ᴇᴍᴍᴀ ғʀᴏꜱᴛ (topclass) wrote in somerealityrpg, @ 2021-03-14 09:54:00 |
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There had been numerous trips to space that Emma could remember.
Between Magneto's little asteroid, the trip to Breakworld, the deal with all of Phoenix, even just her memories from when she had been an Avatar—never mind the Inhumans. The short of it was, Emma didn't want to be in space longer than she had to be, even with the fairly low stress of it all, five bathrooms was almost torture.
Thankfully, returning to the villa meant her own private bathroom with her very own thief again. It was only natural that the first thing they did was make use of the near infinite hot water and private bathroom, given how cramped the space station had been and while they weren't terribly concerned with other people's sensibilities, there really wasn't the room to properly enjoy each other.
Emma was content to sprawl on their bed, her hair still damp, but her muscles loose and relaxed; from orgasms and Remy's exceptionally talented head massage afterwards. They didn't really have anywhere else to be, no one expecting them, although they'd check in with Kate at some point, they could take their time.
"I can smell that coconut scrub from here, you know." It was probably unsurprising that they were as bad as one another with the pampering they both appreciated.
Getting private time with Emma had been long overdue, and Remy wasn't even moderately sorry for taking full advantage the moment he could, even if they had barely made it to the shower stall in the first place, it wasn't like they had to worry about guests. They lost Hope a while ago, and Kate knocked and announced herself since the last acrobatic session she wandered into.
"Y' smell the coconut 'cause it's in your hair, chérie." Emma had all her fancy, top of the line shampoos and lotions and what not, just as much as Remy did. They were both suckers for luxury and didn't see a need to cut corners. But sometimes Remy didn't grab Emma's fancy shampoo and just used his in her hair, especially when they were a little preoccupied with something else.
Smoothing the moisturiser into his elbows and down into is palms to get between his fingers, Remy grabbed the bottle before joining Emma on the bed, grabbing her ankle with his hand. "Y' gonna be smellin' it all day, t'inking 'bout this morning." Not that he felt she'd need much to remember it.
There was a sense of ease with Remy that Emma enjoyed.
Her relationships tended to be angled towards power and control, even with Scott, although there hadn't been much control between the pair of them, it'd been about outside control—controlling perception, controlling ideas, controlling the outcome. With Remy, Emma got to just be Emma, even with those darker sides, that villain just sitting in the back, waiting to make a grab for power from somewhere, making the hard choices people didn't understand. He understood it better, saw the grey areas she did, understood that not everything was going to be pure.
And he was fun. Something Emma relished as she laughed, her knees coming up to bracket Remy where he settled himself, the t-shirt she wore settling around her hips with her lace underwear between them.
"Because I'm so prone to memory lapses, hmm?" She most certainly was not, and they both knew that.
The dampness from the shower was still clinging to both of them; Emma's hair, his hair, her skin still warm and a little wet, his chest still a little damp. It meant her legs were warm under his palms, as Remy settled between Emma's knees, her thighs brushing his satin sleep pants. "Y' forget the smallest of things, chérie."
Smoothing a hand up her leg, Remy retrieved the lotion bottle and proceeded to work from one ankle down Emma's leg, turning that into a gentle massage too.
"Easier t' keep you settled in place if I give you motivation, oui?" If they didn't have to go anywhere, why bother going anywhere? They could check in and then just soak up all the amenities that they had at the villa. And Remy had definitely learned how to distract Emma.
"Ugh," the groan broke from Emma with little coaxing, Emma practically going boneless, sprawled on the bed and leg in Remy's very skilled hands. "Oh, Jesus," She'd known by now that he was very talented with those hands, not just in picking pockets or locks, but just about all things—stealing things, cooking, massages, getting her off. The man was just talented. "You keep doing that, and I will stay here all week."
It was barely an exaggeration too.
With her free leg hooked over Remy's waist, Emma used it to keep him close, while she let her other stretch up over his shoulder as his hands moved down past her knee to massage the moisturiser into her skin. The tingles were enough to make her shiver.
Watching Emma let go, relax, just unwind into the moment, it was a thrill enough in itself. As her damp hair spread out on the comforter, leaving little dark spots as it nearly soaked into their duvet, the pair of them taking up the length of the bed in a very familiar position but not exactly the same situation.
She was radiant like that; calm and relaxed, a little light from the morning sun slicing through the room, eyes closed in gentle pleasure, lips parted just a little. He was hit very steadily with just how taken with her he was.
Emma Frost had always been attractive; a man would need to be blind not to see that. And even then it'd be impossible not to be impressed by her strength and determination. And he'd always been a little fascinated by the dynamics of her relationship with Cyclops. Sure, it hadn't been smooth sailing, Remy was aware of that, but given the complexities that followed Jean and Scott in all ways, the fact that they'd made a relationship work for so long, Remy'd been mildly curious.
His relationship with Rogue was constant turbulence, both he and Rogue knowing how to hurt the other and never really holding back when the moment took them. It was love, it was a painful love, but it was love. He'd thought he'd marry her, in his heart of hearts, he'd truly thought he'd marry Rogue, even if it would likely have killed him at some point.
"Y'ever thought about marriage, Emma?" He wasn't entirely sure where the question came from, but he was in the habit now of just voicing what he was thinking around Emma.
Emma had just been sinking into the bliss, letting the relaxation settle into her, enough that she could've easily been lulled to sleep, or been up for a third round of decidedly lazy sex. At least until Remy's thought and then question popped out.
"Wh—" She wasn't expecting it, in the least, despite how close they'd gotten, how easily he let her into his mind, how much trust he displayed when it came to his person. He'd let her reprogram his Death personality, allowed her complete control of an aspect of his being that had previously been utterly abused.
A quick sweep over his surface thoughts naturally brought up Rogue, and Scott and Jean, and where Remy'd expected things to go. She knew the Cajun was a romantic at heart, that he threw himself in love just as much as he threw himself at danger.
"I don't... Not really, no." It was an honest answer, really. Remy had been married, surely his entire experience with Belladonna was reason enough to understand why marriage was, in a very real sense, just a production?
Emma had grown up with parents in a dysfunctional and unhappy marriage. She'd seen Scott and Jean in a marriage plagued with constant strife and loss, she'd never once suggested marriage to Scott, not just because she was certain he'd never want to betray Jean like that. But teammate after teammate had just demonstrated how futile it was to attempt to maintain a marriage in their line of work.
Never mind the divorce rates in general.
"I never really thought of myself as the marrying type."
It didn't really surprise Remy, even if he felt an odd twist of disappointment in his gut, he had a sort of suspicion that Emma felt either negatively or apathetically towards the institution. For a woman who wore as much white as she did, it was certain never bridal.
Still, his hand slowed as it stroked up the outside of her thigh, still held on his shoulder by her ankle. "Not even with Scottie?" Theirs wasn't the same kind of whirlwind, epic love story like Jean and Scott's, but even Remy had to admit that was unlikely to ever happen again. He'd just always assumed that maybe Emma would've wanted to stake that claim.
"No," the leg curved over Remy's hip moved to grip tighter, pulling Remy closer to her, forcing her to drop her other leg from his shoulder, but it joined the other around his waist, Emma's hands bracing Remy's shoulders to tug him down towards her.
Once he was braced over her, Emma's back on the bed, her nose brushing his, she let her mind settle alongside his. I don't like the notion of vows keeping someone with me, a ceremonial expectation to stay. She'd sooner live in sin with her love than be trapped because of belief, stuck in something unhappy.
"Without rings and vows and a silly piece of paper, we choose who we're with, or who we leave." Although her relationship with Cyclops had ended because of his death, the Terrigen mist taking all choice out of it for them, she'd also chosen not to try to rekindle a relationship with him when he'd returned. One day, they could be together again, or maybe they'd had their time. But either way, they'd chosen that.
Their shift in position took very little to get used to, Remy spreading his knees so that he could brace better, arms sliding under Emme's shoulders to hug her close against his chest.
There was something to her stance, to her thoughts on marriage and relationships, and he couldn't deny that he could feel the deep affection she held for him when her psychic link resettled in his mind. His own affection mirroring hers. They might not be in love yet, but he was fairly certain that it was a matter of time now.
"Like you would stay with anyone who didn't adore y' anyway." There was almost a softer tone to things, Remy nudging his nose against hers before settling into a gentle kiss. He didn't need to reassure Emma that he was okay with her opinion, he knew that she would be able to tell he was fine with things.
Giving a short laugh, Emma just pushed her hands into Remy's hair, tugging him down and sealing their lips together.
She knew they were heading towards something so much deeper than just blowing off steam, than just two people rebounding from serious relationships they dropped. They were treading very deep waters, but she should've been aware of that from the start. Remy was an all in kind of guy, charming and intelligent, romantic and sweet. And while Scott had those qualities, it took some nudging to get them out of him.
The link with Remy was far less serious, easy and light, playful at times. She could just sink into the attraction, affection and lust without consequence. Letting it build and build until she couldn't help but roll her hips to twist their positions. Sitting astride Remy's hips, pulling back from the kiss with a smirk to tug her t-shirt over head, tossing it off the bed.
"I think we should continue our celebrating the return of our very large, very comfortable bed."
Their serious discussions could wait until later.