[This is stupid. He shouldn't be so worried. Kate is fine, she's here, she's alive, there's no reason to get all upset over something that never happened. And yet, here he is, something dull and heavy in his chest. She touches his cheek, and he unconsciously leans into it, reaching up with his hand to grasp her hand.]
What if he had hit harder? I...I didn't react quickly. He had you down before I could even move. [He feels his eyes almost burning, like he wants to cry.] I just...I don't know. I can't stop thinking about it.
[She leans forward, resting her forehead against his gently and closing her eyes. Now that the adrenaline is gone, she's exhausted, and she has to fight to urge to simply curl up against him.]
You'd better not beat yourself up over this. I didn't move fast enough, either.
[A part of him wants to shake her, tell her that she shouldn't be out and about, she shouldn't pick fights she can't win. Another part wants to just hold her in his arms and stay like that forever, and forget the chaos of the world around them. And yet another part shudders at how close she is. He really could just lean forward a little...]
[He gulps.]
I'm not trying to. [But he is. He killed a man for her, and if given the chance to repeat it again, he'd do the same thing. Her safety is far more important than anything in this world.]
Kate, I...
[He moves his hand to clutch her shoulders. He feels like he's in a daze - there are so many things he wants to say, but he's scared to say them. She's so close, and he just wants to finally blurt out the truth, but...what if she doesn't feel the same way? But what id she does? He has to let her know just how important she is. He has to let her know.]
[Finally, he speaks up, his tone restrained.]
Kate...you know I'd do anything to keep you safe, right?
[She lets her hand drop in favor of looping her arms around his waist, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes.]
I want to keep you safe, too, but I'm choosing to do this. I would be a coward if I stayed home when I knew I could help. You can't make me your responsibility.
[All he's thinking about is how she's here, arms around him, and by the Mother Tree, she looks too beautiful for words. All his hesitations feel like they're burning away the more he looks into her eyes, like they're just ash in the wind.]
I know. Kate, I know, just...I want to make you my responsibility.
[A pause. He feels like his heart is beating in his ears.]
I want you.
[And with that, he finally gives in, leaning to close the distance with a kiss.]
[It isn't as though Kate hasn't guessed at his feelings, it's just that things keep getting in the way. She isn't usually one to hesitate, but most of the time it's like they barely have time to think with everything going on. As soon as he presses his lips against hers, though, she kisses him back as easily as breathing, tension she didn't realize she was holding onto easing from her shoulders, even as her heart skips a beat. It's a pleasant feeling, exhilarating, and she presses close instinctively, relaxing against him.]
[He's been too obvious for too long, but he's always found something to hold it back. Now, he doesn't have to. She returns his kiss and doesn't pull away, and he feels elation running through his veins. He's hers. She's his. They're together, finally, in a way that Steinbeck has been craving for far too long.]
[He deepens the kiss, too excited to stop, and pulls her in closer - he might be shirtless, but he doesn't care. He'll bare it for her, scars and all.]
[Kate lets out a soft, pleased sound, more than willing to follow his lead. She trails a hand down his back, light and experimental, the pattern of scars almost lace-like under her fingers. He deepens the kiss and she tries to slow them down just a little, her movements languid, because the last thing she wants is to pull away but her head is still just a bit fuzzy and she's sore all over. It doesn't matter, though, because this is... nice. Nice in a way she hasn't experienced since the rioting started, and nice in a way she desperately needs right now.]
[He feels her bringing him back to a slower pace, and he's fine with that - it's true, he's getting ahead of himself. He's too eager for this, too desperate for this contact, and she's still hurt.]
[One hand goes to the back of her head, fingers brushing through her hair slowly - he pulls away momentarily, breathless, his voice quiet:]
I'm not hurting you, am I? [He breaths, bending in to steal another kiss, quickly.]
Ah, well, I'd say yes, but let's not make a habit of that.
[He chuckles at that, giving her a quick, sweet kiss on the cheek. A sweet kiss for an equally sweet girl. When he draws back, though, he smirks, almost looking mischievous.]
Hey, time flies when you're having fun, right? [His calloused hands gladly move forward with her tug, fingers pressing gently on her hips.]
I'm sure we'll make it work. [He sighs, pressing his lips against her jawline. She's so soft, really. He's all scarred, his skin rough, but she isn't like that.] It's not like we're busy 24/7, are we?
[Kate feels a tiny twinge of guilt, just for a second. She should be out helping, but then he presses his lips to her jaw and that disappears as she sighs, tilting her head slightly to give him more room. She's hurt, and she's not going to be much help anyway. They can stay, just for a bit.]
I guess I can try to find some time for you.
[She reaches up to brush her fingers through his hair gently.]
[She really is in no state to be out in the riots like this. He won't let her. As long as he can be here, keeping her safe, he doesn't care about what they have to do. This is what matters, here and now.]
I would love to make you feel better. [He says, kissing all the way down to stop before he reaches her clavicle.]
You're feeling okay for that, though? [He doesn't want to make things worse if he can.] We could always do this when you're feeling better.
[Kate shivers slightly as he moves down her neck, then shifts forward to pull herself into his lap, settling her knees on either side of his hips, her voice breathless and teasing.]
[It's pretty clear she has no qualms with moving forward. He shudders. They're so close. He lets out a sigh, glancing upwards as his fingers shift over her hips to the edge of her shirt.]
That so? [He smiles, his eyes narrowing in an amused, delighted look as he slips his fingers under her shirt, pressing against the skin there for a moment before he starts to slide his hands up, slowly.] Guess I'll just have to be careful, then.
[He says, quietly, gladly lifting his chin with Kate's gesture to kiss her. He savors it, the feeling of her lips against his, and his fingers travel, up, up, until they reach the edge of her bra strap. He follows it around to her back, aiming to unhook it.]
[Kate breaks the kiss just long enough to pull back slightly, tugging her shirt up over her head and tossing it to the side before kissing him again, more heated this time as he unhooks her bra. She slips out of that too, soaking in the feeling of his bare skin against hers and running her hands down his sides, slow and steady, as though trying to memorize every dip and scar.]
[He has to just take a moment to just take the sight of her in - no matter what, he thinks she's beautiful, but without her shirt it's like he's under a spell. His hands slide back over to her front, fingers drifting over her breasts as he gladly returns the kiss.]
[He starts to push into the kiss with his tongue as he starts to lean into her, a way to try to get her to fall back onto the bed.]
[Her breathing catches when his hands start to drift, and she lays back readily, trying to tug him down with her. She breaks the kiss again, this time dipping down to press her lips against his neck, teeth grazing softly against his skin. It's getting blessedly hard to think about anything other than pressing as close to him as possible, and she can hear her breathing getting a little ragged.]
[That's good. He hisses at the teeth against his neck, far more into the possibility of pain than he'll ever admit. She's underneath him, beautiful as can be, and he's intoxicated.]
[His mind brushes over the fact that, in this house, there's a sink with robes he was washing blood out of. He killed a man, before he brought Kate here. And he, honestly, doesn't care. It spurs him on, gives him a morbid feeling of delight that he's here, alive, ready to make love to a girl he's adored for so long.]
[He's pressing his hips against her now, already clearly aroused judging by the slight bulge in his pants. Steinbeck moves a hand up around her breast, rubbing against her nipple in slow, gentle circles.]
[If Kate were thinking clearly, she'd say they shouldn't be doing this. There's too much going on, too many people to help with the Company running rampant through their city, but in this moment, she wants him more than she wants anything else. Maybe it took a concussion and a near death experience to get them here, but she's not going to squander it.
She wants to hear that reaction again, so she nips at the skin of his shoulder this time, still gentle and experimental but far more confident. Then he's pressing his hips into hers and his hand is on her breast, and it coaxes a moan out of her, more needy than she expected it to sound. Kate slides her hands down, hooks her thumbs under the waistband of his pants.]
[There's a growl at the edge of his voice as he removes the hand from her breast to reach down, unzipping his fly and pushing his pants and underwear down. He shifts back momentarily to pull them both off before moving back over her.]
[He bends down for another kiss, lowering his body down in an effort to get as much contact and closeness as possible. His voice is low, needy:]
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[This is stupid. He shouldn't be so worried. Kate is fine, she's here, she's alive, there's no reason to get all upset over something that never happened. And yet, here he is, something dull and heavy in his chest. She touches his cheek, and he unconsciously leans into it, reaching up with his hand to grasp her hand.]
What if he had hit harder? I...I didn't react quickly. He had you down before I could even move. [He feels his eyes almost burning, like he wants to cry.] I just...I don't know. I can't stop thinking about it.
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[She leans forward, resting her forehead against his gently and closing her eyes. Now that the adrenaline is gone, she's exhausted, and she has to fight to urge to simply curl up against him.]
You'd better not beat yourself up over this. I didn't move fast enough, either.
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[A part of him wants to shake her, tell her that she shouldn't be out and about, she shouldn't pick fights she can't win. Another part wants to just hold her in his arms and stay like that forever, and forget the chaos of the world around them. And yet another part shudders at how close she is. He really could just lean forward a little...]
[He gulps.]
I'm not trying to. [But he is. He killed a man for her, and if given the chance to repeat it again, he'd do the same thing. Her safety is far more important than anything in this world.]
Kate, I...
[He moves his hand to clutch her shoulders. He feels like he's in a daze - there are so many things he wants to say, but he's scared to say them. She's so close, and he just wants to finally blurt out the truth, but...what if she doesn't feel the same way? But what id she does? He has to let her know just how important she is. He has to let her know.]
[Finally, he speaks up, his tone restrained.]
Kate...you know I'd do anything to keep you safe, right?
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[She lets her hand drop in favor of looping her arms around his waist, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes.]
I want to keep you safe, too, but I'm choosing to do this. I would be a coward if I stayed home when I knew I could help. You can't make me your responsibility.
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[All he's thinking about is how she's here, arms around him, and by the Mother Tree, she looks too beautiful for words. All his hesitations feel like they're burning away the more he looks into her eyes, like they're just ash in the wind.]
I know. Kate, I know, just...I want to make you my responsibility.
[A pause. He feels like his heart is beating in his ears.]
I want you.
[And with that, he finally gives in, leaning to close the distance with a kiss.]
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[He deepens the kiss, too excited to stop, and pulls her in closer - he might be shirtless, but he doesn't care. He'll bare it for her, scars and all.]
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[One hand goes to the back of her head, fingers brushing through her hair slowly - he pulls away momentarily, breathless, his voice quiet:]
I'm not hurting you, am I? [He breaths, bending in to steal another kiss, quickly.]
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[She's a little breathless, too, but she's smiling, leaning forward to rest her forehead against his.]
Do I get to make out with you every time I get a concussion?
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[He chuckles at that, giving her a quick, sweet kiss on the cheek. A sweet kiss for an equally sweet girl. When he draws back, though, he smirks, almost looking mischievous.]
How about we make out any time we want, then?
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Any time we want? I don't think we'll get anything done, but I'm not complaining.
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I'm sure we'll make it work. [He sighs, pressing his lips against her jawline. She's so soft, really. He's all scarred, his skin rough, but she isn't like that.] It's not like we're busy 24/7, are we?
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I guess I can try to find some time for you.
[She reaches up to brush her fingers through his hair gently.]
Want to try to make me feel better?
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I would love to make you feel better. [He says, kissing all the way down to stop before he reaches her clavicle.]
You're feeling okay for that, though? [He doesn't want to make things worse if he can.] We could always do this when you're feeling better.
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Be careful. I'm delicate.
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[It's pretty clear she has no qualms with moving forward. He shudders. They're so close. He lets out a sigh, glancing upwards as his fingers shift over her hips to the edge of her shirt.]
That so? [He smiles, his eyes narrowing in an amused, delighted look as he slips his fingers under her shirt, pressing against the skin there for a moment before he starts to slide his hands up, slowly.] Guess I'll just have to be careful, then.
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Hey, don't be too careful. You have to keep things interesting.
[And then she slips a finger underneath his chin, trying to tilt his head up to kiss him again.]
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[He says, quietly, gladly lifting his chin with Kate's gesture to kiss her. He savors it, the feeling of her lips against his, and his fingers travel, up, up, until they reach the edge of her bra strap. He follows it around to her back, aiming to unhook it.]
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[He starts to push into the kiss with his tongue as he starts to lean into her, a way to try to get her to fall back onto the bed.]
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[His mind brushes over the fact that, in this house, there's a sink with robes he was washing blood out of. He killed a man, before he brought Kate here. And he, honestly, doesn't care. It spurs him on, gives him a morbid feeling of delight that he's here, alive, ready to make love to a girl he's adored for so long.]
[He's pressing his hips against her now, already clearly aroused judging by the slight bulge in his pants. Steinbeck moves a hand up around her breast, rubbing against her nipple in slow, gentle circles.]
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She wants to hear that reaction again, so she nips at the skin of his shoulder this time, still gentle and experimental but far more confident. Then he's pressing his hips into hers and his hand is on her breast, and it coaxes a moan out of her, more needy than she expected it to sound. Kate slides her hands down, hooks her thumbs under the waistband of his pants.]
Get these off already.
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[There's a growl at the edge of his voice as he removes the hand from her breast to reach down, unzipping his fly and pushing his pants and underwear down. He shifts back momentarily to pull them both off before moving back over her.]
[He bends down for another kiss, lowering his body down in an effort to get as much contact and closeness as possible. His voice is low, needy:]
I want you so bad, Kate.
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