acaseofyou | open post

Have to be something that gets me on my knees. How you feel about knighting?

Hmmm... Having an internal battle between distaste for monarchies and wanting to see you on your knees. Let me think about it a minute.

With your politics, fact it's even a debate is goddamn flattering

I was hoping you'd think so. It is a challenge, but I think I could manage it. For you.

Guess this means I gotta do something extra worthy, ya know
While I'm down there

I've definitely got a few ideas as to your options.

Wouldn't say no to some inspiration for my knightly feats, if you wanted to share.

Well, the first one that comes to mind involves you having to lean me up against a wall first so I don't fall down and my skirt up, if that's knightly enough for you to go with.

Only a super shitty knight would let you fall. Let's give me SOME credit

Like to hear more about your skirt going up though. For research purposes.

Oh, I have every faith in you and your knightly skills. Thought about them for a while. It's my legs that don't get any credit.

My skirt, though... The one I've got on now is long enough I'll have to hold it. So I can see you down on your knees properly and everything.

I could help you with that. Flip it out of the way, so you can see me, and I can see your bare legs
Assessing them for structural integrity of course

Oh, of course. Very practical.
Though I am hoping you'll get a little distracted when you see there's more bare than just my legs.

Uhhhh yeah
Yeah that'll do it

[ distract him, that is ]

You said you're wearing this skirt now?

Fantastic

[ Just as hastily planned. ]

I am. It's green, if that's important for your assessments.

If you're also wearing nothing under it, like right now

It's really not important.

[ like this whole exchange has been fun, but--

funny how quick silly horny can turn serious. ]

Just me and the breeze under here right now, Vasiliy.

Plenty of room for a knight.

[ She follows this up with a picture of her legs, one still covered in green skirt fabric and the other very seriously exposed up to her hip. ]

[ One screen-flash of her thigh has him gawking, compounded by the bared round of hip above. And he's seen a naked leg or two in his day, okay??

But oh, not Birdie's.

It takes him a bit to remember what the shit's a knight. ]

That's worth kneeling for alright.

Spent a lot of time thinking bout how fast I could get you out of your jeans
Shame on my brain for never supplying this alternative

[ It's a little wild that a picture so relatively tame, compared to what usually passes for enticing photography, still works so damn well.

Not just for him, either, because his reaction has her wondering if she should just call a cab. ]

You can spend that time better without a button fly, yeah?

Just think how quick you can get your hands on me if you tossed me up in the air like this.

[ The mental image evoked by that is more explicit by far. Though what Fet texts in reply genuinely doesn't give him any less of a rush. ]

Like to think about the noises you'd make. Your voice really revs my engine, you know that right?
Not even the whole serious songstress thing. Just the sound of you chatting and cracking up and humming those little hmmmmmmmmmms to yourself

Seems like every time you do that shit I wanna hear how good I could make you feel. With my hands, my mouth, all the rest of me too.

[ Talk about a rush. Usually, 'get your blood pumping' is a metaphor, but Fet has a talent for getting her pulse rate going. ]

I do make noises when I've thought about you, and your hands, and the rest of you. Wondered if when you tell me how you want me your voice would do that thing where it gets really low and quiet, if it'd change when I get my mouth on you.

Had to bite my tongue about it a couple times. Thinking now I should've just let you hear it.

Guess we were both holding back a bit. [ Which, for his part, could turn this convo more serious than it's already gone (at least compared to pinecones and hedgehogs and envelope licking start-ups). But the prospect doesn't discourage him. ]

Maybe we should quit that.

[ Birdie does take a moment to consider how serious this is going to get. All told, it's a short moment. He'll hardly even notice a pause. ]

Yeah, I think you're right. I think we should start quitting that immediately.

[ Definitely not discouraged, here. Still, there's the possibility he'll lay it all out. Not just how much he wants her, but how much he likes her, has fun with her and doesn't want to fuck that up.

But that pic she sent hasn't left his mind's eye for a millisec. Nor the thought of her under that skirt, just her and the lucky fucking breeze, while she thinks about him.

So what he sends is: ]

Where are you and can I come there

[ There's a longer pause this time. Partly because it takes her a bit to figure out how to share a location on the little map.

Mostly it's because she considers, before hitting send, how reckless what she's about to do is. Bringing anyone back to her place is rare, no matter how much she likes them. And she likes him more than Kindred more cunning than herself would consider wise or practical. She's been pretty good at keeping things more distant, more practical, but maybe it's the wanting him now and knowing for certain beyond jokes and teasing that he wants her that pushes this to foolishness.

Birdie hits send, sharing the address of her haven in the Village. Some cheap studio walk-up with high ceilings but considerably less square feet than his. ]

See you soon

[ Fet's moving even before he sees the soon, and it looks like he'll be the one calling a cab. Which he does utilize from time to time; though anyone could be forgiven for thinking he'd sworn them off, with how willingly he tools around this city in his freakin' work truck.

Fortunately this wasn't a work night. He's already cleaned up and prepped to go out (food shopping, mind you, 'cause sometimes that's just a productive evening's start). All he needs to do is grab his wallet and stuff, throw on size-sixteen clodhoppers and hit the road.

Still, twenty minutes out of Red Hook and through the Battery Tunnel feels like eons. He thinks about texting her something giddy and dumb, but doesn't because the cabbie randomly decides to be chatty. When they drop him off he could almost be masochistically glad of having had the time to settle. Only he bounds up the stairs, several at a stride, and when he knocks on her apartment door it isn't the effort that has his heart doing bunny binky leaps in his chest. ]

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