[ well before he identifies his sorry state, peggy's got a quiet smile on her near-bare lips -- the colour long since smudged on him and on the whiskey bottle. there's a faint red stain around his mouth because of it. it's a strangely encouraging sight. and one she thinks she'd sorely miss except that it otherwise seems like a worthy trade when he bows forward and noses his way against her throat.
audibly, she breathes out. relief and tension dovetailing together until -- annoyingly -- he straightens again just so he can natter on about being drunk. of all the foolishness...
peggy's shoulders sink with a sigh and it's a miracle she doesn't tug his mouth back toward the slope of her neck. she endures his laughter, his self-effacement, with a stony and impatient look. augured differently, she might have laughed alongside him or even found his burst of incredulity to be endearing. not so right now. she mumbles another curse, mutters something along the lines of steady going, mister hunter, and drapes her arms around him.
she draws him in. lifts his back away from the sofa's cushions. encourages his progress in how her head tilts and her neck opens up. there's nothing hidden in the way her breath catches when she feels teeth on her skin. she whispers a quiet affirmation and her fingers, sinking just beneath the collar of his shirt find first warm skin and next the the leading edge of whorled scar tissue extending from his shoulder.
curious.
she switches tack, pulling at his shirt in a sudden bid to remove it. to see him. but it doesn't prove simple to extricate themselves from their present tangle -- she finds her finer motor functions don't always obey her thoughts. the liquor's fault, most likely. the urge to enjoy him battles it out with another equal urge to explore him. ]
Utterly sloshed, yes. [ peggy assures him, head turning so that her words catch on his ear. if she wasn't drunk herself, she might have asked him if he wanted to stop. sit back. catch their breath and reconsider -- but instinct tells her they are both on the same page for once. ] It's likely a good thing you're not the one trying to keep upright.
[ ...nevermind that he's been bracing her above him since the moment she landed in his lap. ]
no subject
audibly, she breathes out. relief and tension dovetailing together until -- annoyingly -- he straightens again just so he can natter on about being drunk. of all the foolishness...
peggy's shoulders sink with a sigh and it's a miracle she doesn't tug his mouth back toward the slope of her neck. she endures his laughter, his self-effacement, with a stony and impatient look. augured differently, she might have laughed alongside him or even found his burst of incredulity to be endearing. not so right now. she mumbles another curse, mutters something along the lines of steady going, mister hunter, and drapes her arms around him.
she draws him in. lifts his back away from the sofa's cushions. encourages his progress in how her head tilts and her neck opens up. there's nothing hidden in the way her breath catches when she feels teeth on her skin. she whispers a quiet affirmation and her fingers, sinking just beneath the collar of his shirt find first warm skin and next the the leading edge of whorled scar tissue extending from his shoulder.
curious.
she switches tack, pulling at his shirt in a sudden bid to remove it. to see him. but it doesn't prove simple to extricate themselves from their present tangle -- she finds her finer motor functions don't always obey her thoughts. the liquor's fault, most likely. the urge to enjoy him battles it out with another equal urge to explore him. ]
Utterly sloshed, yes. [ peggy assures him, head turning so that her words catch on his ear. if she wasn't drunk herself, she might have asked him if he wanted to stop. sit back. catch their breath and reconsider -- but instinct tells her they are both on the same page for once. ] It's likely a good thing you're not the one trying to keep upright.
[ ...nevermind that he's been bracing her above him since the moment she landed in his lap. ]