InsaneJournal

Who: Isabela and Atton Rand
What: Blind date continued
When: Monday.
Where: Isabela's flat
Rating: PG13 for fade-to-black sexytimes
Status: Complete



After their lunch, they’d gone back to the studio lot to get Isabela’s scooter - it had indeed fit in the backseat of Atton’s car. She’d directed him down to her building, and he’d had only minimal difficulty finding the well-hidden parking garage. “You can have my spot. Just don’t bloody drive off with my scooter in the morning.”

“I’m a self-respecting man. Do you really think I’m going to drive off with your scooter at any time?” He’d caught the ‘in the morning’ but figured he’d better not press his luck.

Isabela had been toying with it, and honestly, unless he offended her grievously, she’d give it a go. “Not intentionally. But I have had blokes leave with things of mine.” She laughed, remembering a good prank she’d played on an ex. She still hoped he’d found her red satin knickers in his shirt pocket at an inopportune time, the bastard.

“What would you have that I want? I mean, it’s not like I’m going to steal your clothes, you’re a Spring and I’m an Autumn. Our colors are fundamentally incompatible.” He winked at her, wondering if kissing her would be inappropriate.

Isabela laughed. “I was just remembering the time I put my panties in a bloke’s shirt pocket because he tried to tip me.” It was hopefully implicit that she didn’t think Atton would do that. She led him inside, heading for the elevator bank.

Atton wrinkled his nose. “He did realize you did it because you wanted to, right?” He reached out for her hand, smiling and raising it to his lips to kiss a knuckle. “I promise I won’t tip you. I won’t even praise you. Or compliment you. Nope, compliments are right off of the table.”

“Arse.” Isabela swatted him lightly, amused. She beckoned him into the elevator with a crooked finger.

Smirking, he walked into the elevator with her, wrapping his arms loosely around her waist. “Something tells me you’re familiar with this elevator.”

“Well, it is my block of flats.” Isabela chuckled, amused when he got a little more familiar. “I will not be caught on security camera like a tramp, Mr. Rand.” That was for inside her flat.

He didn’t do anything any more forward than kiss her forehead, grinning. “I wasn’t about to have sex with you in the elevator. What kind of girl do you think I am?” He smiled at her before squeezing her hand, glad when the elevator dinged.

Isabela laughed. “A very oddly shaped girl.” She extricated herself enough to walk out of the elevator, opening her flat’s door for him. “Here we are, my little abode. I do apologize for the lingering stench.”

He looked around with approval, blinking. “It smells like chick in here. I don’t mind.” He waited to be told where to sit like a good houseguest.

“Chick, as opposed to rotting cigarette. Seems all right.” Isabela closed the door, gesturing to the sitting area, where she had what she’d always thought was the world’s most comfortable couch. “If you sit down there, I defy you to get up. Really. I think it’s made of angel tears.”

“Oh, well, I know you smoke, so it’s not so bad.” He smiled, taking her bet and sitting down on the sofa. He blinked, then groaned a little, sprawling out comfortably.

Isabela laughed, sitting down next to him, leaning forward. “Isn’t it nice? I found it at a Goodwill shop. I may reupholster it, but it’s staying here until it explodes.”

“I’ve never wanted to marry an inanimate object before.” He grinned, reaching up to run his fingers through her hair. “May I stay here and sleep on your couch? I’ll pay rent.” He was teasing, and his eyebrow waggle gave it away.

Isabela laughed. “If I did that, I’d never get to sit on it again, and where would that leave me?” She smiled, settling a little closer. “I have to say, it’s rather nice you opened my door.” She might even find a way to nick his phone number; he made her laugh and that was unusual.

“You could sit on me. I’m pretty comfy, so I’m told.” Atton smiled, sitting up and grinning. “I’m glad I opened your door too. I’ll have to thank Raoul for getting fired.”

Isabela smiled right back, taking the bull by the horns and shifting over to sit on his lap, straddling him casually. “You’re comfy now,” she teased. Maybe not so much later on.

“That’s what I’m here for,” he smiled. “To look marginally pretty and to be comfy. So, what else do you do? You can’t be a stuntwoman all the time.” Polite conversation!

“What do I do for fun?” Isabela echoed. “I kickbox, like I said. I do roller derby. I do go to the bars sometimes. I’m going skydiving with a mate in a few days. Basically, anything that will get me a huge adrenaline rush.” She grinned, taking her turn to run her hand through his hair - surprisingly soft.

“Hmm, so you are action girl all the time. You’ll like skydiving. Once you pull the cord, it’s oddly peaceful. The rush comes from the freefallling.” He smiled, turning his head to butt a little into her hand.

“Oh? I’ve always meant to go, but never had anyone to go with. I hope I enjoy it.” Isabela laughed a little softer at his casual display of near-affection. “Part canine, are we?” She rested her weight against his chest.

He smiled, running his fingers through her hair and wrapping his arms around her. “Aren’t we all? I mean, you lot have told me that often enough.”

“What, that you’re a dog?” Isabela laughed. “I really don’t know what these girls are seeing; you haven’t been a pig to me for more than ten seconds at a time.” Or really, ten seconds total. He’d been a gentleman, except when she’d made a crass joke first. “You sure you’re a normal human male?”

“If you were psychic, you wouldn’t be saying that or asking that.” He smiled at her, leaning up to kiss her gently, that way she could easily push him away if she so chose.

She didn’t feel like pushing him away, so she didn’t. He was a good kisser, actually, light and careful, not sloppy. Isabela rested her hand on his cheek, smiling in spite of herself. “Not psychic, never claimed to be,” she murmured before going back to it.

“That’s good, because I’m sure it’s boring in there in between all the perving,” he murmured in return. Grinning, he moved a little to make them more comfortable, still running his fingers through her hair. His hands strayed no further south than her waist.

“Your brain or my brain?” Isabela chuckled, appreciating his obvious care. “People tell me I look innocent. I don’t know why.” She leaned over to nibble on him slightly, catching his earlobe between her teeth.

“Mine,” he smiled, but then he shivered. “Innocent my ass,” he murmured. That earlobe nibble was practiced. Thank god.

“Oh, I don’t have any claim to the title.” Isabela laughed. The last time she’d been innocent was maybe secondary school. She took her time with her nibbles, punctuated with a few light licks at the base of his neck.

But Atton could return fire, and he did. He waited for a moment before gently tugging her hair back, moving it off of her neck so that he could nibble her neck in turn.

She definitely approved of him. Isabela sighed slightly, her hand still in his hair. She shifted on his lap, unbuttoning her shirt a little, glad she’d worn a cute bra today. He was starting to get less comfy, and she couldn’t help but smirk.

“Okay, you know what, I’m probably not best designed for chaise lounging. What does chaise mean, anyway?” He sat up enough to tug off his shirt, smiling at her.

“Fancy French word for chair.” Isabela undid her shirt, smiling right back, though she knew hers was a little darker. She kissed him again, liking the clinch they’d settled into.

He knew he wasn’t out of shape, but for some reason he wanted to impress her. So he reached up under her shirt, and with a snap of his thumb and forefinger, undid the clasp of her bra. He couldn’t help but smirk.

Isabela raised an eyebrow, smirk playing on the corners of her mouth. She slid her bra off the rest of the way, getting up to get her skirt and panties off. “You get a look from the front, imagine that.”

“I’m told I’m good with my hands,” he smirked. He wiggled out of his jeans, toeing off his socks and shoes at the same time, kicking his boxers off last. “You know, if you tell me that this is just how you screen men that you want to play Jenga with, I’m going to cry.”

Isabela pretended to think. “Making you cry would be fun.” But she shook her head, stepping back over to him, leaning over him so her breasts were on full display. “I’ve got condoms in my bedroom. I’m guessing you’re not optimistic enough to keep one with you.”

“It would seem a bit cocky.” He grinned up at her. “But I do keep one in case my friends need them.” He smiled at her, fond for a moment before pulling her down to kiss her as firmly as he dared.

Oh, good. Isabela kissed right back, hips moving against his, getting into what she hoped would be a good afternoon.

She hadn’t been disappointed. They’d shagged twice before going to bed; once on the couch and once in the shower, and they’d both passed out in her bed. Isabela had just been happy she’d been able to sleep with a man without getting a wet spot on her mattress. Atton was still unconscious, as far as she could tell, and she was curled up next to him, listening to his noises. It wasn’t quite snoring, but he didn’t sleep silently.

He usually hated waking up next to someone in a strange bed. Their beds were uncomfortable and some girls clung to him like they were monkeys. But with Isabela was nice; they’d cuddled for a bit before rolling to their own sides of the bed and passing out, and she hadn’t yelled at him once for being a cover hog. He yawned, turned his head and smiled when he saw a gorgeous woman with bed hair looking down at him. “Hey. You didn’t run screaming into the night, that’s a good thing.”

“Mm. Hello.” Isabela smiled, propping herself up on one arm. “I couldn’t very well run, could I? It’s my flat.” She’d slept hard, and she was mellow and relaxed. “You looked as though you slept well.”

“Fair point. You could’ve tossed my clothes outside and kicked me out.” He ran his fingers up and down her clavicle, kissing her chin. “I did. Did you?”

“Like a stone, thanks.” Isabela smiled, amused at how cuddly he was when he first woke. “I have never thrown a man out naked, for the record. Thrown a few out, but never naked.”

He smiled and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer. “I’m glad I passed at least one test.” He was sure there’d be loads more. “You hungry? I can make you something.” He was a more than decent cook.

That was a surprise to hear, honestly. Isabela raised an eyebrow, letting him pull her, at least for now. “All right, yeah. I’d be grateful.” If he was good in the kitchen, it was another nod toward nicking his number; if he was endearingly bad, another nod toward letting it go.

“I’ll see what you have.” He tugged on his clothes before padding into the kitchen, finding enough stuff for pancakes. He set to mixing them up some chocolate chip pancakes, whistling to himself quietly.

Isabela stayed in her bed, mostly because she could. Eventually she slid into a robe, cinching the waist and heading for the loo. Once she was done in there, she came into the kitchen and blinked, laughing. “I wasn’t sure you actually knew your way around a kitchen. Colour me impressed.”

“My mom couldn’t cook to save her life, so my dad was the one to cook. He always figured that I’d die a bachelor, so he made sure I knew how to cook too.” He handed her a plate of steamy hot pancakes, smiling impishly at her. “I never told him its other uses.”

“Seducing difficult women?” Isabela smirked, but only a little. “That’s a bit horrid of your father, assuming you’d die a bachelor.”

“He assumed he would too. He always said he would have if Mom didn’t have a thing for taking in gimpy strays.” He got himself some syrup and milk before setting down next to her at the table.

Isabela reached for the syrup, adding a bit to her food before digging in. She made a pleased noise, lips pursed. “That’s lovely. Just sweet enough.”

“The trick with chocolate chip pancakes is adding less sugar. The chocolate chips make up for it.” He smiled, liking the way her eyelids fluttered closed when she was happy.

“There you go; you’ve impressed me again.” Isabela smiled as she ate. Good in bed, funny, and a good cook - she was going to find a way to nick his number before he left.

“Will it impress you if I say I promise to call you tomorrow?” He dabbed at his mouth, smiling sheepishly even as he filled up his face with food.

Isabela raised an eyebrow, amused. “I was going to nick yours from your phone, so I wouldn’t breach one-night stand protocol. But I’ll give you mine.” She liked him. She could stand a proper date. Why not.

“I uh. Already took yours.” He grinned sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. “You were in the restroom.”

She laughed delightedly, pushing her plate aside. “You’re a bastard. But I guess that does make things easier.”

“For the record, I’d like very much to take you on a proper date. Which means a lot, because I don’t really do that. Dating. One night stands, yeah, which you were going to be, but you’re funny and your legs are years long and you have a great smile.” He realized he was rambling and pushed more food into his mouth.

It was rather endearing. “All right.” Isabela chuckled, chin resting on one hand. “Why don’t you ring me up when you feel like it. You were a lovely surprise, to be quite honest. The nicest outcome I’ve ever had from accidentally flashing someone.”