If you could, I wouldn't be doing my job right, would I?
[There's no sign of ticklishness; she doesn't so much as twitch. But along the right side of her ribcage, he'll feel the telltale sign of something small and rigid: exactly the way a sheath for a small knife would feel.
Her eyes briefly flick down to his hand, then back up to meet his.]
[True to her word, there's no slit to be found, nor any other alterations: it's a regular dress, and a regular knife, both on a very weird woman.]
Knife's a last resort anyway. I carry a gun a lot and I'm good at hand-to-hand, so if I'm going for a knife hidden under a cocktail dress, I've got bigger problems than a wardrobe malfunction. But...
[She watches his finger tracing the fabric, and arches an eyebrow.]
Fun, eh? You said I could decide where to put it if I found it, too. Which, my only request is not in me. I’ve been stabbed for less.
[But that’s all said noncommittally. The real game was in being allowed to get so close. He lingers for a moment on his knees, thumb ghosting over it one more time.]
You’re well-prepared then, a couple weapons and martial arts under your belt. Though, I can’t imagine any of that will be very relevant tonight…
[He hauls himself off the floor and takes a seat next to her.]
[Shaw will be good and resist the urge to make any sort of joke or reference to weaponplay - out loud, anyway. No sense in risking scaring the guy off.]
Don't worry - no knives in you. And if we end up anywhere else...
[She rakes her gaze up and down his torso, eyes eventually coming to rest on his mouth.]
…Good to hear. I’m rather tired of getting stabbed much more than strictly necessary these days. I’m not a young man anymore.
[Likewise, he stifled his own swordplay joke for similar reasons.]
[He’s observant, and this is far from his first rodeo. He can see her looking him up and down. It’s forward for a woman, perhaps- but he’s not unused to that. And besides, he appreciates and approves of that approach. ]
As you wish.
[His eyes play on her drink for a moment. She hadn’t had much of it yet, but they were still moving apace- She clearly knew what she wanted and he admired that.
And could tell when someone was getting at something. He rests his arm behind her and sits up away from the couch as he turns more towards her. He bounces his brows as he tilts his head, beginning a lean in for a kiss.]
[Shockingly, this is Shaw being demure: forward, for her, would have meant kissing him while his hands were still on her, and straddling his lap just a few minutes after. But they're in public, and in a place that's semi-respectable; she won't go that far.
Well. She won't go that far yet, anyway.
When he makes the first move, there's no hesitation: she leans in herself and closes the distance between them, curling her fingers into his shirt collar and sealing her mouth to his. Honestly, it's been far too long since she's made out with someone in a bar. Thank god for the chance to rectify that.]
[He would have been receptive to it, though they had less than an entire conversation before deciding to link up.]
[One arm closes in and goes around her shoulders, the other onto her knee as he reciprocates the kiss. He tastes like liquor and smoke, smells like it too- ]
[He’s a decent kisser and mindful of himself. His scruff is kept short as not to be unruly, but long enough that it tends not to scratch. His lips are a little dry from the weather, so he wets them with a swipe of his tongue. ]
[It hadn’t been terribly long since he made out with a new acquaintance, but it had been months since he had attempted to court a woman. But he does enjoy it and the way it makes him feel. Part of him tells himself that he’s too old for her and he silences it at once.]
[He only breaks the kiss to catch his breath and look at her from beneath his lashes.]
[Shaw, too, clearly knows what she's doing; even though it's been a while for her (being held in captivity by one's enemies for nearly a year really puts a damper on things), there's still an easy confidence to the way she moves. While the fingers of one hand keep their grip on Cid's collar, she feels free to let the other hand roam, enjoying the feeling of his muscles as she trails her hand across his shoulders and down his back. She also spends the time inching closer and closer to the edge of her stool - it's lucky she has good balance, or she'd be at risk of tipping off of it.
She doesn't look away when he pulls back, her eyes dark with interest.]
You got a place around here?
[She murmurs, not backing up more than a few inches.]
I’ve been known to have a decent idea now and then.
[He stands, moving to the door behind the bar, and opening it like he has any right. Still, he does it with total confidence. He peers in and peeks around, eyes adjusting to the dim light.]
Looks like there’s an office, maybe…
[As he goes through another door into precisely that- A small office with a desk, a clunky 90’s computer, and a couch.]
[The couch gets a glance, but only so that she can properly orient herself in relation to it; with the desk covered in things that they should probably try to be careful around (tragic), the couch seems like the only viable landing place. Though up against the wall is tempting, too...
The moment he has the door locked, she's on him, wrapping a leg around his hip for leverage as she cranes her neck up to reach his mouth. She's a short woman; she's learned how to make do with taller people.]
[Cid is almost surprised about the way she jumps him as soon as the door is closed. But he’s not one to sit around with his guard down, struggling. He adjusts, taking the underside of her thigh into his hand to help her stay steady as he meets her lips.]
[His blood runs hot as he weighs their options, flipping through the same few as Shaw is, though he includes the floor and the chair as well.]
[He guides her ass to the desk, leaning them over as they kiss so he can shove all the stuff on it to the side. Some of it falls off the desk- but it’s probably fine. None of it actually belonged to anyone anymore, right?]
What’s the matter, got somewhere to be?
[He teases her as he tugs a glove off with his teeth. He then pushes the skirt of her dress up towards her hip with a bare hand- warm and calloused as he leans in to kiss her again. ]
[She murmurs against his mouth, though she's grinning as she says it. As he hikes up her dress (revealing lacy lingerie; she'd come prepared by foregoing her typical briefs), she's busy working at the clasp on his pants, her breath catching juuuuuuust a little at the feeling of those callouses on her bare skin.]
And don't feel like you have to go any easier on me than you did on all that stuff you just shoved around.
[He shouldn't go any rougher than his comfort levels, of course, but she has a good idea of where her own boundaries are, and they're pretty high.]
I can put it back together if they did. [He sounds confident enough by the surety in the tone of his voice.]
You like it rough, eh?
[His thumb brushes along the front of the lingerie, following seams and hems downward until he can really feel her. He palms her, pressing and massaging her through the lingerie as he rests his forehead against hers to actually look at what he’s doing.]
[He chuckles, deep and curious as she unfastens the front of his trousers. He’s more than half-hard already, his cock tenting his boxers enough to give a sneak peek of it through the fly.]
…Likewise. I can take quite a bit of punishment, eh? I might not be young anymore, but I’m made of sterner stuff.
[She is at least taking care not to rip any fabric or break any zippers, though; her fingers are fast and nimble at their job. And even though her breath catches as he cups her through her underwear, it doesn't slow her progress, and she's toying with the elastic of his boxers a half-second later.]
You want your pants all the way off, or do you wanna stay halfway decent in case someone comes knocking?
I do indeed try not to get caught with my trousers down.
[And between his boots and everything, it is not a quick redressing. Though he is notably more sober than last time. It wouldn’t be so bad.]
Though… you can take the boxers off if you like.
[He tugs the lingerie to one side to take a look at her as the hand under her thigh snakes up her dress to try to see if he can’t find that knife without ruining her dress.]
Okay. But if you're up for a repeat performance someday, let's try for a bedroom.
[She has no issues with semi-closed sex in a secluded back room, but she would also very much like to see this man shirtless someday.
Lucky him, though: as she's working his boxers down, he'll find that thin leather knife holster strapped around her torso, just underneath the matching lingerie bra. When she realizes what he's doing, she cocks a brow at him.]
[She's in the middle of multitasking (one hand working on shimmying down his boxers, the other fishing through the purse she'd dropped on the desk chair, hunting for a condom) - but when he hands her the knife, that suddenly has all of her attention. With care that borders on reverence, she slooooooowly slices the knife through the fabric, letting the blade just barely kiss his skin: enough that he'll feel the cold metal against his hipbone, but not nearly enough to sting.]
[And likewise, Cis does a good job not flinching. He draws breath through his nose as she lets the blade glance his hip, exhaling a little chuckle. ]
You look like you’d happily do that to everything I’m wearing, given the chance. And with that control, I’d let you. But right now…
[He takes the boxers in hand and pulls them taut where they still loop around his other leg from the inseam. He glances up at her with a nod as he delicately guides her wrist to his thigh. His balls tighten as they hit cold air, his cock bobs with arousal. ]
[He’s a bit more than average, girthy, uncut. His pubic hair is trimmed and stretches towards his navel. His skin is flecked with an unnatural stony grey, more towards his left hip.]
[The gray discoloration (scar? rash? definitely not an active rash, but maybe the after-effects of one) is hard to miss, but she doesn't ask about it: if it's not an STD, then it's not her business. Especially not when it's not the only thing that's hard to miss. As he pulls the cut-up fabric of his boxers (may they rest in pieces) free from his pants, she ghosts a palm over his bare dick, this first touch just as quick and light as the knife had been.]
The supervisors in med school always did say I was good with a scalpel.
[She murmurs, tucking the knife into her purse (she'll reholster it later) and finally coming up with that foil-wrapped little square she'd been searching for. If he's leaving his pants on, then she'll leave her dress on, but she'll at least tug her underwear off. She's well-trimmed, too: not shaved, and not even someone who trims every day, but still far from bushy.]
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[There's no sign of ticklishness; she doesn't so much as twitch. But along the right side of her ribcage, he'll feel the telltale sign of something small and rigid: exactly the way a sheath for a small knife would feel.
Her eyes briefly flick down to his hand, then back up to meet his.]
Congratulations.
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[Now he’s just plain interested in the logistics as he traces a finger up the ridge of it, wondering if there’s a hidden slit in her dress. ]
Now that’s clever. But it’s under your clothes- How are you meant to draw it when you need it?
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[True to her word, there's no slit to be found, nor any other alterations: it's a regular dress, and a regular knife, both on a very weird woman.]
Knife's a last resort anyway. I carry a gun a lot and I'm good at hand-to-hand, so if I'm going for a knife hidden under a cocktail dress, I've got bigger problems than a wardrobe malfunction. But...
[She watches his finger tracing the fabric, and arches an eyebrow.]
I thought wearing it tonight would be fun.
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[But that’s all said noncommittally. The real game was in being allowed to get so close. He lingers for a moment on his knees, thumb ghosting over it one more time.]
You’re well-prepared then, a couple weapons and martial arts under your belt. Though, I can’t imagine any of that will be very relevant tonight…
[He hauls himself off the floor and takes a seat next to her.]
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Don't worry - no knives in you. And if we end up anywhere else...
[She rakes her gaze up and down his torso, eyes eventually coming to rest on his mouth.]
... all weapons clear across the room.
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[Likewise, he stifled his own swordplay joke for similar reasons.]
[He’s observant, and this is far from his first rodeo. He can see her looking him up and down. It’s forward for a woman, perhaps- but he’s not unused to that. And besides, he appreciates and approves of that approach. ]
As you wish.
[His eyes play on her drink for a moment. She hadn’t had much of it yet, but they were still moving apace- She clearly knew what she wanted and he admired that.
And could tell when someone was getting at something. He rests his arm behind her and sits up away from the couch as he turns more towards her. He bounces his brows as he tilts his head, beginning a lean in for a kiss.]
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Well. She won't go that far yet, anyway.
When he makes the first move, there's no hesitation: she leans in herself and closes the distance between them, curling her fingers into his shirt collar and sealing her mouth to his. Honestly, it's been far too long since she's made out with someone in a bar. Thank god for the chance to rectify that.]
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[One arm closes in and goes around her shoulders, the other onto her knee as he reciprocates the kiss. He tastes like liquor and smoke, smells like it too- ]
[He’s a decent kisser and mindful of himself. His scruff is kept short as not to be unruly, but long enough that it tends not to scratch. His lips are a little dry from the weather, so he wets them with a swipe of his tongue. ]
[It hadn’t been terribly long since he made out with a new acquaintance, but it had been months since he had attempted to court a woman. But he does enjoy it and the way it makes him feel. Part of him tells himself that he’s too old for her and he silences it at once.]
[He only breaks the kiss to catch his breath and look at her from beneath his lashes.]
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She doesn't look away when he pulls back, her eyes dark with interest.]
You got a place around here?
[She murmurs, not backing up more than a few inches.]
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[Now he feels silly for not bringing some real transportation. Cid looks over at the robot barback.]
You don’t think he’ll mind if we take the backroom, do you?
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Cid, I like the way you think.
[She does pull back now, reaching for her glass as she moves to stand. This is good scotch, and it's coming along.]
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[He stands, moving to the door behind the bar, and opening it like he has any right. Still, he does it with total confidence. He peers in and peeks around, eyes adjusting to the dim light.]
Looks like there’s an office, maybe…
[As he goes through another door into precisely that- A small office with a desk, a clunky 90’s computer, and a couch.]
Oh look, it even locks…
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[The couch gets a glance, but only so that she can properly orient herself in relation to it; with the desk covered in things that they should probably try to be careful around (tragic), the couch seems like the only viable landing place. Though up against the wall is tempting, too...
The moment he has the door locked, she's on him, wrapping a leg around his hip for leverage as she cranes her neck up to reach his mouth. She's a short woman; she's learned how to make do with taller people.]
cw: probably nsfw all the way down from here
[His blood runs hot as he weighs their options, flipping through the same few as Shaw is, though he includes the floor and the chair as well.]
[He guides her ass to the desk, leaning them over as they kiss so he can shove all the stuff on it to the side. Some of it falls off the desk- but it’s probably fine. None of it actually belonged to anyone anymore, right?]
What’s the matter, got somewhere to be?
[He teases her as he tugs a glove off with his teeth. He then pushes the skirt of her dress up towards her hip with a bare hand- warm and calloused as he leans in to kiss her again. ]
godspeed you crazy kids
[She murmurs against his mouth, though she's grinning as she says it. As he hikes up her dress (revealing lacy lingerie; she'd come prepared by foregoing her typical briefs), she's busy working at the clasp on his pants, her breath catching juuuuuuust a little at the feeling of those callouses on her bare skin.]
And don't feel like you have to go any easier on me than you did on all that stuff you just shoved around.
[He shouldn't go any rougher than his comfort levels, of course, but she has a good idea of where her own boundaries are, and they're pretty high.]
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You like it rough, eh?
[His thumb brushes along the front of the lingerie, following seams and hems downward until he can really feel her. He palms her, pressing and massaging her through the lingerie as he rests his forehead against hers to actually look at what he’s doing.]
[He chuckles, deep and curious as she unfastens the front of his trousers. He’s more than half-hard already, his cock tenting his boxers enough to give a sneak peek of it through the fly.]
…Likewise. I can take quite a bit of punishment, eh? I might not be young anymore, but I’m made of sterner stuff.
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[She is at least taking care not to rip any fabric or break any zippers, though; her fingers are fast and nimble at their job. And even though her breath catches as he cups her through her underwear, it doesn't slow her progress, and she's toying with the elastic of his boxers a half-second later.]
You want your pants all the way off, or do you wanna stay halfway decent in case someone comes knocking?
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[And between his boots and everything, it is not a quick redressing. Though he is notably more sober than last time. It wouldn’t be so bad.]
Though… you can take the boxers off if you like.
[He tugs the lingerie to one side to take a look at her as the hand under her thigh snakes up her dress to try to see if he can’t find that knife without ruining her dress.]
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[She has no issues with semi-closed sex in a secluded back room, but she would also very much like to see this man shirtless someday.
Lucky him, though: as she's working his boxers down, he'll find that thin leather knife holster strapped around her torso, just underneath the matching lingerie bra. When she realizes what he's doing, she cocks a brow at him.]
Told you.
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[And he slips it out from under her dress, carefully.]
You did.
[And then he puts the knife in her hand.]
Go on. You want the boxers off? Take them off.
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You look like you’d happily do that to everything I’m wearing, given the chance. And with that control, I’d let you. But right now…
[He takes the boxers in hand and pulls them taut where they still loop around his other leg from the inseam. He glances up at her with a nod as he delicately guides her wrist to his thigh. His balls tighten as they hit cold air, his cock bobs with arousal. ]
[He’s a bit more than average, girthy, uncut. His pubic hair is trimmed and stretches towards his navel. His skin is flecked with an unnatural stony grey, more towards his left hip.]
You’ll have to be satisfied with this.
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The supervisors in med school always did say I was good with a scalpel.
[She murmurs, tucking the knife into her purse (she'll reholster it later) and finally coming up with that foil-wrapped little square she'd been searching for. If he's leaving his pants on, then she'll leave her dress on, but she'll at least tug her underwear off. She's well-trimmed, too: not shaved, and not even someone who trims every day, but still far from bushy.]
This okay?
[She asks, showing him the condom wrapper.]
Or you got a different brand preference?
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A chirugeon, are you? Then clever doesn’t even cover the half of it-
[Cid reluctantly looks away from her newly fully exposed skin as she removes her underwear as she calls his attention to something else. ]
[And stares at it for a beat with zero recognition. He squints at it- ]
Eh? What’s that now?
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That's a condom, big guy. You don't have them where you're from?
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*sexiest in that last tag, not sexist. betrayed by my phone
If it makes u feel better I read “sexiest”
thank god tbh
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