Room 209, Wednesday night

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It might be things brought up when she was little, or the panic the last day at the thought that this planet might actually be frelled up enough to consider marriage between a five-year-old and a seven-year-old legal, or maybe even things she said in the interview with D'Anna, but Aeryn's just feeling quiet. It's not good, it's not bad, just... she's thinking.

And tossing the driver's ed manual in her closet, right by prom's pointy shoes. She's pretty sure she can pass it anyway. As long as they're driving real cars.

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"I can completely support a good goal," Aeryn tells him, working his pants off before doing the same to her own.

[whitedeathpod.livejournal.com]

"Mm. Such a pretty sight," he mumbles, skimming his lips across her shoulders and throat.

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"You're good at this," she breathes. She tilts her head back again, catching her breath and letting her hands wander wherever they want. Just wants to be touching him.

[whitedeathpod.livejournal.com]

"I've had lots of practice," he replies, sliding back up to kiss her lips before moving back to her neck.

Hey, he's gotta leave a hickey every once in a while.

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She'll deal with the bruising. It's worth it. "It shows," she assures him swallowing.

[whitedeathpod.livejournal.com]

"Thanks." He grins down at her, rubbing her shoulders with his hands. "You're not sweating yet."

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She smiles back. "You're going to have to work harder."

[whitedeathpod.livejournal.com]

"I can do that."

And he gets to work.