gaaaaay | (no subject)

It's early evening as they walk along the shore, the last glimmers of sunlight fading into the sea line like licks of a dying fire. The hem of Rose's gown trails behind her on the sand, swishing airily around her ankles with every step she takes.

There's that shine to her eyes, the way she always gets when she talks about humans -- and it's been there for the last ten minutes, as she recounted in vivid detail her encounter with one particular human man earlier that day. She's made sure to tell Pearl all about it -- his broad shoulders and sun-warmed skin, the way he looked up at her (as they all do) with such endearing awe in his eyes. How he caught and skinned her a deer, which, per her understanding, is one of the greatest romantic gestures humans are presently capable of. It's so interesting to watch them hunt -- a dozen of them couldn't last a second against a single gem, but they make up for their weak psychique and dull reflexes with their own attempts at strategy and cobbled-together weapons.

"And then he kissed me," Rose concludes the story with a light, giddy giggle, and taps a thoughtful finger to her chin as she adds: "A bit rough, but it was charming in its own right, I found. Humans have such fascinating ways of showing affection!"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Pearl's brow furrows at Rose's laughter, shoulders slumping a little bit -- why can't she do this right? is it really that ridiculous? -- but she allows herself to be soothed easily enough. The apology that was at the tip of her tongue melts away into the kiss, thankfully forgotten.

"Yes, please..."

She folds her legs with all the grace she can muster as Rose tugs her down. Despite the disparity in their forms they've always fit together well; she curls neatly into Rose's lap, with plenty of room for her slender limbs, plenty of room for warm arms to wrap around her and pull her in tight. Pearl tips her head sideways to allow Rose's mouth better access, eyelids starting to flutter shut. When Rose begins to pull at her clothing, she raises her hands to assist, slim fingers brushing against Rose's larger ones.

"If you tear these again, I'm going to have to shapeshift some more, you know."

"You always pick such light material," Rose tuts, but obliges the reprimand all the same, staying mindful of the pressure behind her fingertips. She likes to get sloppy sometimes, in moments of heat and urgency -- but the night is quiet and cool, and Pearl is so very small in her arms. She'll be gentle, tonight.

The garment carefully peeled away, she sets it aside on the sand. Her hands settle over Pearl's bare waist, buzzing with warmth beneath her palms, so slender that her thumbs nearly touch. Rose lets out an enamored little sigh, brushing circles over the flat plane of her stomach.

"Which do you like more, Pearl? My mouth or my hands?"

"It's easier to--mm--move in," Pearl breathes. She shifts under Rose's touch, putting one hand down to steady herself, curling her fingers in flowing folds of pink fabric.

"Maybe...your hands first? And then, your mouth, later?" With every glance of desire and approval from Rose, it's getting easier to ask, even if her eyes are squeezed shut and her cheeks are still burning furiously.