The Arms Hotel, Pillow Suite, Sunday night

[lovemykilt]

Priestly poured himself his -- okay, he'd lost count -- next drink, taking a sip even as he recapped the bottle. He knew he was maybe going a bit overboard with the drinking, tonight, but the thought that tomorrow he'd be back in his house in LA, facing down all the questions Selene was going to have about his trip and another week of whatever crazy idea the producers had for the show was enough to drive him a little bit mad.

"Right. This one looks simple enough. We should have all the ingredients in here, somewhere." He'd done a fairly random grocery trip earlier, picking up some basic staples along with a bottle of wine and the scotch he was currently drinking. He looked up at Dinah. "You want some meat, or should we go for a light pasta dish?"

Comments

[blondecanary.livejournal.com]

Not yet she didn't being tipsy, and now edging toward as drunk second-hand as Priestly. But give her a few minutes, and that wouldn't be automatic repetition of something comforting that felt nice.

Dinah kept stroking his arm, peering at him worriedly, and a little more fuzzily, then beamed. "Good. I didn't want to say, but it freaked me out to see you in that. Like you weren't you. Anti-Priestly. I mean. There's limits, you know? Ties. Are one of them." She pouted a little, then grinned again, mood bubbling over to pleased. "So you're not going to be married to her any more? Yay! Kate and I don't have to hijack the show!"

Hmm. Wineglass over there. Oh, right. She TK'd it to herself, and took another sip, teetering slightly.

[lovemykilt]

"You guys were gonna hijack my show?" Awwwwww. Priestly grinned and leaned over to press his forehead against hers.

Touching. Touching touching touching. She felt nice.

"That . . . woulda been kinda awesome. Or, like, 'sorry, Bill, I can't do the show this week, I been kidnapped by my high school friends.' He'd throw a fit."

[blondecanary.livejournal.com]

Awww. Nice. They'd done this, sometimes, way long time ago. Dinah looped an arm around his shoulder and leaned back, smiling. You feel nice too, she thought at him, and then snickered.

"We'd hold you for ransom," Dinah said, working to keep her speech unslurred. "Noooo giving back the chef 'til you get some better sous. And keep out the Wicked Witch of the West Coast." Say that five times fast. She sighed, and stared. "Your eyes are really really green this close. Hmm."

[lovemykilt]

"Yeah?" No one had been that close to his eyes in a while. Well, except maybe someone trying to zoom in on them in screenshots or publicity photos. "Yours are really, really pretty."

A thought occurred to him. A strange one, one that twenty years ago would have sent him flailing into fits of shock. Right now, though, it just seemed . . . natural.

He wanted to know what she tasted like.

[blondecanary.livejournal.com]

"Thank you. Green. And green. We match."

Priestly's thought would've had Dinah of twenty years ago protesting that something was wrong, one of them was crazy, but Dinah of right now had an immediate response of answering curiosity. And thinking that if something looked nice, and sounded nice (and Priestly always sounded nice) and felt nice, then, logically, it would taste nice.

She licked her lips, eyelids drooping. Warm. S'nice. Cuddled just slightly closer. Leaned against Priestly, noting absently that they were a good height for... this. Whatever.

[lovemykilt]

"Were always a good match," Priestly commented, tilting his head a bit closer. It crossed his mind how lucky they were that this was a room full of pillows. No sharp corners to accidentally bump into if they got . . . distracted.

"I kinda wanna," he said, then the rest of the sentence got lost as his lips met hers.

[blondecanary.livejournal.com]

"Mmmmmmmmmm," was Dinah's non-verbal agreement, huskier than it had been when they were teens. Several semi-connected thoughts ping-ponged through her head; the one time they'd kissed during the pollen week, and how good that had been; the pillow thread from Priestly's mind continuing in hers to, and if we fall over, no bruises; that almost six years was a really long time not to do something she liked this much; and finally back to holy hell I'm kissing Priestly and it's really, really hot.

The babble kind of trailed off back to Mmmmmm after that.

[lovemykilt]

Priestly's thought process wasn't nearly so coherent as that, and mostly involved wanting way more touching. And the idea that maybe there was a bit too much clothing in the way. He pressed forward a little more firmly, body moving towards a horizontal position, and hoped she'd move with him.

[blondecanary.livejournal.com]

See, and he was totally underestimating both the telepathy and the telekinesis there. Because as soon as Dinah picked up on that, she sent, Awesome. Yes. Now. Good! and turned to drop back into the nearest bank of cushions, dragging him with her so they'd land without getting hurt. And possibly ripping open his shirt as soon as she had leverage.

Too many clothes! Help?

[lovemykilt]

You know, he'd kind of forgotten that she could literally read his mind. Priestly grinned, thinking a nice, emphatic fuck yeah back at her as he put his fingers to work as best he could, both on her clothes and investigating every inch of her skin.

Things might get more complicated later, but right now, this was Dinah, and he was Priestly, and what they were doing was the simplest thing in the world.

[blondecanary.livejournal.com]

Which Dinah returned with interest, compound and possibly the kind from once-in-a-life-time investments, especially when the clothes finally got flung other places, the pillows finally stopped shifting, and the last verbal thought died in a very, very happy wave of ohhhhh yes.

Dinah threw all thoughts of complicated away, because hey, this was good and happy after way too long of neither and she'd trusted Priestly for how long? And she had his back. Well, all of him. So any bad would be outside forces they could deal with. Together.

Later. Much, much, much later.