thatsamilkshake | Room 407, Thursday Night

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Room 407, Thursday Night

What's worse than naked? Spandex. No, seriously. Spandex with no ice cream. Spandex with boys being weird. Spandex that won't come off and also is confusing and troubling and tiny and blonde and now there needs to be a boy. Right now.

What's better than naked? To be honest, as Merlin hurried her across the hall and into his room Francine was having a hard time coming up (dirty) with an answer to that. ...Or maybe Merlin was just happy to see her.

[OOC: Ahem. See mood.]

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"Yuh-huh." Oh God, don't ask her what she was saying yes to. Like Francine could remember what she said five seconds ago. She just knew faster was better because every third thrust or so was actually hitting someplace that was good for her too. So, you know. More of that.

They could try something else next time! Well, they would if Merlin knew about that. But right now, he was far to involved in this.

He kissed her collar bone messily, not fully aware of anything save for what was going one below his waist. It took a moment, but he managed to drag one hand away from her hip to cup one breast.

Even better. Though if he moved it a little to the left... Maybe she could spontaneously develop telepathy and tell him without having to say it? Aww, screw it, Francine just grabbed for his hand and moved it herself. There. Where there were actual nerve endings and stuff.

That worked perfectly for them! "God--" He choked out, rubbing his thumb over her nipple.

Contrary to the opinion of one Frederick Femur, Francine's breasts were not in fact divine entities, but she'd take the compliment for what it was: nonsense that being with her had driven Merlin to, which was kind of nice, though not as nice as the -- "God..." she agreed -- thing he was doing with his thumb.

He most certainly could keep that up if she kept reacting like that. It was a good incentive plan there.

And, for the fact that it was him, it may be surprising that he was able to multi-task between that and still moving his hips. Though that may be because he couldn't stop if he bloody well tried.

What if she said "Merlin" in that voice, not the growl she stole from parties not to be thought of but just the soft Southern thing? With a great big pause for a gasp of breath between syllables because it was such a hugely long...name. would that work?

It would! Oh, dear god, it would.

Merlin moved his thumb again, a circle all around it idly as he leaned down to pant encouragements that weren't even in English against her collar bone.

"Whzzzht," was about all she was able to come out with at that; it was trying for What's that but lack of air and not really caring what he'd said as long as he didn't stop doing everything he was doing made it just a sort of buzzing sigh as she arched her back a little and tried lifting up her hips to meet his.

Merlin moaned loudly, interrupting whatever it was he was muttering at that. He let go of her breast and put that hand on the small of her back to help Francine sit up. "I--please--"

Up meant closer. Meant the angle changed, meant her legs had to shift, meant, "Jesus wept!" and somewhere Marie Peters frowned and didn't know why. "What? Please what?"

"That," Merlin managed. "That---" Sitting back on his heels, Merlin groaned as this was much, much more... more. Okay, so he was failing at words, but there was something to be said about gravity.

That to Francine, it seemed to be more like a guideline than a law, at this point? Or that when Francine flexed her knees a little to kneel up, and then pressed down against him again, it was suddenly her Best. Friend, Ever?

Well, second best friend.

God help them if they were shown any other positions. It would end in broken limbs or noses. Again.

But this.. this was perfect for Merlin. He pulled her closer, kissing her jaw in a horribly distracted attempt to reach her lips.

She'd probably try to laugh and break someone's rib if Francine realized he wasn't aiming for her jaw in the first place, but she didn't and so it was just one more heated touch on skin already in sensory overload, and she looked on it and found it good.

Except the looking part, that was figurative, since she ended up tossing her head back to give him better access to...wherever he felt like kissing.

Well. Since she was offering. Merlin picked a spot low on her neck, sucking on the skin there in some odd attempt at marking her.

But that was still less important than his hands on her hips again, helping her up and then back down.

Maybe less important to him. To Francine it felt kind of like he'd stuck his tongue in a light socket first, before sucking on her skin. The help was necessary if he wanted her not to fall off while her brain was busy melting.

Then it may be bad that he added a gentle bite to the spot as well. He had certainly liked it on his ears, after all...

Merlin tried to remember to breath as he drove up in shallow thrusts, something was building far too quickly like this.

Yes, that qualified as bad. In that Special way of theirs, where it was so good that anything Francine possessed resembling balance flew off somewhere over her left shoulder, and the next time she pushed -- okay, ground down against him, whoooph, over they toppled.

Not, by some miracle of modern science or ancient magic, off the bed. Just to the mattress and one side, Francine's back to the wall now, legs still wrapped around him.

They could still manage this on their sides! Hopefully!

Merlin only paused for a moment before driving forward again, leaning closer still for a kiss. "Francine..."

Okay, so lesson number one to take away from this experience would be 'Against the wall is fine but don't throw your head back, dumabass.' Oh well. Francine heard little birds flying around her most days anyway.

"Mmm-hmm." Lesson number two, though, was much better, and consisted of the word leverage and Francine pushing off against the wall to slam against him.

Merlin groaned, panting against the new bruise on her neck. "God--Francine," He managed, thrusting forward again a little harder.

The rhythm was wrong there, just for a second, leaving her flat against the wall when he thrust into her, instead of coming to him, but wrong was right in that case because it meant he rubbed against her when they came together and, "oh my God THAT. That that that."

"Uh-huh," Merlin agreed dumbly. "Just do---that again."

Even if he wasn't quite able to come up with a normal rhythm at all right now.

Francine didn't need a lot of encouragement to do that again, because it felt goddamn wonderful when there was pressure there and she rubbed against him like that and askjdhhkjhkljh;aisuidga;suh98y[8y;oij. Like that. "Uh-huh, uh-huh, yeah, that yeah." So eloquent.

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