows, as he knows, that he hasn't just been running after her, but running away from her specter, she knows to ask— ]
Did you let them touch you like this? [ She's not sure what answer to expect, or if either would make her happy. Even if he had, it wouldn't have been with the same degree of trust. He had only ever given that to her. ] Did it help?
no subject
Rey presses a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the center of his spine, soft, and nudges his hand back to its task. She pushes him forward off the edge of the bed and slips off of it with him, stepping aside and holding one palm to his hip, as if to turn him. Her other hand traces down from his shoulder blades to the curve of his ass, squeezing him over his pants.
The bond carries her intent to see him bent over the edge of his bed — her bunk — to watch him bare that fragile part of his soul for her again. She asks for it not with aggression, but with a soft touch and with care. She wants to unravel him, but she wants to carry him through it.
And because she knows, as he knows, that he hasn't just been running after her, but running away from her specter, she knows to ask— ]
Did you let them touch you like this? [ She's not sure what answer to expect, or if either would make her happy. Even if he had, it wouldn't have been with the same degree of trust. He had only ever given that to her. ] Did it help?