Room 6620, Post Deluge

[lady_bols]

She is soaked to the skin and out of breath when they hit the back door of the bar.   And for all it was a summer downpour, it was not a warm shower either.  If only she'd worn something more than a silk tunic.  The water has plastered her hair and clothes to her skin, but if anything, it's raised her mood.

She looks over at him, her hands pushing her hair back out of her eyes, grinning at him.

'Why is it every time we go for a walk, I come back needing another shower, hmm?'

Comments

[the_gene_genie]

'Reasons for it were more fun last time.'

He doesn't enjoy being soaked through when wearing a rugby shirt. Those things get heavy, and then glue to the skin. He grimaces down at himself, but returns her smile with no problem.

'Go on up, and get in. I'll bring some drinks, an' dinner.'

[lady_bols]

'Tea,' she says, leaning in to brush a kiss against his cheek.

'I need something to warm me up.'

A wait rat offers them each a towel, and she takes hers, wrapping it around her shoulders so she can dry her hair somewhat. At least she won't drip on the floor as she crosses the room.

She pauses at the doorway to look back at him, glad of the chance to have a bit of space but still needing to see that he's all right.

He's always all right. He's Gene Hunt, isn't he? She hopes that time and distance from Farringfield Green will relieve his anguish, if not restore him fully. She has to remind herself that he's young underneath that brash exterior. Young and full of rage against all that he's lost. All that's been taken from him, and no one to blame but himself. The coming days, weeks, and months, if they're lucky, will prove difficult.

But her heart is in it now, and there's no turning back.

She waits until he disappears in the crowd before heading upstairs. This time she just strips down to bare skin, leaving her wet clothes on the bathroom floor. A hot bath sounds divine, so she puts in the plug and starts the water. And then she thinks of the biggest, fluffiest cotton towelling robe she can, and heads for the wardrobe.

Trust the magic bar to hear and provide. She takes one for herself, and pulls out the other, leaving it laying on the bed for him when he returns.

[the_gene_genie]

He lights up a fag, and goes to the bar. He's hungry, finally, and orders a couple of huge bacon and egg baps, dripping hot fat over soft, warm bread. A mug of tea for her, sweet coffee for him, and some chocolate for after. He never grew out of a sweet tooth, and she's told him she likes the stuff too.

He heads for the stairs, then backtracks and gets a couple more bottles of red. Wouldn't do to run low on that.

In the room, he sets the stuff down and strips at once. Things are immediately better when he's shed the wet stuff, and he sticks the robe on because he'll want a shower after her.

'Got some food,' he says through the door, though he doesn't know if she'll hear him over the shower. Though come to think of it, he can't hear it running.

[lady_bols]

'In here,' she calls.

No shower, just the tap, and the sound of gentle splashing as she rises from beneath the surface, sputtering a bit before she wipes her face clear.

'You're welcome to join me if you like.'

[the_gene_genie]

'Next time.'

He opens the door, disappears, and comes back with food. The tea is placed on the side of the bath, and he hands her the bap. Then he flicks the seat down on the toilet, washes his hands and goes for his own food.

'Don't want to get egg in the water,' he says, by way of explanation, though that might not be the whole thing. He just sits and tucks in, struck suddenly by how domestic this seems.

Maybe he should go eat at the table. But it's nice, and they can chat like this.

[lady_bols]

'Mmmm, thank you.' She sits up and takes the sandwich, folding back the paper with delicate fingertips. 'I'm sorry, I just got chilled and needed a warm up.'

It's delicious, the egg yolk spilling over the bread and running down her chin. She catches it before it drips, but it means licking her fingers. The tea is just as good, and maybe his presence makes this just that much closer to perfect.

'So tell me about Bullit.'

[the_gene_genie]

He watches her lick her fingers, momentarily distracted.

'It's, uh-' he clears his throat, and takes a bite of his own bap to cover, '-s'got Steve McQueen in it. He's a copper going after a crime boss, basically.'

He hasn't done it justice.

'Beautiful motor. It's good.'

And it's got Steve McQueen in it. So.

[lady_bols]

'Lots of car chases, I take it?'

It takes a lot of concentration to eat a sandwich in the bath, especially one as messy as this one is. She has to keep licking her lips, and taking small bites.

[the_gene_genie]

'Mmm.'

And she's got soap on her tits.


He clears his throat again, and forces himself to look away.

'Lots. There's a classic one in San Francis- would you stop doing that, please?'

He snaps it out, but nothing about it sounds annoyed. A little pained, if anything.

[lady_bols]

She freezes mid-bite, eyes wide, looking up at him.

'Wha'? Whad I do?'

Its unladylike to talk with a mouthful, she knows, but, she's utterly confused as to what's set him off this time.

[the_gene_genie]

His gaze has swivelled back to her chest of its own volition.

'...licking,' he mutters, and shifts a bit on his perch.

[lady_bols]

She relaxes, and shoots him an amused look.

'I'm eating. Eating involves using lips and tongue. And I'm trying not to make a mess.'

She catches the look he's giving her and shifts to give him a better view.

'Don't worry. You'll get your turn in a bit.'

[the_gene_genie]

His eyebrows shoot up, and he smiles without meaning to.

'Yeah?'

OK. Good.

He eats his sandwich. Fairly wolfs it down actually, and his eyes don't shift from her breasts. They're bound to be warm in there, and there's all bubbles over them, and damnit, it's really inconvenient to get a lob-on when you're in a dressing-gown. It gets difficult to hide. But he can't stop it, because he's tired and, frankly, lacks the will.

[lady_bols]

She eventually gives up trying to eat daintily, and just tucks in properly, leaning on her elbows over the edge of the tub until she finishes. The paper wrapper is balled up and tossed into the bin, as is the napkin after she wipes the corners of her mouth.

That done, she sinks back into the water, watching him with a lazy smile on her face.

'You sure you don't want to join me?'

[the_gene_genie]

He drains his mug, and stands.

'Might as well.'

He'd been planning to exercise some restraint today. Still get her back in bed, obviously, but without acting like a teenager about it. But she's right there, and soapy, and what's the point in trying to resist?

'Shift forward. I'm not taking the tap end.'

[lady_bols]

She grins up at him and does just that, shifting forward and wrapping her hands around her knees to give him plenty of room.

When he settles, she looks over her shoulder, sliding back until she's resting against his chest.

'There, how's that?'

[the_gene_genie]

'It'll do.'

His hands are already sliding around to her chest. It'll do, all right.

'Mmm.'

Excuse him while he plays for a minute.

[lady_bols]

Her hands cover his briefly, her head lolling back against his shoulder, her eyes falling closed. The water is warm, chasing away the chill, and with the gentle touch of his hands, she starts to relax properly.

She purrs her contentment, gently petting him wherever she can reach.

'This is nice.'

[the_gene_genie]

'I'll say.'

He certainly seems to be taking an inordinate amount of pleasure in rubbing soft handfuls of bubbles over her tits. Sometimes he fondles her nipples, sometimes pulls his fingernails gently along the underside. The result is the same for him - breathing quiet but heavy, and rock hard against the swell of her backside between his legs.

[lady_bols]

She smiles as he plays, her breath steady and even until his mouth strays near her ear. She seems content just to let him do as he pleases, while she lets all the stress of their earlier conversation dissolve in the warm water.

'Can I tell you a secret, love?'

[the_gene_genie]

'Mmm,' he says, in the affirmative, and presses his lips to her neck. A hand slides down her stomach.

'Long as it's not that you're somehow a secret bloke.'

[lady_bols]

She sputters quiet laugh, the sound melting into a purr with the press of his lips.

'For pete's sake, love. I am not now, nor have I ever been, a man.' Her hand guides his back up to her tits, gently but firmly.

[the_gene_genie]

'Good,' he murmurs, against her skin, and goes back to playing with her nipples.

That's a relief.

'What, then?'

[lady_bols]

She hums again, lifting her chin and nuzzling against his jaw. One hand rises, curling around his head, nails grazing through the short hairs at his nape.

’Nothing too complicated. Just...’ He does something and her breath hitches. ’My oral fixation, goes both ways.’ She sounds distracted, maybe because he's doing a good job of making her lose her train of thought.

[the_gene_genie]

'You mean I have to give it to get it.'

He sounds quietly amused, maybe like he just assumed that was how things were anyway, or perhaps just because she brought it up quite so blatantly.

He doesn't give any indication of what he thinks about it. Just kisses her, seeing as her mouth is there, and so inviting.