[ At some point they make it to bed, leaving a trail of clothing from the living room to Maya's bedroom (and are there seriously more bookshelves in here? Wow.)
When they're finished, covered in a sheen of sweat, exhausted and really fucking satisfied, they worm their ways under the covers.
This isn't exactly how Peter thought their first date would go, and in fact he had planned to not end up in her bed (because he didn't want to send the wrong message? seems sort of moot, now); but here they are, limbs tangled together, basking in that hazy sort of afterglow. He has Maya's head resting against his chest, and he's combating sleepiness by idly tracing the tattoos on her shoulder with his fingertip. ]
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When they're finished, covered in a sheen of sweat, exhausted and really fucking satisfied, they worm their ways under the covers.
This isn't exactly how Peter thought their first date would go, and in fact he had planned to not end up in her bed (because he didn't want to send the wrong message? seems sort of moot, now); but here they are, limbs tangled together, basking in that hazy sort of afterglow. He has Maya's head resting against his chest, and he's combating sleepiness by idly tracing the tattoos on her shoulder with his fingertip. ]
-- We never did get that shooter match going.
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I guess we can take a rain-check.
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Yeah? Maybe I can keep distracting you to put it off. You'd probably kick my ass, anyway.
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[ and she curls closer, pressing a kiss to his bare chest ] But I'd make it up to you.
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Yeah? Can I ask how or does that ruin the surprise?
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Not even a little hint?
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[ And she shifts up to kiss him, long and slow and deep ]
There.
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Well if that's what I've got to look forward to for losing, I'm definitely throwing.
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Consider that thanks for understanding.
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Good. 'Cause I've still gotta hear that rant of yours.
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