[ maybe, a part of his mind has to concede, maybe he is looking for a distraction? maybe he's looking to distract himself. because when she leans over him, bracing hands on his chest and in his collar, dark hair a curtain that falls around them and blocks out everything else, when her lips are on his like this -- it feels like there's no outside world at all.
(no themyscira. no gotham. no hooks in their bones, pulling them to different lives.)
he pushes himself up to kiss her back, weight on his elbows, but only a little. donna's being careful, of course -- she could literally crush him if she weren't -- but she's still strong, and as clumsily drunk as he is. of course he's staying. ]
Hey, [ murmured against her lips, without pulling away. ] 'm not going anywhere.
[ it seems like a backwards concern to him? donna's the one leaving eventually. never mind the way he always runs from his problems, puts miles between himself and whatever scares him. he'd never run away from donna, but he might from losing her. in six months, whenever the day comes. ]
[ he's talking and all donna can think to do, at first, is catch his lip between her teeth to tug on it, which is more just from wanting to do it than anything else. she believes him, of course, both in the immediate sense and just in general. that even though he's talking about when it'll be her time to leave, he isn't about to push her away sooner to avoid the hurt. she's sure of that. but she can't figure out how to make it clear that she's not going to suddenly disappear either, so instead
she leans back, just a bit, one hand still holding onto his shirt while her other hand reaches.. back.. to grab that pitcher of water by the handle. but it's only so she can slide it forward, up up up until it's past dick's head on the floor instead of right between them. and that's only so she can sit up over him, settling her knee on the other side of his hip, perched comfortably on his lap. ]
You're right. You're not.
[ she thinks she's very clever, yes. her knees tuck close to his sides as she leans down, her free hand now bracing herself on the floor, because yeah. no. she doesn't actually want to risk hurting him if she loses track of how she's holding herself up. she lets go of his shirt, but only so she can slip her fingers to the back of his neck instead, finally pulling him in for another kiss.
is it impulsive to follow through and keep kissing him beyond an initial kiss that may or may not have been in the heat of a too-honest moment? maybe. but so was drinking as much as they did on a week night. choices are being made, that's all. and she's... choosing to make out with her best friend. what of it. ]
[ he shivers when donna takes his lip like that, vulnerable in a way he rarely lets himself be. normally, even -- especially -- in situations like these, he defines himself by his ability to be in control. but donna's not someone to dominate, or intimidate, and more importantly, she's safe. he's safe. and for however long he'll get to have her in his life, that's always gonna be true.
but donna moving the pitcher -- and he follows with his eyes, turning his head a little to see -- lightens the mood enough to make him grin, here-and-there like a bolt of lightning. ]
You're bossy, [ he says, cheeky.
but she pulls him up and he lets her, frees his arms so he can slide his hands down her shoulders, her back. she tastes like the tequila that brought them here, and this is okay. it's a lot better than thinking. this is a totally normal decision.]
[ she'd be laying the sarcasm on thick as ever if she wasn't so busy kissing him, but she's not willing to put enough space between them for her to really raise her eyebrows and purse her lips at him as much as that token sarcasm would usually call for. normally she'd take any chance to tease him, even while they're both drunk, but it's a sacrifice she's willing to make. she's more interested in making out because
donna troy just
really loves making out.
kissing is great, it's honestly one of her favorite kinds of physical affection, especially when the other person actually knows what they're doing. and it's not just because she was told she shouldn't be kissing guys nearly her whole life, it's not just an act of rebellion or something although that does make it a little more fun, it's just fun and simple, which is a nice change compared to everything else. she loves it, whether it's rushed and stupid, or slow and ...stupid, okay this is still probably stupid, they're not teenagers anymore, they can't afford to make dumbass decisions just because they're drunk-
but they are, so. there's no rush, no endgame to move along to. dick knows how to kiss her because they've done this before, even if that was ages ago. and it's funny, right, because they've trained and trained just to be able to sync up during a fight, but when it comes to kissing, they seem to fall right back into place, like it hasn't been years. it's like sparring, sort of. complete with an apology at the ready if she accidentally kicks his ass.
in a... sexy way.
look, she's too drunk to think much more than she already has, she's maxed out on using her big brain. so for now she's just following sensation, back slowly arching with the path of his hands, which means her hips move over his too, but she's too caught up in everything else to worry about it. ]
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(no themyscira. no gotham. no hooks in their bones, pulling them to different lives.)
he pushes himself up to kiss her back, weight on his elbows, but only a little. donna's being careful, of course -- she could literally crush him if she weren't -- but she's still strong, and as clumsily drunk as he is. of course he's staying. ]
Hey, [ murmured against her lips, without pulling away. ] 'm not going anywhere.
[ it seems like a backwards concern to him? donna's the one leaving eventually. never mind the way he always runs from his problems, puts miles between himself and whatever scares him. he'd never run away from donna, but he might from losing her. in six months, whenever the day comes. ]
no subject
she leans back, just a bit, one hand still holding onto his shirt while her other hand reaches.. back.. to grab that pitcher of water by the handle. but it's only so she can slide it forward, up up up until it's past dick's head on the floor instead of right between them. and that's only so she can sit up over him, settling her knee on the other side of his hip, perched comfortably on his lap. ]
You're right. You're not.
[ she thinks she's very clever, yes. her knees tuck close to his sides as she leans down, her free hand now bracing herself on the floor, because yeah. no. she doesn't actually want to risk hurting him if she loses track of how she's holding herself up. she lets go of his shirt, but only so she can slip her fingers to the back of his neck instead, finally pulling him in for another kiss.
is it impulsive to follow through and keep kissing him beyond an initial kiss that may or may not have been in the heat of a too-honest moment? maybe. but so was drinking as much as they did on a week night. choices are being made, that's all. and she's... choosing to make out with her best friend. what of it. ]
no subject
but donna moving the pitcher -- and he follows with his eyes, turning his head a little to see -- lightens the mood enough to make him grin, here-and-there like a bolt of lightning. ]
You're bossy, [ he says, cheeky.
but she pulls him up and he lets her, frees his arms so he can slide his hands down her shoulders, her back. she tastes like the tequila that brought them here, and this is okay. it's a lot better than thinking. this is a totally normal decision. ]
no subject
[ she'd be laying the sarcasm on thick as ever if she wasn't so busy kissing him, but she's not willing to put enough space between them for her to really raise her eyebrows and purse her lips at him as much as that token sarcasm would usually call for. normally she'd take any chance to tease him, even while they're both drunk, but it's a sacrifice she's willing to make. she's more interested in making out because
donna troy just
really loves making out.
kissing is great, it's honestly one of her favorite kinds of physical affection, especially when the other person actually knows what they're doing. and it's not just because she was told she shouldn't be kissing guys nearly her whole life, it's not just an act of rebellion or something
although that does make it a little more fun, it's just fun and simple, which is a nice change compared to everything else. she loves it, whether it's rushed and stupid, or slow and ...stupid, okay this is still probably stupid, they're not teenagers anymore, they can't afford to make dumbass decisions just because they're drunk-but they are, so. there's no rush, no endgame to move along to. dick knows how to kiss her because they've done this before, even if that was ages ago. and it's funny, right, because they've trained and trained just to be able to sync up during a fight, but when it comes to kissing, they seem to fall right back into place, like it hasn't been years. it's like sparring, sort of. complete with an apology at the ready if she accidentally kicks his ass.
in a... sexy way.
look, she's too drunk to think much more than she already has, she's maxed out on using her big brain. so for now she's just following sensation, back slowly arching with the path of his hands, which means her hips move over his too, but she's too caught up in everything else to worry about it. ]