miles baines: riff-raff! street rat! (mimicks) wrote in emillion, @ 2013-09-08 12:09:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !log, audrey leradine, miles baines |
we're up all night to get lucky.
Who: Miles Baines & Audrey Leradine.
What: Not what he meant to happen.
Where: A tavern bedroom far outside of Emillion.
When: Sunday morning, after the post-heist celebration.
Rating: Language, innuendo, sexual references.
Status: Complete.
It took some time for Miles to wake up. It came from exhaustion and the satisfaction of a job well-done, the knowledge that they’d succeeded (always a euphoric high for the man if ever there was one), and the unending and uncountable glasses of liquor in celebration, the same alcohol that then morphed into a throbbing hangover. All of these factors combined for Miles to eventually roll over in the cramped bed and feel limbs tangling with his own. For one dizzying moment he thought he might’ve spawned extra arms and legs in his sleep (some kind of mage’s curse, perhaps?), before the pieces clicked together and he managed to make sense of the situation. Ah, he thought, struggling to pry his eyes open, staring blearily at the ceiling of the tavern bedroom. It was all coming back to him. Last night, hands fumbling at trousers and shirts, trawling over soft curves, and lips and teeth on his. There was someone in his bed. Someone distinctly woman-shaped. Someone who was already awake, and— Miles shifted. Their eyes met. And just like that, all of his sated mood fled. “What the fuck?” he hissed, recoiling, almost tumbling off the mattress. The blonde had been the first to wake from her slumber. It was the blaring light through the window that made the trick. The sun's rays perfectly shined on her face, blazing about the throbbing headache that welcomed her into the world. Audrey made a pained noise, as her hands came to cover her eyes and her head leaned further back into the feathered pillows. The pain from her head did all the convincing to keep her from opening her eyes. It must have been hot, she thought, feeling her bare skin against the loose bed sheets. "Ari?" she finally whispered out. "Can you get me some water?" There was no response. Ari always awoke first, especially after a night of drinking. It was Audrey who had the tendency of sleeping until midday. "Ari?" She rolled to her side, eyes blinking open as the world came into a blurry existence. The face in front of hers was not one she ever wished to see like this. It took a lot of restraint to keep Audrey from screaming. Her hands immediately shot over her mouth, making a slapping sound as she fell onto her back on the bed again. It was her sudden movements that had caused the body next to hers to shift in his sleep. Miles' body was now in a tangle of limbs with hers. With her route of escape gone, the only way to leave was to admit to the actions of last night and the long walk of shame awaiting her the moment she walked out the door. Faram, she felt his thing press against the inside of her thigh. Audrey shut her eyes tightly again and clamped her jaw shut. What had she done? As she heard him rouse from his sleep, her body could no longer help but to stiffen up. He awoke to the equally confused expression of his heist crew's Ninja. Audrey lunged up with him, her hands pressing against her mouth to keep him from saying anything else. "Shhh!" she hushed him, pulling a hand back and pressing a finger over her lips. "Don't shout. They'll hear. This is just a wet dream you're having, now go back to sleep and this never really happened ok?" And he might have grasped at that lifeline, except that the headache was already starting to pound down his metaphorical door and smash his skull into the ground. Oh, this was real, alright. “If it is, it’s a nightmare,” Miles moaned, hands flitting up to cover his face. He didn’t want to look at the blonde beside him. Faram, it was the wrong blonde. Audrey was one of the younger ones, he hadn’t meant to… well, surely he hadn’t meant to— She stared back at him, sure he was undergoing the same turmoil of emotions that she was. Audrey had finally sat up, bringing the bed sheet to cover her very bare body as her eyes glanced around the ground looking for any sign of the clothes she had shed off at night. Like a beating heart, her head pulsed reminding her of the limit her body could withstand. Her hand once again brushed up her hair and came back with clumps of blonde to press on her forehead. “Look. We both want to scream about this-- me especially since you’re a wet dog-- but we need to come up with something. I was piss poor drunk and you were good guy Miles. I tried to come onto you, and you politely showed me the bed where I slept clothed and you slept on that couch over there. Does that sound good?” The fact she couldn’t remember anything from last night was even more stressful on the young woman. What if she moaned loudly? Clearly Ari would know she had been up to something, not having returned to the room they shared. It was after a moment of keeping her eyes closed with her hand pressed against her forehead that she finally asked. “Do you remember anything?” The man was silent for a few good, long seconds at that, body rigid on the mattress beside Audrey, barely moving lest he accidentally touch her naked body once more. It was a very nice naked body, but hardly the one he’d intended on landing. He kept ticking back through the previous night in silence, meticulously sifting through the fleeting sensory details that kept bobbing back to mind. Stripped of the comforting fugue of alcohol: oh, yes, his memory worked perfectly. “Nice tits,” Miles finally said dryly, now shifting to roll out of the bed in a flash of bony ribs and sharp shoulders. “I do remember that, at least.” He started dressing as quickly as possible, as if he were back on the stage and this were a wardrobe change between sets. (Thinking of it that way made it easier.) “Must have been a treat from all the saggy ones you’ve been seeing.” His commentary did nothing more but make her pull the bed sheet over her shoulders. Eyes glanced at his naked body as he rolled out of bed, but quickly shifted away. She couldn’t describe the feeling, but it was something close to shame. Pulling the whole sheet with her, she wrapped herself around it like a long dress as she continued to look around the tavern room. Kneeling down to look beneath the bed, she didn’t glance up when she said, “No, I’m serious. Where did you throw my clothes?” That’s your problem, not mine, he almost retorted, but then Miles lingered in the act of lacing up his trousers. Searching for the girl’s clothes was an excuse not to meet her eye, at least – because the younger ones had always been in a separate category, weren’t they? Bella, Ari, Audrey, Rin. All off-limits. Verboten, as they said in Kerwon. It was Miles’ one and only self-prescribed rule for being the man in charge of the crew, and one which he’d finally broken (with gusto, if memory and evidence served—which they did). He frowned, then craned his head back, looking upwards. Miles leaned up on tiptoe, using his full six feet of height to snatch a set of colourful underwear from the ceiling light, then tossed it at Audrey on the bed. “I politely showed you the bed and then slept on the sofa, like the true and utter gentleman I am,” he finally repeated, voice strained and strangled as he finally looked at Audrey and the curve of her throat, where… well. “You should cover that up, too,” he added. Audrey was quick to recover her panties in a rush, dropping down below the bed where she knew Miles wouldn’t be able to get a clear view of her. It was in the action of pulling her panties on that something struck in her mind. The rush of her discovery sent her jumping up. “You!” she nearly shouted. “You were trying to sleep with Damia, weren’t you?! Then you got the wrong blonde.” Audrey pointed at him. “You’re a pervert!” It had been when she caught sight of where his eyes were pointed that deep red flush had sprawled on her cheeks and she immediately grabbed one of the pillows. “Stop looking at me!” With a pillow now pressed against her chest she continued her search through the rest of the room. “Darling. Sweetcheeks. I’m certain I’ve already seen more of you than—” Before he could finish, Audrey grabbed the nearest projectile and heaved it at him, which turned out to be the thoughtfully-provided Pharist Bible from the nightstand drawer. Miles ducked sideways to avoid being clocked in the head with it, but unfortunately a) it wasn’t aimed for his skull, and b) ninjas have fucking terrific aim. “Oof.” Miles wheezed and immediately stumbled backwards into the room’s single chair, tumbling into it as agony rippled from his groin. “You unbelievable bitch,” he groaned, hands tightening on the chair’s arms. Miles tried to flop out of the chair and continue his search for clothes – he still needed his own shirt – but the man was still incapacitated by pain. In that drawn-out moment, he rewound the last minute and realised that she’d called him out perfectly. Were he younger and less trained, Audrey’s accusation might have resulted in coughing and spluttering, perhaps some vehement denials. Instead, it simply led to a beleaguered sigh: “I am not a pervert.” The other matter was neither confirmed nor denied. She watched him fall over with minor pleasure at her lips. Audrey crossed her arms over her chest, doing the best to cover herself. Standing in front of him with just panties, she continued to glare daggers at the mime. “The unbelievable bitch is me, yet you’re still not answering any of my questions? Maybe it was Ash? So tell me who was it?” The Ninja was not letting him leave the room without answering that one question. One of her arms reached for the ice bucket, threatening to throw it at his crippled body. “You’re going to find me my shirt or give me yours. And you’re going to answer my question, you pervert.” “Who was what?” Miles asked evasively, now slinging his shirt back on (apparently he was keeping it) and buttoning it up swiftly despite his hangover and their argument. His hands were still dextrous to the last, as with most thieves. In this particular moment, his usual grudging fondness for the ninja had been replaced by aghast horror, exacerbated by the far-too-tactile memories that kept resurfacing every time he caught another glimpse of her half-naked. For Faram’s sake, she was supposed to be like a little sister to him…! At this point, Audrey didn’t hesitate to throw the ice bucket at him. “You know who! You were trying to sleep with someone last night. It was a blonde and it was Damia or Ash. Clearly not me because I’m eight years your junior. How does that feel? I was ten when you were eighteen.” Now he did choke, the numbers (and corresponding mental images) making his head reel. Miles caught the ice bucket against his chest, bracing it before it could knock the breath out of him. “I’m sure I’m not the first older man you’ve… ah.” Miles’ hand dove into the bucket, which was not filled with ice but rather Audrey’s wadded-up shirt. He threw that at her as well, then her trousers from the chair. They were soon some semblance of dressed, albeit disheveled and hissing and spitting at each other like two riled-up cats. “I’ll leave the room first, reconvene with the group separately, and we’ll never speak of this again.” Beat. “And if you really must know, it was Damia.” He slammed the door when he left. Audrey blinked and shook at the force of the door. Her angry scowl had turned into a soft frown. She stumbled forward and fell with arms open onto the plump bed. Digging her face into the mixture of blankets and pillows she couldn’t help but acknowledge the somewhat burning feeling inside her. It was an unknown feeling, but one she felt before. Was she jealous? Even the thought of the word caused her to sigh loudly with a distressed pitch. Damia. She didn’t like her but she didn’t dislike her-- especially with the whole Cian thing. Still, it brought a painful reminder of that time. Audrey rolled on her back and stared at the ceiling, eyes glued on the fan above her. Well, she found her bra. She took her time sliding into her clothes. “Chin up,” she spoke to herself as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. As she said that she stood straight, shoulders back, and head standing tall. Audrey forced a smile that she couldn’t bear to look at for more than a second before she raced out the door. The smile said she’d always be second best. |