ic contact.

[verification]

"Hi, this is Verity. I can't come to the phone right now, so please leave a message. Thanks!"

Comments

[jirk]

[Grumble, grumble, but he heaves himself over her (such an effort) and practically falls off the bed on the other side. Amidst a bit of ow and what the hell and where's the-- oh he manages to find it, and then it's right back under the covers where it's warm and (better yet) occupied by a pretty, half-naked girl. He has two things: the lotion and a piece of chocolate-dipped apple, of which he is clearly eating a second.]

For the record, in a guy's bedroom it would be right beside the bed.

[Therefore easier to acquire, geeze. He holds the apple up for her to take, and settles again across her hips, though he's supporting most of his own weight. He drags the blanket forward so it'll stay over them while he works, supported mostly by the back of his head, and then drags his fingers lightly against the small of her back. He can see pretty decently even in the near-dark, ('thanks, khan') but prefers the sensation of touching her skin.]

I was born in space.

[He says it thoughtfully as he shifts, dumps a dollop of lotion into his hand and then warms it up before smoothing his palm down along her spine. He's not saying it for any especial reason - he knows she's curious about what and where he's from, but that she probably won't ask. So. Volunteering information. Go for it.]

[verification]

Ugh, informative and gross to know. Thanks.

[ Pulling a face at him, he gets his karmic reward as he stumbles over the science books beside her bed. Lotion in-hand when he returns, she keeps an eye on him over a shoulder (it's a nice view, okay) until he turns himself into a human tent (oh no, he's cute) and gets to work, large hands running down the curve of her spine making her wriggle as initial sensitivities rise.

I was born in space. Unsurprising to hear, even if it's nice to get a small influx of extra info on him. She takes it for what it is and hums thoughtfully. ]

Huh, that explains it ... Is that why your eyes are so full of stars?

[ Keeping as serious a face as possible, she shoots him a glance. Jim isn't he only one who can flirt. ]

[jirk]

[He huffs a genuinely amused little laugh as he digs his thumbs in alongside her spine at its base, working up to her shoulderblades.]

Wow. That was pretty cheesy. I'll have to remember it.

[verification]

[ A satisfied grunt is drawn out as his thumbs knead their way higher, rumbling in her chest even when a hand lightly slaps his bent knee at her side. ]

Don't steal all my amazing pick-up lines, you thief. Mmm, trade you for more of this. [ Maybe she'll become one with the bed and just never leave it, that sounds excellent. ] If you were born in space, where do you say you come from? 'Second star to the right and straight on till morning'?

[jirk]

[He works at her shoulders for a time, fingers hooked over her collarbone as he works at the knots of tension with his thumbs.]

Dunno. Never really told anybody before. [Mostly, people just knew. He shrugs, it translates into a slight pressure of his fingers where they are.] I mean, I'm from Iowa. More or less.

[verification]

[ Her shoulders keep trying to work themselves further into his hands, rolling hedonistically. No one ever touches her like this so Verity soaks it up like a sponge, arching her back to try and coax him into touching more. ]

You do look like you're from Iowa.

[ Shaking with laughter into the pillow. ]

[jirk]

[W O W.]

And what's that supposed to mean?

[HE IS DEEPLY HURT OVER HERE you're lucky he likes you enough to start digging at whatever the hell you've done to the muscles situated just south of your shoulder blades because um???]

[verification]

[ Muffling her laughter into the pillow, she gets over her giggles long enough to answer. ]

Jim, you look like you weigh-lift tractors then go majestically running through the corn fields half-naked with your blonde hair rippling in the wind. You're more the American Dream than Captain America.

[jirk]

[Okay, that's definitely better than Uhura's comment about farm animals, it earns an actual guffaw.]

'Captain America'? Please don't tell me that's an actual person that exists.

[verification]

He's called Steve Rogers, he's a superhero. Frozen back in the forties and de-thawed much later, he fought for truth and justice ... he wears a flag, kind of. His shield is cool. Everyone knows who Captain America is in a few worlds, okay.

[ Behind him her knees bend, feet poking him in the back. ]

I met a different multiversal version of him here, he was ... cute. Younger. Very captain-y.

[jirk]

[That is the most ridiculous thi-- you know what, no, some things need to be said outloud.]

That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard.

[Not a lie? Check.]

And hey, I'm captain-y.

[verification]

Well, someone today told me he saved his entire world, so it's all up in the air if you ask me.

[ Nyeah. Verity hums, shrugging so he can feel it under her hands. ]

Mmm, I suppose you are ...

[ Let her debate it since she has no proof, ho hum. ]

[jirk]

[He groans in an exaggeratedly disgruntled fashion and digs the heels of his hands down on either side of her spine.]

Are you trying to get me to stop with the amazing, excellent, sensuous and completely from-the-bottom-of-my-heart generous backrub, or...?

[verification]

No! Nooo, don't stop. [ Verity wriggles in protest, turning her head to rest a cheek on the pillow and somewhat have Jim on her peripheral view. ] Okay, so tell me what it's like being the horribly hot captain traumatizing all your crew with your fantastic hair every morning.

[jirk]

[In a show of utter maturity, he sticks his tongue out at her. And stops long enough to get a second helping of lotion.]

Mornings? Well-- mornings are tricky. I mean, first, I get up and jog around the ship, and then I-- [yeah he is definitely making her regret that comment by talking about all the little specificities of his job description, ha ha. Joke's on you, babe.]

-- Oh, and there are no beverages allowed on the bridge. Just, you know. Common sense. You don't want to have to parley with hostile alien life when you're holding a-- what is it, Starbucks? cup.

[verification]

[ God, she didn't ask for this. Flopping where she is, she snorts as he goes into detail (which she secretly sort of loves, whoops) and waits for him to the point. Any point, gosh. ]

So I couldn't sit at my station and have a latte with a sticky bun, is what you're saying. Wow, that sucks. My captain needs to lighten up. He was my favorite before, but now ...

[jirk]

Anybody ever tell you you're hard to please? You're lucky you're gorgeous. [a pause. and then, blithely] And smart. And funny. And you always smell great. Seriously, what is that. Shampoo, perfume? No idea.

[verification]

Stop that, you can't rack up points with a fantastic massage and your mouth. In some universes we call that overkill.

[ She reaches around to find his arm, tugging him down so she has a Jim!blanket. Shut up with a kiss, captain. ]

[jirk]

I've not yet begun to use my mouth.

[Isn't that how that quote goes??? But he flops down willingly enough, kisses at her shoulder (blech, lotion) and yep, she is getting cuddled.]

[verification]

[ The lotion is his own fault so he gets no sympathy there, even if she rolls around to run her hands up his chest, fingers splayed in their exploration and teeth nipping under Jim's jaw. A little grateful payback. ]

You're a hazard and I just realized that my bed isn't big enough for both of us.

[jirk]

What on Earth do you think pillow forts are for?

[Hi friend. He tilts his head to one side to allow for better access, and settles an arm against her back (the other is pinned somewhere beneath both of them, alas) to ghost his fingertips against her skin.]

[verification]

I don't own more than two pillows, tops. Good luck with that.

[ Burrowing against him away from the edge of the bed, she turns into a tuft of pink hair and long limbs entwined around him with a shiver, inhaling his scent. Mimicking the hand that roams her back, two fingertips trace around his hip which isn't digging into the mattress. ]

You can always come over to stay, Jim. [ Picnic basket or not. ] I like having you around.

[jirk]

That's terrible. You are singularly deprived of all the joy in life.

[And he's buying you some pillows, so dwi. -- Although that next statement is. Cause for a few warning bells? A few. Not enough to really protest, but--]

What, like... on a regular basis?

[verification]

[ His tone makes her laugh, raising her head to look him in the eye. ]

You live a few houses away, Jim. If you want to come over to hang out, it's fine. Just don't throw rocks at my window.

[jirk]

[Okay, that does get him to relax a little. This is officially rebranded Not a Relationship Conversation.

(But he was worried.)]

Well, you know. My bed's bigger.

[just saying.]