Safe Who: Noah and Kiley When: Early evening Where: The lounge, then Noah’s room
Despite how big the mansion was, it was a major pain in the butt to be stuck inside all day. The weather was too crappy to venture out, and Kiley didn’t envy the adventurers who had decided to go explore the town. There was plenty to do, sure. The game room, and the theater and all that, but it was the fact that she couldn’t really leave that was starting to get to her. She had met a few more people earlier, and if Chase came through, she would get a smoke later on, but right now? She was hanging out in the lounge, alone, and standing in the large window, watching the rain come down outside.
There were a few bedrooms nearby, but no one seemed to be in them. Not that she had checked. There was an itch to open up the doors and see what they looked like, but somehow Kiley managed to resist. For now. The silver lining to her situation was she hadn’t stolen anything yet, mostly because there hadn’t been anything to steal. But, if people kept getting rewarded for their immaculate behavior, maybe…
With a bored, mildly frustrated huff, Kiley leaned against the wall by the window and tugged her sweater coat more tightly around her. It wasn’t cold in the house, but she felt chilly just from looking outside. And it made her miss her Chicago White Sox sweatshirt back home. Not that she was a big fan of baseball, or sports in general, but the sweatshirt had been her Uncle Mark’s, and it had always been comfortable.
The day had put Noah in a strange mood. He wasn’t sure what to make of getting a reward, even if it was something he couldn’t really use unless, as a couple of people had suggested, he found an alternate method of tattooing. As far as he was concerned he hadn’t done anything all that noble or reward-worthy. The only thing he could think of was that possibly offering to help Ariel had gotten someone’s attention. Or it could have been simply that he’d kept his nose clean thus far and hadn’t kicked about doing what was asked of him. Not knowing was bugging him, but there was nothing he could do about that either.
He probably should have offered to go to town with some of the others, but he hadn’t been able to move out of the headspace he was in enough to make a convincing go of it. He’d gone downstairs a couple of times to eat and had spent a little while reading in the library, but beyond that he’d stuck to his room. Finally about to go stir-crazy, Noah decided to venture out again once it got dark outside. He was already dressed in his jeans and the tank top he’d worn at the obstacle course, and he didn’t bother to put on his flip flops. Barefoot, he opened his door and stepped quietly out.
It didn’t take but a moment for him to notice that there was someone standing over by the far window, and he moved closer to see who it was. “Anything exciting out there?” he asked as he paused next to the girl in the long sweater coat.
The sound of Noah's footsteps startled Kiley for a moment, which was silly, considering there were twenty-something other people living in this place and she couldn't expect to be completely alone at any given time. She had been deep in thought, but now that she had company, Kiley found she welcomed it. Maybe this guy would keep her out of her head for awhile.
"Well, I'm pretty sure I saw a UFO," Kiley said, glancing back outside the window. "I thought maybe it would stop by the mansion and abduct me, but no luck. So now I'm just staring outside at the rain and reconsidering all of my life's choices up to this moment, which isn't as whimsy or poetic as it sounds." Arching a brow, Kiley looked over at Noah. "I saw you at the obstacle course, but I have no idea what your name is."
“Maybe a UFO brought us here,” Noah said. He wasn’t serious, but maybe he wasn’t entirely joking either. Nothing that had happened made any logical sense. Nor had they had any choice about it, and he had to wonder what she meant about reconsidering her life’s choices. From what he understood, everyone had been taken at random from all kinds of places. He spent a few seconds glancing out at the rain before looking over at her when she asked his name. “I’m Noah,” he said. “And you are?” Maybe having someone to talk to would resurrect his mood a little.
"Kiley," she said, folding her arms across her chest. "You know, it could be possible. We were all abducted and brought here by aliens. That would explain all this bizarre stuff, and the creepy examination rooms. I can get behind it for sure. Soon we'll all be zapped home and claim we were abducted, and people will all think we're nuts." She tried to smother the smirk that threatened, but was unsuccessful. "Were you probed during your examination? Because if you were, that goes a long way of confirming my theory."
Noah leaned against the other side of the window and smiled at her. “No probing. I was fully awake during that exam, and I would’ve remembered.” He’d been tense and not very happy about the whole thing, but he’d gone along with what had been requested of him. All he could remember thinking was how he wanted to get up and get the hell away from that room. “I’m still trying to come up with a reason why we’re all here that isn’t aliens.” It had been nearly a week and the whole thing was still so peculiar to him. What did his friend and co-owner of the shop think? Had he contacted Noah’s family? Was everyone freaking out?
She shrugged softly, looking back out the window. Maybe tomorrow it would be sunny and she could get outside and explore a little on her own. Or drag someone else with her. Kiley tended to get into trouble when left to her own devices. “They said we were all chosen for a reason, and apparently they wanted a wide range of goody goodies and disobedient losers. I’m not going to ask which one you are, because it seems like everyone’s pretty offended about being labeled.” She turned and looked at Noah more closely now, eyes drifting over him. “I like your tattoos. Are you the guy who got the ink from Them?”
“Thing is, I’ve always fallen somewhere in between,” Noah said, looking mildly perplexed. “All I’ve been doing here is staying on an even keel.” He’d never been overly cautious, but some caution seemed called for in this situation. “Thanks,” he said when she told him she liked his tattoos. He certainly had plenty of them; at least half were visible in the tank top he had on. “Yeah, that was me. Not sure what I’m gonna do with it unless they see fit to give me an iron too.” Not that he was aspiring to be receiving gifts from Them often, but he wouldn’t say no to a means to put that ink to work.
"Seems strange to give you ink but nothing to actually ink people with. Maybe that'll be your next prize for staying on even keel. Then you can ink everyone here with their subject number." Yes, Kiley was being sarcastic, but not in a malicious way, certainly not directed toward Noah. "I guess the silver lining is that the people who didn't get rewarded didn't get punished either. But, hey, if you do end up getting something you can ink people with, count me in. I've only got one tattoo." She lifted her leg out and tugged up her jeans enough to reveal her ankle, and the black birds she had tattooed around it. What's your favorite?" She motioned toward his arms.
Noah snorted, not bothered at all. He generally got on well with sarcastic people, since he could be very much that way himself. “I’m sure people’ll be lining up for that tattoo,” he shot back. He couldn’t imagine that anyone was fond of the subject numbers; he sure as hell wasn’t. When she showed him her tattoo, he said, “One’s definitely not enough. I’ll set you up if I can figure out some kinda technique.” Looking pained when she asked what his favorite tat was, he said, “I can’t pick just one favorite.” It would be like asking someone which child was their favorite, or which pet. How did you answer that question? “I like this one a lot,” he said, turning his left arm upward so she could see the guitar tattooed there.
Kiley would get her subject number tattooed on her somewhere. Why not? This was a freaking crazy experience, and who knew if she would get out of it alive? If she did, she would have a reminder. Or maybe evidence. Something to prove this had happened to her. Tattoos were meant to mean something, right? She lowered her leg and leaned in a bit to look at the guitar on his arm. "That's a nice one," she agreed. "Does that mean you play?"
“Yeah,” Noah said in answer to her question. “I started as a kid, kind of a hobby.” Also because musicians were sexy, right? His ten year old self had been very interested in that part of it, too. He was a decent guitar player, although it wasn’t anything he’d spent much time on lately. “Does yours have any special meaning?” Some people got tats just to have them, and some attributed a lot of meaning and emotion to them. He wasn’t sure where Kiley fell on that scale.
Kiley couldn't play a musical instrument, or sing, to save her life, so she was kind of in awe of people who could. Talented people. She always equated talent with direction. People who knew what they could do, and what they wanted out of life. Kiley was the complete opposite, forever stuck in limbo. She leaned back against the wall and shrugged one shoulder, a faint smile on her face. "Yeah, but it's kind of cheesy. To make a super long, boring story short, I got the birds because I escaped a bad situation. So I think of it as like, flying free. So yeah, cheesy," she repeated, her smile widening. "Of course I've found myself in another bad situation, so I guess my tattoo doesn't mean much right now."
“If it meant something to you, that’s what matters,” Noah said. “Tattoos are kind of like a map, showin’ you where you’ve been, where you wanna go. They might end up meaning something different to you than when you got ‘em.” The philosophical side of him always bled through eventually; maybe that came from being a deep thinker and a former teacher. Who knew? “It’s like art, too.” He grinned. “When I’m eighty, I bet there won’t be much of my body that’s not tatted up.”
She knew he had a point, but Kiley didn't want to settle too much on the meaning behind her tattoo. Things were already stressful enough in this place. Instead, she returned his grin and folded her arms across her chest. "Yeah, well, there's really nothing hotter than tattoos on wrinkly, old man skin," Kiley teased. "But yeah, I totally agree that it's art. I could never do what you do unless people really wanted stick figures and hearts as tattoos. I'm pretty much an expert at drawing those two things."
“Hey,” Noah said, pretending to be offended. “I’ll have you know I’m gonna be the sexiest wrinkled old tattooed man ever.” He didn’t especially care how the tats might look when he was old. He figured that if he ever got there, he wouldn’t be running around showing them off, anyway. Didn’t old people get cold easily? He’d probably be running about in a cardigan sweater all the time. He chuckled at her assessment of her drawing. “You’d be surprised. I had a guy get me to put a whole family of stick figures on him one time, ya know like the stickers you see on the back of cars? Crazy.”
Kiley laughed, although she really couldn't disagree with him. He was kind of sexy, especially with the tattoos. Again, she marveled at the amount of good looking people stuck in this place. Kiley hated being there, but she didn't mind the eye candy. "Those stick figures must have meant a lot to him," she said, amused. "I would have loved to hear the story he had for that one." Or maybe not. People could be super weird. "I bet there's a reason you got tattoo ink, though. Because it seems like such a random reward, considering everything you could probably use more than ink."
“If someone’s got the right vibe, I might ask ‘em,” Noah said of the story behind the stick figure tattoo. “Some people, though, you can tell they wouldn’t appreciate being asked, so I don’t. That dude was one of ‘em.” Being a tattoo artist, he could usually get a feel for the customer right away. It was something that developed over the years, he’d found. He nodded at her speculation over why he’d been given what he had. “Unless they’re planning to follow it up with an iron at some point, yeah. From the second I saw it, it didn’t make sense to me. If it makes sense to them, more power to ‘em.” He smirked.
Kiley tended not to pick up on vibes from anyone. Okay, so that was probably a lie. She tended not to care about the vibes if she wanted to know things. Sometimes she showed restraint, but not often. Since she really couldn't speculate as to why They would have given Noah tattoo ink without any way to actually tattoo someone, Kiley shrugged. They obviously knew what they were doing, even if none of the subjects did. She grinned instead and settled back against the wall. "So do you have tattoos everywhere?" It was probably an inappropriate question, but she didn't care much. Kiley was going to be around these people for who knows how long. Might as well get to know them better.
Noah never shied away from inappropriate questions, and he found himself smiling back at her, his dimples in full evidence. “Not everywhere,” he said with an arched brow. “Thus far I’ve resisted the temptation to tattoo my ass cheeks.” It hadn’t been that much of a temptation honestly, although it wouldn’t be long before he ran out of room on his upper body. “I can show you if you wanna see,” he added. He wasn’t exactly hitting on her, but what was wrong with a little mild flirting on a rainy evening? She’d asked, and so he assumed she actually wanted to know.
Unable to help it, Kiley laughed when he mentioned tattooing his ass. "Eventually you'll run out of space and have to resort to your ass, though. Depending on who gets to do the honors, they'll either be super happy to do it, or super annoyed." She wasn't necessarily hitting on Noah either, but it had been a stressful week, she was restless, and maybe a little lonely. It wouldn't hurt anyone to flirt with a good looking guy. She arched a brow and considered him for a moment, smile still in place. "Show me what? Your ass, or the rest of your tattoos?"
Noah snickered. “Well, I meant the tats, but I can’t say anything’s necessarily off limits if you really wanted to see it. I’m not strippin’ out here, though.” It was getting cold next to the window, so he moved a few feet over to one of the couches and sat on the arm, then pulled his tank top over his head. It was a bit amusing to him to consider what people might think if they came in and saw this, which probably showed that he had a warped sense of humor. He twirled the tank top around and tossed it aside, increasingly amused as he waited to see what Kiley would do.
Pushing away from the wall, Kiley followed Noah to the couches. It was definitely a bit warmer away from the windows and rain now, though she kept her arms crossed against her chest. Her grin widened when Noah pulled his tank top off. Sure, it would probably look questionable to anyone who might happen by and see, but whatever. It wasn't like they were getting naked or anything. Only Noah, and only partly naked. Kiley moved closer so she could get a better look at his tattoos, which she actually did want to see. She wasn't worried about invading his personal space, since he had more or less invited her to do so. Since Noah was the type to think every tattoo had a meaning, or a story, it seemed like he had a ton of stories from his past.
After a moment of examination, Kiley reached out to touch the heart that had Mom written in the middle of it. "This one is my favorite."
Obligingly, Noah spread his knees apart so Kiley could get closer. He’d have to admit he enjoyed showing off his tats; he’d put a lot of thought into them and spent a lot of time getting them, so it was nice for someone to admire them. He turned his arm slightly so she could see the heart better. “Yeah, actually that was my first,” he said. “I knew she was gonna bitch about me desecrating my body, so I thought I’d soften her up some.” His mother was a big fan of the body as nature intended, but even she had gotten used to his tats, given time. They were simply what he did, something that was a part of his personality.
If he didn't mind her being close, then Kiley didn't mind standing between his spread knees. It did look suggestive, but no one was around, and really, who would care? She studied the heart on his arm, not terribly surprised when Noah told her it had been his first. It wasn't a unique tattoo, not really. A lot of people had Mom tattooed somewhere on their body, but it didn't matter. Kiley's mom had ditched her years ago, so she probably should have been bitter about others proclaiming affection for their mothers with permanent marks on their bodies, but she wasn't. In some way, Kiley couldn't really blame her mom for disappearing. Kiley had tried to disappear a couple of times too. "Did it work?" Kiley asked, leaving her hand on his arm for the time being. "Softening her up, I mean."
“I think it kinda worked,” Noah said, keeping his voice pitched low since she was close to him. It was nice to have someone near in this place, even if it was only temporarily. It was a bad place to feel all alone. He used his free hand to idly play with the edge of her sweater, for no good reason besides the fact that the material felt good beneath his fingers. “She quit tellin’ me I looked like I needed a bath every time she saw me.” Not that he’d been around his mom all that much since he’d moved out on his own, but there were always holiday visits, and he’d had at least one new tat, sometimes more, every time he’d gone home. “What d’you think you’d get for your next one?” he asked curiously.
Amused, Kiley laughed a little in her throat, trying to imagine someone's mother telling them they looked like they needed a bath because of tattoos. It didn't sound like Noah was bitter about it, or resentful, so he probably had a good relationship with her. He had to have, considering he had her name inked on his skin. She certainly didn't mind Noah messing with part of her sweater. If her uncle were here, he would have told her to stop flirting with strangers, like he used to when she would cozy up to his bar patrons. The flirtations were meant to be distractions so she could pick pocket with ease, but this wasn't the case. For one, Noah had nothing for her to swipe. It was just a different kind of distraction. It was something normalizing, something that made her feel less alone here, and maybe she needed that right now. Especially since she was starting to believe she probably wasn't going to make it back home in one piece. At Noah's question, Kiley moved her hand from his arm and began to idly trace one of the tattoos on his chest with her fingertip. "That's a good question. I know it's not anything different, but maybe a couple more birds... this is definitely another situation I'd love to fly away from. I'll get them on my collarbone. That would probably hurt a bit, huh?"
Noah’s family had always been rock-solid. It wasn’t their fault that living in Montana hadn’t been his cup of tea. Life got busy, and maybe he hadn’t always visited as much as he should have. He had the feeling he’d be regretting that now that he wasn’t sure if he’d ever see them again. But now wasn’t the time to be thinking about that. He had someone to talk to, and honestly he’d even forgotten that there was the cold eye of a camera trained on them. “It wouldn’t be the most comfy thing ever,” Noah agreed. “Maybe they could be small birds. Or, ya know, some people have better pain tolerance than others. It might not be that bad for you.” Her fingers on his skin were soft and warm, and he found himself concentrating on that, maybe as a memory to call up when things got bad again. And he knew they would.
Kiley had momentarily forgotten about the cameras, although she didn't think she would have been too mindful of them anyway. It wasn't like she was doing anything wrong. Talking to someone new, admiring their tattoos. Or the body that they were inked on anyway, and Noah didn't seem to mind her touching him. Maybe she wasn't being a Wannabe Hero or Taking Charge the way some people in the mansion were doing, but she wasn't setting the damn place on fire either. Kiley figured she was doing what she had to do to get by and not lose her mind. "I have a pretty high tolerance for pain," Kiley said, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. "At least I do when I know the end result will be worth it."
“Yeah, that’s it,” Noah said, nodding agreement. “Even when they hurt, you know what you get’ll be worth the trouble.” He smirked. “I’ve always heard childbirth is like that… luckily I’ll never know about that one from experience.” Thus far, raising small humans hadn’t ever been anything he’d wanted to do. Maybe one day, when he was a lot older and felt like settling down some. Or maybe not, given the current circumstances. “How about this one?” he asked, lifting one arm a little to display the shark on one side.
She couldn't help but wrinkle her nose slightly. "Hopefully I'll never be able to tell you if that's true or not. I don't really see kids in my future at all." Of course, her future was sort of up in the air, considering where she was right now. But it made Kiley feel better to talk that way, as if she could convince herself somehow that everything would be all right, even though deep down she knew better. Kiley tilted her head to the side to look at the shark she had somehow missed before. "A shark." Kiley grinned. "I have to ask why, though. You like the ocean? You're a fan of Jaws? You consider yourself some kind of predator?"
Not everyone was the maternal type, and that was cool. Noah would never be able to envision his ex-wife Jenna with a baby, either. But sometimes people changed. “Well, I do like the ocean,” Noah said, resting his arm on her shoulder so she could view the shark unhindered by it. “But that originated from my best friend when I was a kid, from when we were about three on up. He got started calling me Sharky for some damn reason, nobody even remembers why, and it stuck.” Telling the story again amused him; it was one of his favorites from his childhood. “So it’s in his honor, I guess.”
"Sharky," Kiley repeated, thoroughly amused. She ran her hand down his side, over the tattoo, more as an excuse to touch than anything else. Doing it now, Kiley couldn't recall the last time she touched a guy in a way that wasn't one hundred percent innocent. Was it Trevor? Probably, although their last bout of physical contact had consisted of trying to slap each other before he ditched her. "See, now I really want to know how the hell he came up with that kind of nickname. I bet it has a fun story. No one calls you that anymore?"
Noah definitely wasn’t immune to the touching, since it had been quite a while since anyone had touched him besides himself. It was nice, and he wasn’t about to discourage it. “I wish I remembered what it was, too,” he said. “We used to play with these little plastic fish and animals, and it mighta come from that. I think there was a shark in there somewhere.” Noah wished he could ask his friend. They kept in infrequent contact through social media, but Noah hadn’t actually seen him for more than a decade. So much he’d do differently if he had the chance, now. “But nah, he was the main one who called me that.”
"That would probably make the most sense." Kiley dropped her hand away from the tattoo, though she didn't step back. "Though if you get out of here, you should look him up and ask if he remembers where it came from. Obviously it meant something to you if you got a tattoo in his honor. I don't think I've ever had a nickname. Not an appropriate one, anyway." She glanced down at the ink on his chest. Who knew they were that sexy? Well, these ones anyway. Kiley had been around people with tattoos that had made her cringe in the past. Arching a brow, Kiley lifted her gaze to Noah's face. "You have anymore?"
“I was just thinkin’ that,” Noah said, his expression mildly wistful. “There’s a lot of people I’m gonna look up if I get out of here.” He got the feeling that Kiley was a realist, and he didn’t see the point in trying to pretend he was certain they’d emerge from this mess. He gazed back at her when she made eye contact and asked if he had any more tattoos. “On my back,” he said, his voice soft. “And a couple here.” He used his free hand to trace the area just above his groin, a place that was covered by his sweatpants, of course. “Told you, I’m running out of room.”
Even though some optimistic part of her remained in denial, Noah was right. Kiley was a realist. She didn't want to admit she was scared. That was probably what They wanted to see and hear. Her gaze dropped down to where he motioned, and she found she was unsurprised. And maybe she was curious about what the tattoo was, especially given where it was. Kiley let her gaze linger on his groin for a moment longer than was probably appropriate before she looked up at him again. "If I ask to see it, are you going to think I'm coming onto you?" she asked, eyes shimmering with repressed humor.
“Not necessarily,” Noah said, even though it made him feel a bit warmer all over thinking of showing her those particular tats. “I’m gonna assume if you were coming on to me, I’d know it.” She seemed direct enough, and he generally was too about those situations. “But I’m not anxious to drop trou out in the open. I’d probably ask you to step over to my room.” And yeah, that could sound like a lame and not very well-veiled come on, but it really wasn’t. He’d never be pressurey just because someone happened to be in his room and he wasn’t all the way dressed.
Kiley wondered what most people would think she was doing, if she invaded their personal space and touched their bare skin like she had been doing with Noah. Sometimes it was just a game to her, and she liked that Noah seemed willing to play along. If that was, in fact, what he was doing. Kiley stepped back and took his hand to give it a gentle tug. "Show me your room," she told him, mindful of the fact that they were out in the open, but not terribly worried about the cameras. Kiley flashed him a smile. "I mean, show me your tattoos in your room."
“Okay,” Noah said. There wasn’t any reason he could think of why not. He got up from the couch, still holding on to her fingers, and decided to leave the tank top where it was for the moment. Not like the lounge wasn’t right outside his room; he could get it back at any time. His room was only a few steps away from where they were, and he led her inside and gently shut the door behind them. In his opinion, the rooms were one thing whoever was in charge of this place had done right. Gilded cage, anyone? It was still strange to him how well it suited his tastes. Subtly dramatic in a masculine way, the room looked cozy with darkness outside and only the two bedside lamps on for lighting.
He let go of her hand and flopped onto the bed on his back, then glanced over at her. “What’s yours like?” he asked, suddenly curious. He hadn’t actually visited anyone’s room yet.
Kiley took in the sight of his room. So different from hers. She had only seen one other room in the house so far, other than this one, and Chase's had been decidedly different as well. It had seemed to fit him in a way, just like this room seemed to fit what she knew of Noah, even if that wasn't much. Since she felt like doing it, Kiley climbed onto Noah's bed, laying on her back beside him, finding the mattress extremely comfortable. "It's nice," she told him. "Pretty, but not overly girly, you know? They put these lights on the ceiling, and in my bathroom too. My tub is like, old school claw tub. I like it a lot. It's like, if I had the money to redo my entire apartment, I would have probably chosen the same kind of style, which if you think about it, is super creepy." Kiley looked away from Noah and spotted the camera in the corner of the ceiling. She lifted her hand to give it the middle finger. "I was going to come onto you in here, but now I'm remembering they're going to be able to watch."
“Sounds nice,” Noah mused. “But yeah, it is creepy that they’d know what type of room we’d like most.” He didn’t want to think about how that could be, because it was frightening. Had someone, somewhere spent extensive time studying all of them, finding out things about them before they’d been taken? If they hadn’t, how’d they had any inkling of how to do up the rooms to best effect? This was some crazy shit. He smirked when she gave the camera the finger. “That’s kind of a downer,” he agreed. “But I guess if anyone’s gonna do anything fun eventually, they’ll have to get used to the idea that Big Brother is watching.” He didn’t know that he cared that much. They’d been brought here and imprisoned against their will, so he’d do what he wanted whenever he could, was his theory.
"Really?" Kiley arched a brow and looked over at Noah, somewhat surprised by his thought process. "Not that I disagree with you, but I don't know... you seem like the kind of guy who'd care what they saw you doing." Or maybe she was confusing Noah with Chase. In any case, she liked that he didn't care, or if he did, wasn't about to show Them that he did. Shifting onto her side, Kiley pushed herself up on her elbow to look at him before she glanced down his body. She moved her hand to his hip, where her fingers played with the waistband of his sweatpants. "So then if I come onto you now, it'll just stay between you, me and the Creepers behind those cameras?"
“I guess it’s not that I don’t care,” Noah said. “I used to not care, back about ten years ago. Didn’t care who saw me having sex, didn’t care who saw me without clothes. It’s just… we’re here, nothin’ we can do about it.” He shrugged a shoulder. “We have to live despite who’s watching.” Until they didn’t live, but he wasn’t going there right now. When Kiley turned to look him over and reached for his waistband, he smirked at her question. “Yeah, that’s how it is. Me, you and the creepers.” She might be joking; he had no idea. But it didn’t matter. This was a nice interlude, and he was going to go with it, whatever happened or didn’t happen.
Kiley could understand his thinking, because she was thinking the same thing. It wasn't even that she even felt like she needed to justify what she was doing, because she didn't really care what people thought about her. It was probably an inappropriate response to the situation. A handful of people were out in town, searching for supplies and whatever else, and Kiley was holed up in the bedroom of a guy she'd known less than an hour. No, she wasn't a leader of any kind, or any kind of paragon.
With a sigh, Kiley rested her palm against his hip, because it was warm and solid and the physical contact was something she hadn't realized she had been missing. As badly as she wanted to get laid right then, Kiley knew there weren't any condoms around. She supposed she could throw caution to the wind and make another bad decision in a long line of bad decisions, but Kiley was clinging to that teeny, tiny thread of hope that she would eventually get out of this place. So she looked at Noah and gave him a faint smile. "I really just want to kiss you for a minute. Can I do that?" Her last kiss had been with Trevor, who had been a total douchehat, and if she was going to die in this place, she wanted her last kiss to be a good memory, at least.
As lonely as he’d been for the past while, Noah wasn’t planning to do anything too impulsive. He too was aware of the lack of protection, and he knew it was a bad, bad idea to take that kind of chance in an environment like this. “You can do that,” he said, turning onto his side to be closer to her. She was pretty, and soft and warm, and he discovered that he very much saw the appeal in some kissing. He rested one hand on the swell of her hip, thinking for a moment and then saying, “I don’t expect anything. I know this isn’t, ya know… an ideal circumstance.” He wasn’t wanting her to think that if she kissed him he’d automatically assume it was a green light for other things.
"It's okay, because I'm not really used to ideal circumstances for this kind of stuff, anyway," Kiley told him. And Kiley had never done anything she didn't want to do, so she wasn't concerned about being 'pressured' by Noah, or anyone. Kissing had always been one of Kiley's favorite things to do, even when it didn't lead to anything. Even better that Noah seemed aware that it didn't have to lead to anything. Since she didn't want to do anymore talking, Kiley scooted in closer to Noah's body before leaning in to finally press her lips to his. There was something to be said about human contact and comfort in stressful situations.
Noah’s last kiss had been probably three or four months ago. He’d been busy, maybe a touch antisocial like he tended to get every so often, and fooling around hadn’t been a priority. This was a nice way to break the dry spell. He let one arm settle around her when she shifted closer and brushed his mouth over hers. Soft, warm, not too invasive and yet very enjoyable at the same time. He would have never imagined this would be something he’d do under this set of circumstances, but maybe it was something he needed, a way to feel less alone.
There were definitely people who would judge what Kiley was doing, because her behavior probably wasn't in line with what they imagined it should be in these circumstances. But oh well. Noah's lips were firm, but not aggressive and she was relieved to feel that familiar tingle start up under her skin. Her body warmed almost instantly. Why it was a relief to feel inklings of arousal, Kiley didn't know. Maybe it was proof that she was still alive, despite where they were, and why. Kiley hadn't gone numb yet, and that was something to be thankful for. She kept her hand on his hip and parted her lips to deepen the kiss a little. He tasted nice. He felt nice. It was okay to lose herself in this for a few minutes, even if they were being watched. If Noah didn't care, then neither did she.
Noah had always rebelled against being too ordinary; even if his behavior had been tempered a bit by where they were and what had happened, now he didn’t care about possibly being judged or watched. He couldn’t do anything about that, but this was something he could have, something he could do. It was always intriguing and new to kiss a near-stranger, and Noah went along with it when she opened her mouth to him. His body was definitely getting with the program as their tongues brushed, as the kiss intensified. Noah found himself also feeling pleased that some things stayed the same even in the midst of unease and trauma.
Noah was a good kisser, Kiley had decided. He knew what he was doing, and there was no awkward teeth butting, or slobber, or an aggressive tongue down her throat. Kiley had all but forgotten about the camera watching them, and instead her fingers curled into Noah's skin. Her body was responding favorably to everything, the ache reminding her just how long it had been since she felt anything good. Kiley moved her hand away from Noah's hip to bring it up to the nape of his neck, her fingers pushing through his hair at the back of his head. The longer his lips were on hers, the longer she tasted his tongue, the more her brain shut down, pushing out all of the uncertainty and stress of being where they were. Maybe she ought to just spend all day kissing people in the house to get through this. How was that for a coping mechanism?
Noah’d had a lot of practice over the years, but Kiley wasn’t any slouch either. She was warm and open, and each brush of her lips and swipe of her tongue only served to heat him up a little more. He allowed his body to press very lightly against hers, and he couldn’t really show her the tattoos she’d come in here to see right now, else she’d see something else that was wanting to demand attention. Oh, well, viewing tattoos didn’t seem to be in the plan right now anyway. This was a very welcome distraction, because he found himself not thinking about anything but the immediate here and now, her closeness, her lips.
She didn't mind Noah pressing against her. It was thrilling, actually. Adrenaline was something she only ever felt when she was making out with someone, or stealing something. This felt like a big Fuck You to the Powers that Be, which only made it better. The only downside to it was that Kiley knew if they kept this up much longer, she was going to get really hot, and really bothered, and it was going to be tough to pull away. At least she could take a cold shower if she needed it. Kissing him deep, Kiley felt a moan form low in her throat before she gently pulled away and opened her eyes, a soft exhale of breath leaving her lips. Then she smiled at him, keeping him close. "You're really good at that."
Hot and bothered? Check. Despite the fact that he didn’t mind making out for its own sake, it was time to stop if they weren’t taking it further. “So are you,” he said, his own lips curved in a gentle smile. “It’s nice to have some company, especially pretty and sweet-smelling company.” Still flirting a little, but there was nothing wrong with that. She didn’t seem like the kind of woman who’d take it in a way he hadn’t meant, and that was important. Their situation here was precarious, and it was nice to forget about that for a bit.
Kiley generally wasn't one to lose herself over compliments from some guy, but it did feel nice having someone giving them to her again. She wasn't under any delusions that this make out session was anything more than some much needed physical contact between two people in a rather stressful situation. They didn't know each other well enough to have it mean anything more. Maybe that was more of the allure. Kiley was pure shit at relationships, and getting close to people. This was definitely more her style. "If you ever want company in the future, my room is on the third floor," Kiley told him before leaning in to kiss him again. Then she pulled away and sat up, scooting toward the edge of the bed. Her brain was proud of her, but the ache in her body protested. "I'm going to go before I get to the point where I do whatever it takes to get your clothes off."
“Probably a wise decision,” Noah said ruefully. “I’ll come check out the decor sometime, at least. It’s kinda interesting that everyone’s room is so different.” He slung his legs off the other side of the bed, got up and stretched. He’d walk her to the door and snag his tank top while he was at it; they had few enough clothing choices as it was. He didn’t see the point in losing one half of his available shirts. It felt strange to have to think like that. Noah wasn’t overly into material possessions, but he’d never had so few clothes he had to consciously try to preserve them.
Kiley stuck her tongue out at the camera watching them before she pulled open Noah's door. She had a feeling he would follow her out to get his shirt. Which was a shame, because it meant he would be pulling it back on. "Maybe I'll see you around downstairs for dinner or something," Kiley told him once she was back out in the lounge. The thought crossed her mind to get what little articles of clothing she had and wash them. It had been a couple of days. Then she paused at the couch, biting her lip before she turned back toward Noah and grinned. "Thanks for the distraction. I needed it."
“Hope so,” Noah said, then spotted his shirt and leaned over to get it. He smiled as he straightened back up. “Thank you, too. It was nice.” Pausing next to her, he dropped a kiss on her forehead. It was a little too early to go to bed, but he thought he might read some more of the book he’d borrowed from the study, try to relax.
Nice was a good way to describe it. Nice and more importantly, safe. Kiley smiled a little when Noah kissed her forehead. She rested her hand on his side for a moment before pulling away and starting to make her way out of the lounge. Laundry. Laundry would be yet another distraction. Not one as nice as what had just happened, but Kiley would take what she could get at this point.