[ He makes a quiet sound of approval, as he leans in for another kiss. His own hands coast along her bare skin, once the dress is gone, and his touch is gentle, like he's afraid she might break (and maybe he actually is, considering what's happened). ]
[ The fact that he treats her like she's made of porcelain bothers her. She very nearly breaks away to tell him she's not fragile, but... well, she is now. At least she's not as strong as she once was.
It's something both of them are going to have to get used to.
She deigns not to dwell on it in favor of pulling his shirt off over his head. ]
[ Jeez, Maya, you could've just asked, but now a certain Peter Quill is divested of one (1) shirt, and he starts pulling her toward the tub, because, seriously, that blood on her back, dried and flaking, is a serious mood killer. ]
[ dryly: ] Ah, yes, I could see how you would think that.
[ She takes his hand for support and steps into the tub, unable to help the little sigh of relief as the warm water soothes her aching muscles ] Oh, this is heavenly.
[ He steps in, finally, and-- yeah, okay, it does feel nice. Hot water at long last.
(His own scrubbing session from the night before was quick and clinical -- a basin and a few washcloths. Scrub off the blood and dirt, leave as little of it behind as possible.)
So-- this is nice, but. He's sort of at a loss as to what to do now. ]
[ She can feel his eagerness, and it's taking a great force of will not to reciprocate and send them both spiraling into a frenzy like the last time. Instead, he zeroes in on his nervousness, tilting her head at him.
The motion is distinctly less bird-like, and definitely more human. ]
[ he nods once before he closes the short distance between them, lips pressing against her throat. Still gentle and tentative, if only because he's slightly self-conscious now. His hands move from her hips, on raising to cup her cheek (sorry to get your hair wet, Maya) , the other resting at her waist. ]
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It's something both of them are going to have to get used to.
She deigns not to dwell on it in favor of pulling his shirt off over his head. ]
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I hope you're not planning on hopping in there while you're still half-dressed.
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Oh, and thanks for not ripping my shirt this time. [ Yep, he's full-on smirking this time. ]
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You're not going to let me live that one down, are you?
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[ He's holding out a hand to help her in. ]
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[ She takes his hand for support and steps into the tub, unable to help the little sigh of relief as the warm water soothes her aching muscles ] Oh, this is heavenly.
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Should I give you and the hot water some privacy?
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[ and she just sort of pouts, sinking down into the water until it covers half her face and she blows pouty little bubbles at him ]
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Because he laughs. ]
I mean, I can come back later, if you want. I don't mind.
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Just get in here already.
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(His own scrubbing session from the night before was quick and clinical -- a basin and a few washcloths. Scrub off the blood and dirt, leave as little of it behind as possible.)
So-- this is nice, but. He's sort of at a loss as to what to do now. ]
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Nice of you to join me.
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UH.
HI.
His hands settle on her hips, and he swallows, a weird mix of nervous and eager. ]
Figured you might get a little too lonely in here.
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The motion is distinctly less bird-like, and definitely more human. ]
Why are you nervous?
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Just-- new territory, is all.
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We can take it slowly, if you'd prefer.
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If that means you basically torture me like this, then no thanks.
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Very well, then. You set the pace.
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