stormandwind | INBOX: lastvoyages

He's never done this before, never had a woman under his hands, and he's both nervous and fascinated. He wants to go slow, to savor every moment of it, and to give himself time to adjust to the newness as well, and the kiss is perfect. Gentle encouragement and appreciation that makes him think he's at least somewhat on the right track, and he hitches her shift up the rest of the way as he kisses her back with the kind of single-minded attention that can't be easily counterfeited.

When he breaks away again he's flushed and short of breath, and he swallows hard before letting himself look down, watch while he lifts the thin fabric past her breasts and then, carefully, over her head. And then his breath stops entirely for a handful of heartbeats before shuddering out on a groan. "C-can I?" he asks, dropping her shift carelessly aside and then hovering his hands a bare inch away from the fascinating fullness of her breasts.

Tris releases Fives to let him get her out of her shift. She'd like to return the gesture. She can manage a tiny shred of patience, though. With the way Fives is looking at her, she's reluctant to interrupt or make him wait. Tris blushes slightly under that scrutiny, but she's smiling. Her breath catches at his groan.

"Yes," she assures him firmly, unable to keep from adding a slightly more urgent, "please."

He doesn't hesitate any longer, closing that last inch to cup her breasts in his broad hands with a soft, shuddering sigh, lifting a little to feel the weight of them, brushing his thumbs delicately up to tease at her nipples.

"Oh." It's a barely there sound, and he looks a little stunned as he ducks down to kiss her again, soft and slow and almost reverent. It's just... he'd never really imagined how different it would be. Her soft roundness compared to the heavy breadth of Clark and Jedao's wiry grace, her almost translucently pale skin under his bronzed hands, so different from Jedao's scars.

He straightens with a groan at the reminder and takes a half step back, a sudden wave of guilt washing over him. "Force-" He bites his lower lip and ducks his head. "I should... he won't care-" He knows Jedao won't care, but that doesn't change the fact that he nearly ruined things for him and Quentin, and... and he should- "I have to ask Jedao. First. If it's okay."

He's almost stammering, guilty and still so kriffing wound up and wanting, and he hurries to try and explain. "It will be, but-" He shakes his head. "I, uh... when he and Quentin-" He's flushed with more than arousal now. "Quentin asked, and I, uh, I was worried... and they didn't... for a long time? So I should... ask?"

Tris gasps as his hands close over her breasts and his thumbs slide up to her nipples. That soft little sound he makes is every bit as effective as the tone in his voice a minute ago when he told her she was beautiful. Her head tilts back slightly, which works out well as Fives bends to kiss her. Her hands settle on his hips for just a moment, falling again as he pulls away.

She opens her eyes in concern. Tris takes in the information about Jedao and Quentin without blinking, noting but not reacting. Right now, she's paying more attention to Fives and the way that he's scrambling to explain whatever has him suddenly tense and guilty. Tris takes his hands and squeezes for a second before she lets go and steps back to sit on the edge of her bed, agreeing, "Then ask him. I don't want to do anything that would make you or Jedao uncomfortable."

She doesn't want to do anything that would make Clark uncomfortable either, so she hesitates a second before adding quietly, "Would you mind if I talk to Clark, actually? I know your relationship with him isn't exclusive, but some societies have taboos against sharing with a sibling, though. I'm sure enough that he won't care that I'd be willing to wait till tomorrow. As his sister, it just feels considerate for me to discuss it with him at some point, at least briefly."

She would never consider going to bed with anyone involved with Briar or Daja or, gods forbid, Sandry. But Clark is different.

Fives' breath shudders out on a relieved sigh at her response. If he'd thought about it he'd have known that would be her reaction, but it had blindsided him so abruptly he hadn't really thought at all, but that gentle squeeze of his hands is enough to settle him almost entirely back into his skin.

"No, that's... that would be good, I think. If we're both sure of everything, before we go any farther?" He bites his lip for a moment, then adds, "Do you mind if i just... if I call him right now?" Because Force, he really doesn't want to wait, which feels... maybe a little inappropriate? But also absolutely true. He wants this, wants her, now. He doesn't want to put it off when everything, so far, has been so... perfect.

If she's entirely honest, waiting doesn't hold any appeal for her either. Tris grins and ducks her head for a second at the question, blushing. "Just make sure I'm not visible when you do," she warns, still sitting half naked on the bed in front of Fives.

Tris will be avoiding the video function if she calls Clark now. It seems important to hear his voice when he answers, so she won't be texting him, but she doesn't want to scramble back into her clothes as if they've done anything she's ashamed of.

"Oh." Fives flushes a little, because that honestly might not have occurred to him, since body modesty isn't really something that register for him. He shifts to make sure she won't be in the shot, and then calls Jedao.

Tris can't resist a warm, quiet laugh when she overhears Jedao's advice to Fives. And it's nice, witnessing the endearments between them. For all of the concerns she voiced to Hope about whether she'd be able to handle being involved with someone who was in more than one relationship, the expression on Fives' face as he looks at her doesn't leave any room to doubt that he's interested. It still doesn't feel threatening at all, knowing that he loves someone else. Even hearing it firsthand rather than simply knowing intellectually.

"Let me talk to Clark, and then we can continue where we left off," she promises with a smile, fairly certain of what Clark's answer will be.

Once she finishes her conversation with Clark, Tris looks up at Fives and asks, "Can we get you out of some of your clothes now?"

She'd planned on that anyway, but since the subject came up...

Fives watches Tris the whole time, expression absolutely besotted... and possibly focused a little more on her bare breasts than is strictly polite. He's flushed with pleasure and grinning from ear to ear by the time she looks back to him.

"I think we've virtually been ordered to," he points out, and reaches for the hem of his shirt, then stops and bites his lip. "Uh... do you, uh, do you want to? Do it?" He doesn't know if she'll actually care either way, but he'd enjoyed getting to strip her out of her shift, and he'd very much like to be the one to slide her drawers over her hips and down her legs, so it seems polite to ask.

Her breath catches in her throat at the bright grin that greets her when she returns her full attention to Fives, and her gaze immediately follows his hands as he reaches for the hem to his shirt. It takes her a second to form an answer to the stammered question. She's already sitting with such a nice vantage point that she decides, "I'd actually prefer the view while you take off your shirt. Then yes, I want to."

She doesn't think she'll be able to keep her hands off of him long enough to watch him strip out of the rest of his clothes.

"Yeah?" His grin doesn't waver, and he gets hold of his shirt and strips it up over his head in one smooth movement, revealing a landscape of scars and ink, along with bruises of fairly obvious origins... and some less obvious. And a small grid of clearly very carefully applied burn marks on the left side of his abdomen, just above the waistband of his jeans. Dots and lines delineated by half-healed, angry red burns and the remnants of blisters. And on his forearms and chest and sides there are the fading or almost vanished remnants of similar burns, decreasing in size and complexity as they evidently become more recent.

Fives isn't thinking of any of that as he drops his shirt to the floor and pads over to Tris, not sure yet if he wants to pull her up or drop to his knees in front of her or simply bear her back onto the bed and work things out as they go.

The scars make sense given the life he's led, the tattoos aren't a surprise, a few bruises from sparring are only to be expected, and... some of those bruises definitely aren't from sparring. The one set of marks that gives her pause and actually makes her narrow her eyes for the briefest moment in concern is the burns. And those... they're so regular and clearly repeated as to be very identifiably deliberate. That helps. The marks are something Fives chose, and it isn't the first time she's heard of someone doing that sort of thing for whatever reason, sexual or otherwise.

She lets it go. They aren't injuries to worry about, and there are much better things to focus on. Tris grins.

"I don't have hints at my preferences written across my skin like you do." She bites her lip after she says it, reaching for him as he approaches. She doesn't care whether Fives wants her where she is or up to meet him or sprawled on her back underneath him, right now she just wants to touch him. "In case you're wondering, I, uh. I wouldn't mind a few bruises or bite marks."

She and Francesco never fully trusted his perception filter, and his real teeth were so sharp. Tris may not be completely inexperienced, but no one has ever bitten her. She's suddenly realized that she wants Fives to. The marks ranging over his body practically feel like an invitation to ask him.

Fives misinterprets the look she gives the burns and hurries to assure her, "You don't have to worry about any of them. Touching, I mean." And he shivers as he hands finally find their way to bare skin, stretching and shifting a little in pleasure at the touch.

He is very clearly tenting his jeans as he reaches down to cup her breasts again. "Force, you have no idea how much I want to mark you up," he admits huskily, and props one knee on the bed next to her hip. "They'll show up so pretty against your skin," he adds, looking down in obvious fascination at the contrast of his large, dark hands against the almost translucently pale skin of her breasts.

She slides her hands slowly down his chest, over the ridges of his abdominal muscles, to the waistband of his jeans. Tris leans forward to place a gentle kiss at the base of his ribcage as she unbuttons his pants.

"I wouldn't know from experience," she admits, groaning softly at his declaration. In case he was concerned about his lack of experience, Tris isn't much better off. In some ways, she has much less experience than he does. "I've only been with one person, and we never-"

But that isn't important right now, with Fives in front of her half-dressed and eager. She kisses him again, unzips his pants, and gropes him lightly with one hand as she uses the other to tug his jeans a few inches down his hips. With a shuddering breath, she tilts her head back to smile up at him.

The muscles of his chest and abdomen shiver visibly as she trails her fingers over them and he groans softly at the brush of her lips. He starts to reach for her head, but catches himself partway and sets his hand on her shoulder instead, then slides it down her arm, just to feel her.

"I guess we'll find out together, then, cyar'ika," he murmurs, then gasps as she slides a hand into his pants and his hips jerk helplessly into her touch. "Ah... Force." He helps her shove his pants down, putting both feet back on the floor so he can step out of them, smiling down at her with a kind of hopeless adoration the entire time.

Tris notices the aborted gesture out of the corner of her eye appreciatively. It's nice that he didn't need reminding, even while very clearly distracted.

Both the endearment and the completely captivated way he looks at her hit Tris hard. She can't quite bear to sit anymore, with Fives at arm's length. Standing as he leaves his pants on the floor, Tris immediately wraps an arm around his waist and reaches up with the other to pull him down for a kiss. She groans at the feeling of him pressed up against her, all warm skin and solid muscle.

He leans down eagerly for the kiss, and can't help rocking into the sweet, soft warmth of her pressed against him, his cock sliding along her belly and leaving a slick trail in its wake. He lets both hands roam, now, calloused fingers tenderly exploring everywhere he can reach; from her neck and shoulders, down her arms, across her back and ribs and hips.

It's all fascinating, so soft and yielding where he's only ever felt hard muscle, and he groans raggedly against her lips before pulling reluctantly away. "Your turn now," he informs her, light and warm and playful as he gives himself a moment to caress and cup the wonderful weight of her breasts before sliding his hands lower still, to the waistband of her drawers.

He gives her a moment to make sure she isn't going to protest, and then... slides smoothly down to his knees in front of her. He pauses on the way to mouth at the delicate hollow at the base of her throat and the tantalizing curves of her breasts, before he finally presses his lips almost reverently to the sweet softness of her stomach, his breath warm and moist against her skin right above the waistband, and then begins to ease them down.

Tris's fingertips press hard on his lower back for a second as Fives thrusts against her stomach. Then she loosens her grip and traces her hands lightly up along the contours of his back muscles to his shoulders, runs a thumbnail down his spine, just enjoys the feel of Fives under her hands.

"Go ahead," she tells him when he pauses for permission. "I want you to."

She makes small, appreciative noises at each of the kisses on his way down, and shivers as Fives exhales against her skin. One hand settles on his shoulder, the other on the side of his neck. Tris drags her thumb along his jaw and down over his throat as she watches him in rapt anticipation.

He knows it's going to be different, he's felt her through the layers of clothes already, and he even saw--once, long ago--a contraband pornographic holo that one of his brothers had gotten off of a navy crew member of he Resolute. He hadn't... really seen the point of if, though, and had only watched a couple of minutes before wandering off to find something actually interesting to occupy what little downtime he had. So it's... not a surprise, but still a shock to slide her drawers down and find everything soft and smooth, nothing but a triangular patch of red curls at the apex of her thighs.

He pushes her drawers the rest of the way down, his hands still trailing over her skin, but his attention is abruptly fixated. He presses his lips to her belly again before moving down, leaving a series of small, reverent kisses in his wake as he nerves himself up to more. She smells different too, less salty and bitter, more... musky, he thinks. Rich. It's not at all off-putting, he's just nervous. Of the relative unknown, of doing... something, anything wrong.

Tris can't help being at least a little awkward and apprehensive in the moment in between, where she has time to stop and think about anyone looking at her without her clothes on. However enthusiastic he's been about it thus far.

Her cheeks flush again, and she asks, "How do you want to do this? By which I mean, what would make you most comfortable? You can explore and ask questions if you want to, or I could guide your hand to start with, or..." Whatever he wants, just please rescue her and intervene before she keeps babbling.

Her nerves will settle quickly enough.

There is absolutely no mistaking the relief in his expression when he tips his head up to meet her eyes. He's absolutely still incredibly aroused and interested, but anxiety is creeping in, telling him he doesn't know what he's doing and he's going to screw up and she's going to hate it and doing something wrong is not okay... not safe and-

Her offer neatly cuts off the cycle of impending panic, and his hands spasm slightly at her hips as he licks his lips. "Show me what you want?" he asks immediately. "Please?"

Tris nods immediately, taking his hands to draw Fives to his feet before stepping back toward her bed. "Can I guide your hand, or do you want to watch me?"

She'd prefer the former. Tris doesn't like being looked at naked unless she has physical contact or another form of consistent positive feedback to distract her from any self consciousness that could crop up, but she'll do anything Fives wants. Of the two of them, he's clearly the one further from his comfort zone right now. She can step a little way out of hers. Especially given how he's looked at her so far.

He rises smoothly to his feet again at her urging, muscles rippling with the kind of unconscious, animal grace he was made for. He stays close, lacing their fingers together.

"... oh." The idea of watching her catches him somewhere under the ribs, both enticing and a little terrifying. He thinks it would be lovely, but he thinks he might also feel to self-consciously disconnected. "If... if you could guide me, that would be... I think I'd like that best?" But if she'd rather the other he'll acquiesce. He just wants to get this right, and he ducks his head a little, the flush of his embarrassment lost in the way his skin's already warm with arousal.

"I would too," Tris assures him emphatically, as her nerves die back down to anticipation. She was braced for either option she gave him, but this is so much more comfortable. "I'd rather have you touching me."

She settles back onto the bed and leaves room for Fives next to her. Raising his hand to her mouth rather than immediately leading it anywhere else, she kisses his fingers, then his palm. Tris skims his hand down over her body, arching slightly into the touch. She stretches up to kiss Fives before sliding his hand between her legs.

"Me too," he admits, and smiles so wide his eyes crinkle a little with it as he climbs onto the bed next to her. He likes this, it lets him see her as well as touch her. He shivers a little at the kisses to his hand, catches his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment at it. He's... sensitive about his hands, they've spent so much of his life covered in heavy gauntlets that this feels as intimate in its way as anything involving his genitals.

And then she's drawing his hand down her body and he's torn between the desire to lean in and kiss her or simply watch as she lets him skim his fingers over the lovely, smooth softness of her. He settles on the latter, loving the way she arches under his hand, how this seems to be giving her pleasure. He kisses her deeply when she stretches up, and breathes a startled breath against her lips when she finally guides his hand between her legs.

He very much needs to pull away enough to look down her body, lip caught between his teeth again as he slides his fingers carefully between her soft folds and feels the unexpected wetness there. "Oh," he breathes, eyes half-shut, and rocks a little against her thigh, leaving his own trail of dampness behind on her skin.

INBOX: lastvoyages

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