[ at this stage, the chances she might fall asleep mid-sentence are high; the chances it might be while she's mid-thought are even higher, but he's still got her for now, and if she does yawn she'll turn her head to try and stifle it further away from what the device's capabilities can pick up. (it definitely doesn't work.)
she can't say she'd complain much if she had less of a need to keep replenishing the gauze and bandages at the bar, but she might find herself missing the sudden lack of presence beyond that. besides, someone needs to help her drink all this coffee she keeps making. ]
I'll even let her be the big spoon if that sweetens the deal a little more. [ but the image his words conjure in her mind, a tiny bundle of fur cozied up across him, warms her more than she wants to let on. ] If we're talking overnights, you know what that means. [ a dramatic pause, and then: ] Pot of fresh coffee in the morning. [ yes, she'd make it. ]
[ maybe the soft hidden blossom of an invitation is inspired by those tired breaths, by the faint hint of a yawn that still finds its way through the receiver. there's little he could do from here, only using his voice to accompany her before her sleep. talking is never his strong suit, but he can't resist the thought of her body nestled up to his chest, cheek braced where his head beats steadily as rosie lays flopped upside down beneath the opposite arm, his fingertips dancing upon her shoulder in a soothing caress to lull her until eyes shut for the night.
he'll try not to imagine it, but it only makes the imagery more vivid as she makes a promise of the morning to come.
when he laughs, it's honest with a followed hum. ] If it's as good in the morning as it is at midnight, can't imagine a better way of waking up. [ because surely it's only the coffee that'll make it so. ]
[ the last time they'd fallen asleep in the same bed had been a peace sought out by tired limbs, both of them nursing their respective injuries and struggling to find a comfortable shared position that wouldn't aggravate any lingering soreness.
now, they've both healed enough where she'd be able to rest the weight of her head against his shoulder without worry of poking any fresh bruises, warmth rippling outward from the two bodies she's curved around, the sound of his voice over her head. she musters enough energy for a small chuckle. ] We still talking about the coffee?
[ of course he's not at all surprised at the direction her mind seems to go to; it isn't as if he's playing so innocent in this exchange either, already knowing the instincts they seem to pick up on whenever they're in each other's company. whether it's a joke or not, he might have doubts on whether it remains that way. ]
Why, you thinking of something else that hot and smooth to rouse me up in the morning?
[ he really has been spending too much time with her. ]
[ first of all: hey. second: can you blame her? third: she's in bed right now, and maybe she's switching the tracks here because she's already in a setting that lends itself to this brand of thought, to say nothing of the action that tends to go down when they're within arm's reach of one another.
she hides a smile he can't even see but the width of it is plainly audible in her voice, that tightness, the terribly feigned innocence. ] Well, you said you couldn't imagine better and I figured I could test that theory.
[ even half asleep, she can manage to twist the conversation in her favor, where she steers them along in the sorts of exchanges that spark him with amusement. if she could see him, she might have caught that instinctive eye roll, the kind that gets contradicted when he holds his smile on his lips. ]
Guess we can't really say until we put that theory to practice, huh?
[ a tease? a promise? more than likely a mix of both, because he knows the little restriction of their fingers and mouths when they're that close a distance. ]
[ it could very well be her current half-waking state that's making her more susceptible, removing any hopes she has of maintaining some semblance of a filter. but this is the easy part, what she can rely on not to necessarily trip her up when she's already left some of her guards down. ]
Guess not. My coffee versus my mouth: who comes out on top?
[ because she's liking the thought of crawling her way down him while he's still emerging from a resting state, lips moving over sleep-warmed skin to wake him up fully. ]
[ it's a pleasant promise, their entangled limbs twisted along bed sheets wrapped around their legs, the flutter of sunlight through the curtains stirring them just enough to rouse their conscious, but not to motivate them to leave the safety of that mattress.
it might not even be too soon to declare a winner in her challenge. ]
If we play our cards right, there might be something else entirely that ends up coming on top. [ did he just. ]
that almost shocks her right up to fully awake, the sudden heat in her cheeks only matched by the sudden flip low in her belly, that unexpected quiver. and her first reaction is to laugh, only it's not so much as laugh as it is a giggle, soft and completely uncharacteristic. ]
Well, maybe I haven't made my love of a certain position clear enough yet.
[ if there's one she had to pick for herself time and time again, it's that one. ]
he hears the altered sound in her laugh and he hopes that he's gotten her flustered, a little disappointed he hadn't reserved that one for a time when he had her directly in front of him to see the sort of shift that might have brought to her eyes.
if only he could take the sound of his grin out of his voice. ]
You're gonna have to demonstrate, but I gotta tell you β might have a fair amount of love for it myself. [ and just because, ] Tastes better than coffee.
[ if she had to guess, her instincts are telling her that she's rubbing off on him in more ways than one. that, or he's comfortable enough around her to let some of those burning innuendoes fly free. she's more than good with either option. ]
Really? What kinda coffee are you buying over there if that's what you're comparing it to? I might need to set you up with a better grind.
[ of coffee. is what she's definitely still talking about. of course. you've got her on a roll now, frank. ]
[ her influence has definitely contributed to the encouragement, though some that might have known a younger frank castle would cite witness to that natural playfulness, a buried layer of jokes and easygoing conversation that takes a certain degree of effort to dig away at these days.
wynonna had sprouted those tools very early in their relationship, mastering her technique with every incoming exchange. ]
Oh, yeah? Think that works out just fine since it's your grind I want. The kind of morning stimulation I'm looking for.
[ when it comes to the bad ones, he'll definitely blame her influence. ]
[ whereas in contrast, the same couldn't necessarily be said about a young wynonna earp, who'd garnered a reputation in her hometown for being in possession of a considerable amount of anger issues and a complete disregard for authority. she's still got the latter, without question, but jokes like these are more than her method of putting others at ease. they're how she eases herself, too.
but it's always nice to feel like she's got someone on her level to bounce off of β or, at least someone who doesn't mind being a sounding board for all her material, good and bad. ]
Good, 'cause it's got a nice heat to it. The kind that's best when poured over slow.
[ is she ever going to be able to drink a cup of coffee the same way again? ]
[ they're probably taking this too far; no, they're definitely taking this too far, but maybe it's because frank's nestled so casually in his bed, arm behind his head on the pillow as he lays comfortably, that he isn't minding the ridiculous turns the conversation has taken. ]
Might wanna cool it there, Earp. You sure you wanna be stirring my mug at this hour?
[ it's an odd mixture of amusement and the subtle rises of arousal as far as imagining the rolling of her thighs on his face. the coffee metaphors might be doing its job in keeping it tame, however. ]
[ oh, does he know how there's no such thing as "too far" where she's concerned? there's the line and there's where she tends to stand, which is just over it, whether that entails bucking the rules or pushing things in a very specific direction when it comes to her corny humor. ]
What's the matter, Castle? Is it getting too hot for you already?
[ yeeeeah. is it weird that she's a little turned on by this? maybe we won't investigate that too closely, but it's also possible that she'll only partly remember the turn this conversation had taken by morning. ]
[ he lets chuckling laughter roll out casually from his mouth, little resistance there to branch up a filter, not entirely minding how much of this he allows wynonna to witness. she's stubborn, brash, determined β he's fond of all of it. ]
Well, everything's pretty hot when you're involved.
[ much less subtlety. much less, and maybe there's a slight purr in his tone, or maybe that's just the groggy tiredness talking. in either scenario, he lets the truth fly free. ]
[ that's the other benefit to these late-night conversations β or maybe the opposite, considering that it tends to catch them at a disadvantage when they're at their most unshielded. and given the number they've held, there's been plenty of opportunity to offer more than they might allow others to glimpse.
after all she's witnessed, she remains a pretty big fan. ]
As long as you don't burn your tongue, right?
[ because that would kill the mood, the one that's similarly heating up now. or maybe she just likes the thrumming tenor of his voice at this hour. if she closes her eyes, she can almost pretend he's laying here with her. ]
[ there's very few who've gotten to peel back the layers, even counting those not currently within these city's walls. spending as much time as he has with her has given her more opportunities to peek beneath them, every encounter, every conversation, leaving him more and more willing to let her see. ]
Hard to burn it while you're keeping it wet.
[ it begins to shift away from that initial playfulness, leaning further into the weight of his promises, where he wouldn't mind waking up to the tight press of her thighs on his cheeks sooner than later. ]
[ at least it's a two-way street in exposing their susceptibilities; she wouldn't feel nearly as comfortable being this honest if he hadn't guaranteed some form of reciprocation over these last two months. but she's continually impressed at their ability to easily straddle the line between teasing and openness, the former even more likely to lead into the latter as day runs into night. ]
Dripping, actually.
[ in case there was any doubt about his ability to rile her up, too. she's not even mad about it, especially when she knows she's equally capable of turning the tables, but if she senses the start of a faint pulsing between her thighs, she doesn't move to satisfy it. ]
Don't say another word. [ that lightness lingers again in his voice, but it isn't all playful; the low whisper of her voice through the receiver, practically biting into the core of a subtle yearning, a simmering want at his center. ]
Keep talking like that and I'm just gonna want to see you tonight.
[ he doesn't think of the words before they're out, doesn't even have the energy to regret them once they are, gentle honestly camping on his tongue while the barriers are down.
if there are any secrets left, it's how the sexual implications aren't the only persuasion for wanting her there. ]
[ itβs low β not a warning, not a threat, but something still serious that rolls over her even through the small speakers of her device, and she canβt say she minds she sternness of it too, even though he can hardly expect her to follow any order he issues unless she feels like it.
right now? she really freaking feels like it. ]
You say that like itβs not an option.
[ should she be worried about how quickly she offers herself up, not just for the physical intimacy but for the potential of simple closeness? how much he satisfies just by being near her, even if they arenβt tangled up in a pair of bedsheets? maybe, but her thoughts are too fuzzy to lend themselves to deeper considerations. ]
[ it shouldn't be, he almost says but doesn't. he hasn't ignored just how much time he's dedicated in his days to her, how occasional visits for an hour or two in the night to the bar had extended to walks trailing to her apartment, lingering there for lasting hours until they've had enough of one another (uncommon); if there isn't the physical, there's exchanged messages sprouting teasing jokes that coat their longing for what they should already have enough or these late phone calls, comforted by the mere whisper of one another's voice.
it shouldn't be an option at all β ]
You want to? [ he asks because he can't conjure up the energy to make a more rational decision, fueled more by selfish desires in his tired state. ]
[ she should have more self-control than this. she shouldnβt be this reliant on someone, especially not someone here. she should be listening to that small part of her that warns her away from giving in to impulse just because her walls are down and sheβs missing the warmth of him beside her, the rumble of his voice from low in his chest. she should, shouldnβt, should. and yet.
sheβs never been good at that whole everything in moderation deal. this isnβt any different. maybe sheβll learn the repercussions of becoming too attached when they rear their ugly heads but this second, right now, she wants. ]
Yeah. [ she clears her throat softly, speaks up a little louder. ] Yes.
[ he can't quite explain that twist in his chest when she offers that affirmative answer, how it springs on relief, as if he'd been digging for the excuse, the cue from her end to make him rise onto his feet to seek her out.
they should be plenty satisfied; for all that they see each other, for all the time they spend talking, it should be more than enough.
it isn't. ]
I'll be there. [ he mutters, with a greater conciseness in his words as if he'd been properly jolted awake by her yes. there's slight shuffling from his side, indicating his movement as he rises from his comfort and goes to put on his boots. ] Keep talking. Keep β tell me a story. [ he doesn't elaborate on the why of it, whether it's something to distract her, to keep herself awake, or if it's his own want, to keep her voice at his ears. ]
[ she isn't anticipating being left to twist in the wind, but enough of a pause happens between her agreeing and his promise that she starts to wonder if she's been too direct in communicating her longing, and the quiet relief that floods her emotions in the wake of his words prompts her to relax further against the pillows β although she does prop herself up more so she won't run the risk of drifting off while he's on his way. ]
Mmm, okay. [ she's thinking out loud, making a few wordless sounds while her device picks up on the noises from his end, obvious movement prompting another smile. ] Did I ever tell you about what I was doing right before I ended up here? Who came rolling into town out of nowhere for us to deal with?
[ or why she'd been decked out in her party best before they'd given her that paper gown instead. that dress is still hanging in the back of her closet, dirty and ripped and completely unsalvageable after her unexpected mountain trek, but she's not going to tell him that part of the story. what came before that is the more entertaining part. ]
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she can't say she'd complain much if she had less of a need to keep replenishing the gauze and bandages at the bar, but she might find herself missing the sudden lack of presence beyond that. besides, someone needs to help her drink all this coffee she keeps making. ]
I'll even let her be the big spoon if that sweetens the deal a little more. [ but the image his words conjure in her mind, a tiny bundle of fur cozied up across him, warms her more than she wants to let on. ] If we're talking overnights, you know what that means. [ a dramatic pause, and then: ] Pot of fresh coffee in the morning. [ yes, she'd make it. ]
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he'll try not to imagine it, but it only makes the imagery more vivid as she makes a promise of the morning to come.
when he laughs, it's honest with a followed hum. ] If it's as good in the morning as it is at midnight, can't imagine a better way of waking up. [ because surely it's only the coffee that'll make it so. ]
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now, they've both healed enough where she'd be able to rest the weight of her head against his shoulder without worry of poking any fresh bruises, warmth rippling outward from the two bodies she's curved around, the sound of his voice over her head. she musters enough energy for a small chuckle. ] We still talking about the coffee?
[ you know she had to go there. ]
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Why, you thinking of something else that hot and smooth to rouse me up in the morning?
[ he really has been spending too much time with her. ]
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she hides a smile he can't even see but the width of it is plainly audible in her voice, that tightness, the terribly feigned innocence. ] Well, you said you couldn't imagine better and I figured I could test that theory.
[ because she can imagine a hell of a lot. ]
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Guess we can't really say until we put that theory to practice, huh?
[ a tease? a promise? more than likely a mix of both, because he knows the little restriction of their fingers and mouths when they're that close a distance. ]
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Guess not. My coffee versus my mouth: who comes out on top?
[ because she's liking the thought of crawling her way down him while he's still emerging from a resting state, lips moving over sleep-warmed skin to wake him up fully. ]
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it might not even be too soon to declare a winner in her challenge. ]
If we play our cards right, there might be something else entirely that ends up coming on top. [ did he just. ]
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that almost shocks her right up to fully awake, the sudden heat in her cheeks only matched by the sudden flip low in her belly, that unexpected quiver. and her first reaction is to laugh, only it's not so much as laugh as it is a giggle, soft and completely uncharacteristic. ]
Well, maybe I haven't made my love of a certain position clear enough yet.
[ if there's one she had to pick for herself time and time again, it's that one. ]
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he hears the altered sound in her laugh and he hopes that he's gotten her flustered, a little disappointed he hadn't reserved that one for a time when he had her directly in front of him to see the sort of shift that might have brought to her eyes.
if only he could take the sound of his grin out of his voice. ]
You're gonna have to demonstrate, but I gotta tell you β might have a fair amount of love for it myself. [ and just because, ] Tastes better than coffee.
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Really? What kinda coffee are you buying over there if that's what you're comparing it to? I might need to set you up with a better grind.
[ of coffee. is what she's definitely still talking about. of course. you've got her on a roll now, frank. ]
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wynonna had sprouted those tools very early in their relationship, mastering her technique with every incoming exchange. ]
Oh, yeah? Think that works out just fine since it's your grind I want. The kind of morning stimulation I'm looking for.
[ when it comes to the bad ones, he'll definitely blame her influence. ]
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but it's always nice to feel like she's got someone on her level to bounce off of β or, at least someone who doesn't mind being a sounding board for all her material, good and bad. ]
Good, 'cause it's got a nice heat to it. The kind that's best when poured over slow.
[ is she ever going to be able to drink a cup of coffee the same way again? ]
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Might wanna cool it there, Earp. You sure you wanna be stirring my mug at this hour?
[ it's an odd mixture of amusement and the subtle rises of arousal as far as imagining the rolling of her thighs on his face. the coffee metaphors might be doing its job in keeping it tame, however. ]
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What's the matter, Castle? Is it getting too hot for you already?
[ yeeeeah. is it weird that she's a little turned on by this? maybe we won't investigate that too closely, but it's also possible that she'll only partly remember the turn this conversation had taken by morning. ]
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Well, everything's pretty hot when you're involved.
[ much less subtlety. much less, and maybe there's a slight purr in his tone, or maybe that's just the groggy tiredness talking. in either scenario, he lets the truth fly free. ]
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after all she's witnessed, she remains a pretty big fan. ]
As long as you don't burn your tongue, right?
[ because that would kill the mood, the one that's similarly heating up now. or maybe she just likes the thrumming tenor of his voice at this hour. if she closes her eyes, she can almost pretend he's laying here with her. ]
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Hard to burn it while you're keeping it wet.
[ it begins to shift away from that initial playfulness, leaning further into the weight of his promises, where he wouldn't mind waking up to the tight press of her thighs on his cheeks sooner than later. ]
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Dripping, actually.
[ in case there was any doubt about his ability to rile her up, too. she's not even mad about it, especially when she knows she's equally capable of turning the tables, but if she senses the start of a faint pulsing between her thighs, she doesn't move to satisfy it. ]
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Keep talking like that and I'm just gonna want to see you tonight.
[ he doesn't think of the words before they're out, doesn't even have the energy to regret them once they are, gentle honestly camping on his tongue while the barriers are down.
if there are any secrets left, it's how the sexual implications aren't the only persuasion for wanting her there. ]
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right now? she really freaking feels like it. ]
You say that like itβs not an option.
[ should she be worried about how quickly she offers herself up, not just for the physical intimacy but for the potential of simple closeness? how much he satisfies just by being near her, even if they arenβt tangled up in a pair of bedsheets? maybe, but her thoughts are too fuzzy to lend themselves to deeper considerations. ]
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it shouldn't be an option at all β ]
You want to? [ he asks because he can't conjure up the energy to make a more rational decision, fueled more by selfish desires in his tired state. ]
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sheβs never been good at that whole everything in moderation deal. this isnβt any different. maybe sheβll learn the repercussions of becoming too attached when they rear their ugly heads but this second, right now, she wants. ]
Yeah. [ she clears her throat softly, speaks up a little louder. ] Yes.
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they should be plenty satisfied; for all that they see each other, for all the time they spend talking, it should be more than enough.
it isn't. ]
I'll be there. [ he mutters, with a greater conciseness in his words as if he'd been properly jolted awake by her yes. there's slight shuffling from his side, indicating his movement as he rises from his comfort and goes to put on his boots. ] Keep talking. Keep β tell me a story. [ he doesn't elaborate on the why of it, whether it's something to distract her, to keep herself awake, or if it's his own want, to keep her voice at his ears. ]
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Mmm, okay. [ she's thinking out loud, making a few wordless sounds while her device picks up on the noises from his end, obvious movement prompting another smile. ] Did I ever tell you about what I was doing right before I ended up here? Who came rolling into town out of nowhere for us to deal with?
[ or why she'd been decked out in her party best before they'd given her that paper gown instead. that dress is still hanging in the back of her closet, dirty and ripped and completely unsalvageable after her unexpected mountain trek, but she's not going to tell him that part of the story. what came before that is the more entertaining part. ]
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