Characters: Angrboða/Riley (griefbringer) & Pothos/Eric (yearnling) Date/Time: Backdated to the afternoon of September 15. Rating: PG13? There's swearing! Yes! Warnings: Swearing?
“Oh, is it?” he asked, putting on a sheepish face and looking down at Riley, one eyebrow raised in amusement. Continuing to unbutton his flannel, he felt bolder and cockier as the seconds ticked by. Once he had gotten to the bottom button, Eric pushed together his arms, creating a very small bit of cleavage showing above the low cut of his worn out grey under tank. He was feeling goofy, a little too silly, and stopped, still grinning his widest one. Why shouldn’t he feel silly? Thats the fun part of situations like this, feeling absolutely great about yourself from the flowing hormones, butterflies dancing in your gut from excitement and unknown. A voice yelled at him inside for dancing around and possibly saying no. This feeling is what he lived for.
Dropping his hands, he snagged up Riley’s, moving to place her hands around his neck. “Well, Miss Casteling, if this is your house, you should establish the rules. Is this table part of the rules?” Eric glanced to where the backpack sat, sizing up the legs and wood used. There’s possibilities everywhere.
-
“That’s what I said,” she murmured, not bothering to hide her amusement from Eric as he continued to do his thing. Seeing him start to get into it made her grin even wider, pleased that he was having fun with this. The display of man-cleavage had Riley chuckling and fanning herself exaggeratedly with one hand. Well, maybe the sudden heat she was feeling wasn’t all that exaggerated, since Eric was no slouch in the looks department and from what she could see was in good shape. If she stopped to dwell on it, she’d start second guessing why a guy as hot as him would be interested in her, but that was the beauty of spur of the moment choices -- they were both here, both clearly horny, and just impulsive enough to go for it.
Her curiosity was definitely piqued as she felt Eric’s hands on hers, not protesting when he wound them around his neck. “It’s easy, Mister Clawiter, the rules are don’t break anything and no leaving until we’re both done.” Riley assumed he was picking up what she was putting down, but if not she figured she’d made her intentions clear.
-
“Miss Casteling, are you assuming I will break something? Because I think that part of the deal is unfair. Haven’t you heard? Breaking your bed frame means it was put to good use,” he teased, encircling her back with his left and pushing her hair back with his right, moving errant strands into conformation. There was no music, but he started to sway, following the beat of a song he once danced to long ago. Slow and simple, a little tilt to the side and back. Days like this didn’t seem to happen all that often, and he was glad he found a friend to share it with. Under the excitement there was no stirring of feelings in his heart, and he didn’t expect there to be.
Something Riley said earlier came back to him, causing his smile to soften, hip swaying to slow. “So, are your non-existent panties dropping because I’m just that great,” Eric teased, picking up her chin between his thumb and index to make it nod, against or with her will, he didn’t know. “Beeecause I think I am.”
-
"Mister Clawiter, when you put it that way you're more than welcome to try breaking my bed frame. Just no breaking the living room or kitchen furniture," she clarified, knowing that having to replace the table would be harder to explain to her roommates. Swaying along with him without complaint even though she wasn't much of a dancer, she knew that she was letting him set the pace now that the ground rules were established -- letting him being the operative phrase here -- and hoped he hadn't figured that she would go along with pretty much everything he wanted to do so long as she got hers in the end. She would even let him stay over if he did a really good job.
Glancing up at Eric when he started moving slower, she openly blushed at his question. "We're having a moment, you douchebag, don't fucking ruin it," Riley snarked, the warmth in her cheeks betraying the words coming from her mouth. "I'm still waiting for you to prove how great you are."
-
“I think we can agree upon those rules, Miss Casteling,” he agreed, pausing his hair brushing to draw a cross across his heart and a zipper over his lips, falling short of the boy scout salute and a heel click. Rules weren’t a problem, Eric liked knowing his boundaries. There was a warm feeling next to the butterflies in seeing her so compliant with his slow living room dancing, the hair brushing, even the vague cocky attitude at his bedroom prowess. Which is why, when he was considering his next move, Riley’s words took him by a finger of surprise and he gasped.
“Are you now, whorefrost? Well then!” he exclaimed, laughing and dropping to a squat, arm dragging down her backside to her knees, where both his arms snared her into a trap to lift up--up and over his shoulder like a common frost wench of Wildlings. A smack on her rump, regardless of whatever punishment may come, “Jesus, what are you? Eighty pounds wet? Where’s the bedroom? I’ll show you greatness.”
-
"Good, then it seems we've got an arrangement, Mister Clawiter," she pronounced, pleased that he agreed so readily with her on this. Since this was just a one-time thing, and they were both lacking powers, Riley didn't have to worry about potentially hurting him with her insane strength. For the first time in her sexual history she could be with a guy without having to be careful about every little thing, and she wasn't sure how to feel about that. Hearing Eric's gasp shook her out of her thoughts and back into the present.
"Whorefrost? We're back to that again? Damn boy, you're lucky I'm at my breaking point here, otherwise I'd kick your ass out," she replied with a short laugh, not as annoyed by the nickname as she probably should be. She would have said more if she didn't find herself slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Squeaking out an indignant sounding 'Hey!' at the smack to her rear, she found herself turned on by his taking charge. It wasn't often guys got aggressive with her outside of MMA, but she was finding out right quick that she kinda liked it. "Suck my metaphorical dick, Clawiter, my weight is none of your business. The bedroom's at the end of the hall."
-
“I might consider that, but I may also just... not,” he snorted, skipping two steps to bounce her up and down on his shoulder. Riley was light compared to the boxes of books he moves at work, not that he’d admit that; comparing women to books never seems to get anyone anywhere. “Where, here?” Eric pressed the side carrying her against the wall, sliding along a little. It’s just pure, fun, torturous adventure times. He saw the door, it’s looming truth coming closer with each step. There was no tunnel vision, no feelings of remorse, nothing saying ‘this is a terrible idea’ because, in the end, she still wouldn’t be affected by his amorous touch, she won’t wake up foaming from the mouth with hearts in her eyes, collecting toenails and stealing his toothbrush for a shrine. This was promising fun.
Stopping outside the door, he paused to let Riley down, cheeks cracked wide and flushed with furor. “After you, Miss,” he swept his arm wide, grabbing the knob in his arm and opening the door inwards.
-
"It's probably too much of a mouthful for you anyway," she blithely mumbled, shrugging even in her uncomfortable position. Eric was going to be the first non-family person to see her bedroom and the first guy to do anything in her bed; she rarely had guests and hadn't broken the bed in yet; but she didn't feel like this was anything worth mentioning. It's not like it would change anything between them, though it might puff up his ego even more. Craning her head to look where he indicated she nodded. "Yeah, there." Riley agreed, her impatience coming through in her tone. "Hurry up, the faster we get there the faster you can get this shirt." And they could get down to business.
Twisting around to fully face him, she grabbed Eric by the shirt and began pulling him into her room. "Can it with the Miss shit, the only thing I wanna hear coming from you anytime soon is you screaming my name." If he was as good as he claimed he'd hear the same in return.