weaponwithoutpurpose

weaponwithoutpurpose

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From:

weaponwithoutpurpose

Same to you. [He moves aside to let her in and slings an arm around her shoulder.

Hes picked up his cabin, for the most part, and Mae is sleeping happily in her crate.]

From:

handleyourshit

She looks around, because she always does, and slips her pack to the floor by the door. She offers him one of the oranges, and then uses that hand to hook around his over her shoulders.

"Come sit with me, tell me more about this encounter with this girl. Only what you're comfortable with, but: what'd she use? Did you like it?"

From:

weaponwithoutpurpose

The only difference in his room now is the picture Norton had restored for him. It's a sketch of praying hands atop his dresser.

He joins her, leaning back on his elbows.

"I didn't hate it," he says. "She used uh - those fuzzy handcuff things. Didn't like that cuz I knew they'd break if I tried anything. But she was into it and I just wanted to get laid."

From:

handleyourshit

"You would've preferred something more secure rather than something you could get out of?" she asks, a little surprised by that.

From:

weaponwithoutpurpose

"Not with her. Not then. But if I'm gonna do something, I don't want to be thinking too hard about not moving my hands and accidentally breaking her shit," he laughs.

From:

handleyourshit

"We don't have to do anything," she says, just to have said it. She tucks one leg under herself, settles close enough to his hip to lean against him or vice if she wants, but facing.

"I'm - perfectly happy getting laid. Nothing wrong with that." And nothing wrong with continuing.

"But I do have some ideas. If you wanted to experiment a bit more - just the two of us, or the three of us. Or if you wanted to run something past me for you and Astarion." Since he said he was worried about doing something stupid.

From:

weaponwithoutpurpose

He rests his hand on her leg. "Never really thought about it. Sex was just - a way to get off, you know? Nothing really to it. But - you two just - I don't know. Make it fun. So I'm open to trying things."

From:

handleyourshit

"Good."

That's important. Whatever else is true, that's important.

"I just - think trust is a weak point for all three of us. And there are ways to build it in small or big ways with sex, which is... easier. Mostly."

From:

weaponwithoutpurpose

"Less for me, I think. I don't get fucked over by people the way you two did," he explains because his awareness of his own situation is still murky at best.

"I just - don't know my own place sometimes."

From:

handleyourshit

The corner of her mouth quirks, but she doesn't argue; that's the beauty of something as simple as intimate surrender like she's talking about. He'll feel it or he won't. It'll build or it won't. That's all.

She drapes one arm over his on her leg, her other braced lightly against him, thumb stroking idly.

"Want to try an experiment?"

From:

weaponwithoutpurpose

His breath catches in his chest for a moment, the movement making his brain stutter step.

"Yeah," he says, looking down to their hands and then her face.

From:

handleyourshit

His reaction, the strength of it, makes her smile - and there's coy mischief underlying it.

"Good," she says, and looks around them in the room before pulling away to stand.

"What's your safeword?" She doubts they'll need it, but she wants to establish the exit strategy early, often, and well.

From:

weaponwithoutpurpose

He watches her move, tilting his head as he thinks. He's obviously never thought about it, but he finds one on the fly.

"Uh - Zulu." Easy to remember.

From:

handleyourshit

"Zulu," she echoes, ending up shrugging off her outermost shirt. It's a lightweight buttondown, well worn, and she spends a moment folding it over and over itself with the long sleeves like tails in her hands, but pauses to focus on him for one more moment.

She cups the side of his face, fingertips holding his jaw gently but firmly so their eyes can meet, thumb stroking his cheek.

"Any time, for any reason, no questions asked and no foul. Yeah?" she says seriously, dark eyes searching his.

From:

weaponwithoutpurpose

He reaches up to put his hand over hers.

"Yeah," he tells her honestly. "I got it."

From:

handleyourshit

"Good."

She lingers a moment more, then leans forward the short distance to kiss him, deliberate and slow.

When they break, she straightens up and then lays the makeshift blindfold across his eyes, tying the sleeves securely behind.

"Can you see at all?" she asks, adjusting how an edge here or there lays to make sure it's both comfortable and effective.

From:

weaponwithoutpurpose

The blindfold goes over his eyes and he doesn't pull away, but stiffens immediately until he takes a breath.

"I'm alright," he says in the same tone he had used with Astarion when they first tried switching. He's alert but not nervous, relaxed without being entirely comfortable just yet.

"And uh...no." He looks around, but the blindfold is efficient enough.

From:

handleyourshit

She did worry, a little; she doesn't know a lot of Jacob's history, and what she does know means she wouldn't be surprised if he had some negative associations with this.

But the trust has to go both ways, so she watches carefully when he stiffens and when he says he's okay, she murmurs, "Good," and steps back.

She pulls a chair out into the center of enough space for her to be able to walk around it, and then returns to him, taking his hand. "Follow me," she bids him, tugging him to his feet and guiding him to sit in it.

"You can talk, and ask questions. You can react, but your hands stay where I put them. Alright?"

From:

weaponwithoutpurpose

He takes her hand and stands, picking his way across the floor until he meets the chair. Sitting gives him a little more grounding, and he's able to laugh a bit at the command.

"Yes ma'am." The nerves are still there, but this sounds like a game he really wants to play. And that excitement supercedes worry.

From:

handleyourshit

"You're a natural," she purrs, voice warm as she considers him. She ends up staying in front of him, reaching to guide his hands up to settle, for now, on her hips.

Her own reach back up to card through his hair, a familiar enough touch for them both, giving him time to settle and be able to be more curious than anxious. She keeps the motion smooth, repetitive and predictable, deviating only to brush his jaw or the side of his neck idly, watching his face closely for cues in these early moments.

"Doing alright?" she asks, quiet, encouraging, after a few lazy minutes.

From:

weaponwithoutpurpose

He's settling more and more with each movement of her fingers through his hair, and he lets out a breath. He's happy enough to keep his hands still, brushing this thumb along the bump of her hip bone.

"I'm alright. Feels - weird. Not bad. Just - like I'm not doing enough. For you."

Jacob is most comfortable being in the background. Helping and supporting. The attention focused on him makes him antsy, but the blindfold actually does wonders.

From:

handleyourshit

"You're doing plenty for me," she assures him, smiling. He has his hands on her so he'll feel her bend forward a bit, but she doesn't give him time to guess much before she's letting the ends of her hair tickle against his cheek, her voice low and velvet, her breath hot right in his ear when she says, "You gave me all of you to do whatever I want with. Didn't you?"

She reaches up to scoop his hands up then, setting them on his own thighs before stepping back and starting a slow circuit clockwise around him.

From:

weaponwithoutpurpose

He turns his face towards her, catching the scent and feel of her hair with a thrill through his chest.

He keeps his hands down, but he's remarkably alert and attuned to her position, his body anticipating the next touch.

From:

handleyourshit

She doesn't touch him at all, nothing more than the sound or shadow of her passing for two, three revolutions.

On the fourth she trails her arm extended behind her, so the tracing of her fingertips across the line of his shoulders comes right to left when she's almost back in front of him already.

"I've dabbled a little," she offers, almost idly; also, by this point, probably unnecessarily. She's toying with the top button on his shirt, tossing the tails of her makeshift blindfold out of her way, but doesn't undo anything. She hooks a finger under his belt at the front of his hip, tugs up lightly, drops away.

"Enough to know a few things I like. Not enough to be bored."

From:

weaponwithoutpurpose

She touches him finally and he feels a pleasant shudder fall along his back. Oh - he's in trouble, he thinks, and he doesn't want to be anywhere else.

He raises his hand, just slightly, then stops himself before returning it down to its original position.

"Yeah? What do you like?"