cut our teeth and make our bones right here

we're always running scared but holding knives

They aren't not kisses either, and each brush of his lips sends plumes of heat low through Isla's belly. It's both strange and not, to meet Remi as an equal like this - as they should be - and to see the altogether charming man forced to bear the weight of a wendigo's hunger and violence. To say that Isla is twitterpated is an understatement, and for all of her attempts to walk the ethical line, it's been obvious that she likes Remi for a while.

"As funny as that would be, I think I'd prefer it if neither of our mothers made an appearance right now," she admits; Isla's parents were of the prim and proper variety, so no doubt they'd have a lot to say about this. "And I could always find excuses to take longer with your checkups," she adds, as if that would help the time go by slower.

Except this isn't a checkup, they aren't in his sterile room in the medical wing, and they don't need to be talking about torture. Huffing a laugh at her own flustered reactions, Isla gives Remi's shoulders a gentle squeeze. "Whatever you think I deserve," she says softly, "would you please just kiss me now?"

Isla

Remi

Welcome to the wild, no heroes and villains
Welcome to the war, we've only begun

"I wouldn't object to that." Remi says against Isla's neck; she could measure the length of his fingernails if it kept her around longer. Much as the doctor's feelings for Remi were likely skewed somewhat heavily by the role she played in his life as healer and protector, so too were his feelings equally complicated by the fact that, up until recently, Isla had been one of the only good things in his life.

But never mind that now.

A smile pulses on the wendigo's lips, and though one might expect him to instantly follow Isla's command, he doesn't. Instead, he drinks her in: her upturned face, the shine of the window light splaying out across her skin, all the shades of blue in her eyes and the flush of pink on her cheeks. Holding her just like that with his eyes, clearly imprinting the moment in his memory, only then does the wendigo allow himself to nod. "As you wish."

And so he does.

Leaning forward, his hand still cradling the back of her head and her lower back, Remi kisses Isla in precisely the opposite way he'd kissed Ronin. His tongue is slow but reactive, like a bit of silk buffeting about on a lazy breeze, and though he'd have very much liked to maintain some semblance of control, his fingers tremble against her as a moan shivers from his parted lips against hers.

Higher and higher you chase it
It's deep in your blood, go and take it

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

we're always running scared but holding knives

Remi isn't the only one indulging in all the little details; this is hardly natural light, but up here away from the harsh fluorescents of the medical wing, she can appreciate how vividly green his eyes are. And for a second her breath catches, Isla able to overlay this boyish, charming version of Remi with the gold-ringed gaze of yesterday's predator. Instead of flushed cheeks, his lips are painted crimson with blood, and instead of soft touches, cool fingers encircle her wrist with precisely the correct amount of pressure, walking a tightrope without a safety net beneath it.

And then his lips are upon hers and somehow both versions of Remi make absolute sense. Melting flush against him, she loops an arm around his neck and reaches up with her free hand to clasp his jaw with gentle fingers, as if he might change his mind. Swallowing up the moan that shivers from his throat, its nevertheless another long, indulgent few seconds before Isla can muster the self-control to even come up for air.

Even then she barely parts from him, drawing a breath that feels unnecessary and planting a kiss against the corner of his mouth.

Isla

Remi

Welcome to the wild, no heroes and villains
Welcome to the war, we've only begun

Pressing his forehead against hers, wholly undone by a simple kiss in ways he'll never be able to articulate, Remi breathes raggedly against Isla's lips. Caught between the sensation of wanting to have her as he'd had Ronin given the bright and tangible realness of her beneath his fingers, and wanting to bathe in the sweetness of genuine affection, Remi is nevertheless reminded of who and what he'd always strained to be in moments like these, even if he was years out of practice.

Helpless against the plume of heat that the nearness of her had instigated in his belly, Remi's fingers spread against Isla's lower back; despite how attractive her choice of sweater dress was, gods but it meant there was no easy way to feel her skin beneath the fabric. Kissing her again, slowly at first that he might memorize every sensation that accompanied the parting of their lips and the press of their tongues, the wendigo shivered slightly with restraint as much as sensory bliss.

Now it was Remi's turn to part from Isla, his eyes mostly closed even as his eyelashes fluttered. Swallowing hard, his expression bled from smile to wince and back again as he fought inwardly with the urge to give into the demands of his body. "This is almost more difficult than it was yesterday." He admits, voice dry and rough.

Higher and higher you chase it
It's deep in your blood, go and take it

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

we're always running scared but holding knives

Isla, too, is starting to regret her choice of wardrobe for the day, but if nothing else it means Remi can enjoy her curves if not the warmth of her bare skin (yet). Humming soft approval against his lips as they meet her own once more, the doctor is nearly overcome with the sudden urge to grasp Remi's hands and direct them to all the most impolite places, but gods, the whole point of this is that he can actually choose to do what he wants for himself.

And so they both end up hilariously frustrated, Isla trying to chase fruitlessly after the kiss he draws away from, left softly panting and smiling up at him. "The consequences of giving into it today are hardly life-threatening," she points out, and while she knows Remi is trying to be a gentleman, she has no idea how he expects her to be a lady when he's kissing her like this.

Since he's not wearing a sweater dress, the doctor has no qualms about letting her hands press indulgently down the length of his back until she can tease her fingers beneath the hem of his shirt, seeking out the warmth of his skin.

Isla

Remi

Welcome to the wild, no heroes and villains
Welcome to the war, we've only begun

'Are you sure about that?" Said in such a way that it seems more like a genuine question than any sort of line, the wendigo smiles ruefully while glancing up momentarily as if just the break in eye contact might somehow allow him to grasp back at his sanity.

Huffing out a rather desperate sigh that he immediately looks guilty about as Isla's fingers press against his back, Remi bites at the inside of one lip which only makes the dimple on that cheek sag slightly. "I hope you know how beautiful you are." He whispers, and though gods he's starting to think they aren't going to make it out of the apartment, for better or worse, she had asked him earlier what he'd wanted and now he thought perhaps he had an answer worth sharing.

"For all the times you have saved me, and not with any medicine or machine...what I want is to-" Pressing his lips against hers again, his hand drawing her tightly against him, Remi pulls back only slightly, leaving just enough space for his words. "-make you feel good. If you will allow me."

Higher and higher you chase it
It's deep in your blood, go and take it

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

we're always running scared but holding knives

"Well, I haven't written a research paper on it, but..." Shrugging a little and offering him a half-smile for his trouble, the casual front is feeble at best, especially as he devastates her all over again with sincere compliments whispered through a lilting accent. "Looking beautiful is nothing. I feel beautiful with you right now," she murmurs, happily caught once more in the music of his lips.

A soft moan thrums up in her throat to feel herself pinned against Remi in all the right places, and as he parts enough to speak, Isla is left breathless and pliant in his arms. "I will," she says, smiling because it sounds like a vow but feeling too wound up to correct her wording. "I don't think I could say no even if the complex depended on it," she adds with a somewhat mischievous smile.

Isla

Remi

Welcome to the wild, no heroes and villains
Welcome to the war, we've only begun

Offering her a wry tilt of his head, wanting to say something about always having the ability to say no to him, Remi is far too beholden to the churning heat in his belly to be witty just now. Pressing his teeth together and swallowing hard as he resists the urge to drop to his knees and bury his face between her thighs right then and there, he clears his throat carefully before glancing someone suggestively over her shoulder.

"Bedroom?" He asks, though really it was much more of a poorly concealed request. The wendigo was content to fuck Ronin on couches and he'd have had him in the kitchen if the moment presented itself, but with Isla..gods but she deserved so much intentionality that almost never crossed his mind when he was with the hunter.

Higher and higher you chase it
It's deep in your blood, go and take it

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

we're always running scared but holding knives

It's only a single word but it's enough to have fire racing up and into the back of Isla's throat, and it's with a great deal of reluctance that she peels herself back and away from Remi. Not entirely, of course - snagging his hand, she guides them out of the livingroom and down a hallway that seems strangely dark after the light from outside.

Isla's bedroom sits at the end of this hallway, and is just as Remi might expect it to be; clean and clutter free, it still contains the most personal touches for the doctor. Those don't matter right now, though - what does matter is that the bed is only a few steps in through the door, and Isla all but falls onto it as it meets the back of her knees, drawing Remi along with her.

"Bedroom," she murmurs against the side of his neck, pressing slow kisses along his throat.

Isla

Remi

Welcome to the wild, no heroes and villains
Welcome to the war, we've only begun

With her face turned away from his, Remi does his best to try and catch his breath (as quietly as he could), to surreptitiously adjust the front of his pants, and to try and slow the beat of his heart. He's successful in at least one of these, and at least as the pair enter into Isla's bedroom, the wendigo's erection is hidden safely behind the waistband of his pants.

All thoughts of slowly sinking down onto the bed with Isla in his arms, of perhaps slowly and with measured hands tugging her dress over her head while kissing her from head to toe are instantly engulfed in bright and demanding flames of pleasure as the doctor tugs him down onto the bed with her. The position alone, of his body beginning to blanket hers and with her lips on his neck have rather wreckless thoughts fighting for purchase of his limbs which are still naively straining to be polite. "You have no idea how long I have thought of you like this." He whispers, bracing himself with one hand against the bed. "How long I have wanted you, like this."

Before he's lost entirely in the feeling of their hips pressed together in such a way that will make it impossible for him to do anything other than act on boyish impulse, the wendigo forces himself to push back from Isla. Descending down the length of the bed, the wendgo's fingertips press against the top of Isla's thighs, drawing higher and beneath her dress before disappearing up toward her hips. Reaching for the waistband is she wearing leggings of her underwear, he tugs softly but insistently at the material while gazing down at her with a stare that was at best utterly devoted and at worst vaguely predatory.

Higher and higher you chase it
It's deep in your blood, go and take it

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

we're always running scared but holding knives

"I think I have some idea," Isla objects, as playful as she is breathless, her words almost whispered against the shell of Remi's ear. "I know sometimes it must seem confusing because of how I have to be, in the medical wing. I put on a good show at being professional, but every time I see you, I just--" Cut off - and that's no bad thing, honestly - by Remi drawing back, Isla arches her hips against the press of his fingertips along her thighs.

Inhaling a shaky breath as he tugs away layers of clothing it's winter so yes but whatever, Isla wishes she had time to sit up and pull off the suddenly restrictive dress she's chosen. And in a darker pool of her memory, she wishes Remi, golden eyed and pale, would rip it off her entirely. Either way, the wendigo won't be prevented in his ministrations, and Isla gazes up at him with eager expectation.

Isla

Remi

Welcome to the wild, no heroes and villains
Welcome to the war, we've only begun

Though a nagging part of Remi will always think that Isla doesn't feel the same way about him despite evidence to the contrary, still her words have his heart skipping a beat as his knees shake and threaten to give out.

Standing between her thighs with her clothes now a puddle on the ground next to him, the wendigo runs his hands up the outside of her legs as he allows his own to bend in time with his descent. Kneeling at the edge of her bed and placing her thighs on his shoulders, Remi looks up the length of Isla slowly before his eyes meet hers. "You will forgive me if it seems like it has been a while." He murmurs, though for the first time so far, Remi seems entirely confident despite the truth of his warning.

Having wanted the taste of Isla on his lips for far longer than he could say, and made all the more desperate for her thanks to the sampling he'd had the day before, he's still painfully slow to get to the heart of his task. Kissing his way down the inside of one thigh with teeth that grasp lightly at her fair skin before his lips kiss away any pain he might have caused, his hands roam farther ahead to curl around her lower back and lift her hips as if she were some platter of food that he wanted to tip into his mouth out of haste, rather than merely eating off of.

If ever there was a moment it would be better to be a wendigo, it might have been now; despite needing to breathe and with muscles that could be taxed and tired by his ministrations, Remi pressed his tongue into the depths of Isla with the sort of glacial slowness that suggested the act was as much for him as it was for her. Curling his tongue backward and raising his mouth to her clit as if to bring her own wetness in addition to his own, the wendigo moans indulgently.

Higher and higher you chase it
It's deep in your blood, go and take it

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!

we're always running scared but holding knives

"Based on the attention you paid my finger yesterday, I doubt I'll have any complaints," Isla murmurs to him, her voice laced with dark mischief, though as her thighs slip over his shoulders any further remarks will have to stay locked behind her teeth. Well, no, that's a lie - it's just that she won't exactly be having a conversation with him the next time he hears her voice.

And it won't take long, either; drawing in a shivering breath and trying to arch against the kisses he leaves along her thighs, Isla's toes curl and her heels dig gently into Remi's shoulders, as if she might spur him on that way. "Gods," she sighs out, the word morphing into a moan of surprise and pleasure to feel his tongue slip against her. Head tipping back against the bed, Isla's hand strays southward of its own accord, and while she's not the type to brutishly shove his head between her thighs, the encouragement is definitely there as her fingers brush through his crop of hair.

Isla

Remi

Welcome to the wild, no heroes and villains
Welcome to the war, we've only begun

Like a man starved, Remi devours Isla seemingly as much for his own benefit as hers. The doctor might notice, perhaps not just now but later, that the wendigo goes about his ministrations not like a man who has learned the hows and wheres of pleasuring a woman from porn or the stories told by adolescent friends, but presumably by a woman (or several) who had taken the time to properly teach him what to do. That don't stop never means abruptly change everything you're doing, and that counter to the beliefs of many young men, the clitoris is not that hard to find and should never be mistaken for the urethra.

So it is with fingers that clutch at her lower back and tug her against him that Remi continues at a pace that isn't frantic (he doesn't want her to think that this is an unpleasant task he's trying to rush through), but one he hopes leaves little to be desired. Though, knowing what he does of the doctor, he's quite sure she'll tell him if he's off the mark.

Higher and higher you chase it
It's deep in your blood, go and take it

Code blatently stolen from queen of codes, Sky!