There we stand about to fly (For Moira - Artfest / NSFW)

[jamesthorn]

Heading home from the art festival, James instructs the cab driver to swing by the market near the boardwalk. When he does remember to shop, he prefers to shop here because they had good produce and they sold seafood fresh from the coastal waters surrounding town. There was no better place to find seafood. He quickly finds everything he needs and goes home.

Soon after leaving moira earlier, he had realized that the only thing he truly knew how to cook, that was reasonably appropriate, was lobster. His mother taught him once, when she was throwing some beach shindig for a few family friends, and she had insisted on preparing the food herself. Something nearly unheard of considering their kitchen staff. But, his mother had said her mother and grandmother had passed the recipe onto her. James remembers being fascinated by the tradition, and he makes the dish more than once a year when he found a reason. Sometimes just to remember....

As he looks around, he once again thinks maybe it's too much food. His kitchen is full of pots and pans, his stove clarifying butter, the oven heating a crusty loaf of bread. He places the salad he finishes into the fridge, knowing there's nothing he can do now. He just kicks himself, not knowing what the fuck he's doing lately. Cooking dinner for Moira, excited by the idea of her company for the evening. How was he going to explain this if anyone found out?

He can't do anything about it now. Might as well accept that he's put himself in this position. He manages to make it up the stairs reasonably easy. He showers quickly, needing the hot summer day and the cab ride rinsed away from him. He changes into a pair of jeans and a navy henley. He puts on his walking boot again but just sticks a sock on his other foot. It is seven o'clock when he gets back downstairs. He finishes the last of the food until his guest arrives.

Comments

Re: NSFW

[chasingtwisters]

Moira feels like she's forgetting something, some crucial step before they take this any further. When James initially asks her to wait, she gets the sense that he, too, recalls some of the finer details involved with this sort of thing. But then, he's looking up at her like a starving man gasping for water, beautiful eyes blown wide and fluttering with each heave of his chest. And the way he focuses those eyes on her, like she's the only girl in the world. Fuck, how is she supposed to concentrate on anything else besides him looking at her like that?

"Good," she replies as he reaches for her and ensnares her in another kiss, his hands in her hair as she moves down closer towards him.

She pulls back only to look him directly in the eyes as she positions herself over him, teasing him a bit by slowly decreasing the distance between them. There's something entirely intoxicating about him beneath her like this, face flushed as they make their way closer and closer to the edge.

She crashes their lips together only when she moves down on top of him, crushing their hips together as she sets a fast, desperate pace.

Re: NSFW

[jamesthorn]

This--sex with Moira--is urgent and direct. Something is quite relentless about the movement of their bodies, about the heat covering them, about their lips barely touching, as though if they slow down even for a mere second there might be a break in the strange hold that's overtaken them. Making them think better of this, make them realize this could be a very bad mistake. He looks up at her, not actually meaning to make as much eye contact as he does, but he watches as she sways and writhes against him, only broken when he is compelled to kiss her again. He feels extraordinarily close to Moira in the moment, as though there's something deeper to their connection, that maybe this isn't just a really bad decision during a one-time type of night. But it's hard to consider the thought for long because he's barely keeping it together as it is.

Her breath goes jagged against his lips, and he is curses out a few words, fuck and yes and god, but she never lets up her desperately fast pace until he squeezes his hands and fingernails into her skin, until he comes. His stomach actually lurching once or twice from the force of it before he's just rests his forehead on her shoulder for a few seconds because that was amazing. Brilliant maybe. He doesn't really know how to describe it, but it happened.

That just happened. Eventually she moves off him. He swallows down, his throat dry now, as he attempts to catch his breath back. His head spins with every thought under the sun. From should they do that again to what the hell happened to it was only dinner to oh god she's a witch.

"Oh my god..." James says, overwhelmed by this, by her, and he just holds his head, rubbing his hands over his face.

Re: NSFW

[chasingtwisters]

Moira can't keep herself from looking at James as she moves against him, unable to contain the snap of her hips or the way she almost loses control just by meeting his gaze, blurred by both desire and something deeper she really doesn't want to consider just now. The fact that they're both not fully undressed only adds to the urgency, the sheer, brisk pace of it all as they come together and part in movements as sharp as a rough tide.

He pulls her to him in a kiss, an intense, desperate meeting of lips that feels as wonderful as the way the rest of their bodies connect, sparks flying between them like lightning.

Her head falls into a bow as she feels him come undone beneath, spurring on her own release as she leans in to gasp in time with it against his ear. Shit, but she can't remember the last time doing that felt so goddamn good. It's as though they've spiraled together into outer space, disconnected with the ground and reality both.

"Fuck," she mutters, moving off of him as she tries to wrap her head around the fact that they just fucked. A Coombs and a Thornton, like something out of a fucked up fairy tale.

Re: NSFW

[jamesthorn]

There's a long deafening silence afterwards. A silence of reality beating them over the heads. A silence of families and curses and witches. He gathers himself, letting his slightly trembling fingers fall to his pants, managing to get them back up and zipped, without a word to her. He needs a shower now from the sweat and stains, and he's just freaking out because how do they carry on now? They just had sex. Good sex. Yes. He can admit that to himself. But it was still sex with a Coombs. He didn't know how to reconcile those two things together. How to want Moira but know he wasn't supposed to want her.

Maybe the start of it was getting her out of his house, out of his general space, where he could smell and see her, because neither of these things was actually helping his thought process. After what's just happened, he needs time alone to think. Really really needs that. But he just sits there, only barely able to look at her, at the state of her dress and hair. She's a wreck. Defiled and smeared and just wrecked. He's not smiling. He's not laughing. This isn't funny. Except it is. They had just blown each other's damn minds. He just manages to bite back the smile threatening to take shape.

Despite any props for the A+ sex, he was still stuck on the bigger question. What the fuck happens now? He shakes his head grabbing his crutches from the ground. "On that note, I think..." He stands back up, all the blood rushing back to his body. He was going to be a disaster tomorrow. He could already tell. "We can call it night."