retroductions | reverie overflow.

[ this is different than during the bingo game, when she was half out of her mind with guilt and worry over something as simple as a kiss. her mind is no calmer now, but that's not Sholmes' fault. they lived. for one more day, they lived.

at the new pressure of his hand, and the soft sensation of his lips parting, she takes and releases a slower breath through her nose, brow pinched in concentration. murmurs, ] Mmn.

[ there is so very much of her to touch. she lays her hand in the crook of his elbow, encouraging ]

[There’s no true escape from the lingering shadow of the elevator game, there’s only easing the wounds it might have caused them — more mental than physical at this point. But they lived, and they can cling to that together.

He likes the taste of her, just as he did before. He could linger there longer, but he does detract just enough to roam his eyes across her face, taking in those pinched brows.]

Allow yourself to relax.

[His hand remains where it is, full of her, squeezing slightly. The other moves over to her shoulder, rubbing with more pressure. Stress relief.]

[ don't be silly, Herlock. both hands are stress relief.

her lashes flutter when he speaks; she looks at him, quietly, and the pinch does not dissipate. ]

Do you do massages?

Yes. Of course. These hands, as you know, are deft enough to loosen even the most stubborn knots.

[He would say that his deductive capabilities add to his potential to offer a good massage -- to pinpoint the problem areas with unmatched efficiency.

Here, his hands slip away from her, but only so he can instruct:]

Remove your top, and lie on your stomach, my dear.

[ it looks like she's getting a massage. Sprezzatura rearranges herself to sit, opens her blouse one button at a time from the bottom up. today she wears a brassiere, soft and unremarkable, and she reaches behind herself to pinch the clasp open and remove that, too.

a massage is so indulgent. she turns, smoothing one hand up the bed as she sinks back down, on her stomach this time. ]

[An indulgence that he's ready to give her, patiently watching as she rearranges herself, eyes trailing down her form. Once she's on her stomach, Sholmes moves and settles himself in position, too — he straddles her, thighs bracing at her hips, then reaches down with the flat of his hands and runs them from the middle of her back up to her shoulders.

Intimate and practical, all at once.]

Comfortable? Shall I move elsewhere?

[ wriggles herself sinuously while he settles, one arm up and then the other, so she can fold them underneath and pillow her cheek. the weight of him is oddly soothing—weighted blanket effect.

sighs, ] Perfect...

[He smiles down at her.]

Good. Now let's see... I think this should be quite simple.

[It's easy when there's tension everywhere to be seen. He starts at the shoulders, though, fingers pressing in against muscle in even, steady circles. Again, that calloused touch of his is firm but strangely rhythmic.]

[ yeah, Herlock, she's making this easy for you! seduction couldn't be simpler. her lashes flutter a few times as she blinks, unspeaking, unmoving... then she closes her eyes; they fall still upon her cheeks.

the muscles protest. his touch is sore, achy. she isn't a masochist, either, but there is something pleasurable to it. here and there, he prompts a flinch, her painted lips tightening, or her tail's tip flicking abruptly where it drapes in a loose S-shape beside his knee. ]

Ah.

[He doesn't press in too hard, but it's not much of a massage if his touch is feather-light. Once he finds a knot near the shoulder blades, he begins working it through. He feels her tail twitching somewhere around his ankles.]

You'll loosen up sooner rather than later. Does this feel good at all?

Some would say I am always loose. [ girl don't just say that. she nods, though, subtly ] It does. Feeling you touch me so deeply...

[His brows shoot up and he laughs.]

Sprezzatura! I would say the opposite. That you are instead terribly, terribly tight.

[Sholmes leans in, still working at that knot, but plants a kiss just below the back of her neck. She'll feel the tickle of his hair.]

[ oh, that is a nice place to be kissed. ]

They say that, too.

[And it's a nice place to kiss. He gives her another, plush against her warm skin while his hand still works at a tight grouping of muscles.]

Oh, you're insatiable, aren't you?

[ mmh. laughs gently, pricking his sheets with her fingers, before settling back into quiet ]

It has been weeks, Herlock. Hardly.

[His hands move down to her sides. There's not much in the way of muscle there, but now he's just being indulgent, remaining close so that his lips still brush against her skin as he speaks.]

Yes, but there's not been much chance for intimacy in that time, has there?

[ there are some goosebumps forming, at that murmur. she shifts beneath him. ultimately, though, her body language is still that of a languid cat. ]

It is sounding more like it is you who is insatiable, detective.

[Even the subtle movement of her shifting beneath him is telling, and if he were to straighten again, the goosebumps would be more so. Another kiss, this one with the faint press of his tongue.]

Nonsense, you will find that my willpower is as strong as steel.

[Citation needed. But now, he does sit up a little more, working at her shoulders this time.]

[ how strong is steel, she wonders. stronger than iron cages?

threading her tail between his legs, she nudges it... up, cupping against him. it feels absolutely sinuous. ]

I'm sure.

[Probably not strong enough to hold steadfast when she snakes her tail up like that. Sholmes shifts above her, not at all ashamed of the friction.]

Trying to test that theory?

[His thumbs press against her shoulder blades, rubbing in circles. Not hard enough to hurt, but pressure enough to encourage stubborn muscles to loosen.]

Is that not what good detectives do?

[ his shifting sends a warmth through her, head to toe and back again. leaving her tail where it is, out of kindness ]

Mhh. There...

If there’s anyone who can prove me wrong, you are one of them. But for now…

[Adjusts himself again, her tail kept tantalizingly near.]

You’ve not distracted me quite enough to qualify.

[ well, now she's just going to run her tail against him all the more vigorously. it has a grace to it, the way the curves loop and shift over him where he lays against his thigh. ]

Then keep rubbing me.

[Of course she does — he half expected it. And while his play at having a focus wrought of steel is only half-serious, too, Sholmes sucks in a breath; it would be embarrassing to unravel so easily, even if he rocks ever so slightly against her, anyway.]

I will, until you’re completely satisfied.

[And he does, to his credit. His hands are still as firm as ever.]

[ hard to relax. her brain keeps replaying the hellish scream of the cages falling. she can smell the sweat on her, growing cool and stale. Sholmes straddling her, though, cannot be anything besides grounding; he is literally pressing her into the bed. ]

Can you... lower...

[ if he does, he will feel the way her lower back is all but seized. she carries all her tension there. it is not unlike trying to lead concrete. ]

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