the little prince

i've seen fire & i've seen rain.
i've seen sunny days that i thought would never end

Remi does open his mouth to answer, before clicking his teeth together with a mischievous smile as he's silenced.

Sitting upright on the bed, his legs dangling over the edge, Remi tries as nonchalantly as possible to sit on his hands, knowing precisely where they'll want to go once Isla begins. "It is, yeah." The alchemist agrees with a chuckle that's as nervous as it is relieved for the medic to have voiced the tension in the air. As she nears Remi tells himself to just be still. It helps now that her fingertips are slightly cold, helps even more the clinical way she tilts his head to the side as if this is nothing more than a simple exam, helps that there's no time to think because—

—Remi isn't even aware of the moan that starts as a growl low in his chest, or how he's let his chin rise to give the ascended more real estate to work with. One of his hands remains where he'd placed it, but unbidden the other has freed itself and is curling around the back of Isla's thigh, desperate to keep her close, greedy to pull her closer.

Isla

It would be easy if the feeling of ecstasy wasn't so perfectly echoed in Isla. It would barely be a flash of a moment - drink, take, draw back - but that simply isn't the case. And for the medic this is the first true and physical feeling to flood through her in what seems like much longer than her time back from the dead. It's a firework that begins low in her belly, roaring outwards into her fingertips and the apples of her cheeks.

She moves willingly and eagerly as Remi urges her closer, a moan thrumming up in her throat, and she's both melting and tensing against him. Her fingers flex up and into his curls, tightening there to expose his neck further still, and as his hand finds the back of her thigh she's already shifting as if to straddle his lap. She shouldn't - that's the whole point of them having decided to sit up - but no one is there to tell that to the parts of Isla still thinking logically. (Mainly because there aren't any).

sooner or later, we all have to wake
and try forgetting everything

i've seen fire & i've seen rain.
i've seen sunny days that i thought would never end

If there's pain caused by her bite or the way she tugs at his hair, it's completely swamped by the chemicals awash in the alchemist's bloodstream. It roars inside of him, unwieldy as any of his other predatory instincts, demanding his full attention, and gods he wishes he could feel his mouth on hers.

No part of him is content to simply have her near. Close is a world away from what the alchemist's body is craving; later perhaps he can consider what he was thinking when he decided to sit on his hands, for now though, there is no remaining still. As Isla comes nearer, Remi's other hand reaches for the back of her other thigh. Lifting and standing in one easy motion, Remi tries to draw her up and against him, easily supporting her weight. With a moan that might have been words, he blindly stumbles forward until he can press her against something with which to increase the pressure of her body against his. Charts and various medical implements clatter to the floor, but Remi hardly hears or notices. His mind is swaddled in pure fire, fueled by the heat in his belly and groin.

Isla

Isla doesn't even need to breathe, and it's a dangerous and intoxicating feeling, to ride this neverending wave of bliss without consideration for a break, or for propriety. Her hum of pleasure against Remi's neck is little more than a vibration in her throat, her fingers clutching at any part of him available as he reaches for her, lifts her up. She arches against him, anchoring their bodies together, even if there is little more than emotion to show for it on her side.

Her medical implements go scattering to the ground, something that has a huff of a laugh trying to hitch in her throat, but then her back is pressed to the wall, her legs wrapping against Remi's hips, and the flood of copper on her tongue and heat in her belly proves far too distracting to ignore.

Eventually - and it's much longer than could be considered safe - her teeth slip from his neck and her arms drape around his shoulders, leaving the medic rosy-cheeked and covered in blood to look hazily up at him.

sooner or later, we all have to wake
and try forgetting everything

i've seen fire & i've seen rain.
i've seen sunny days that i thought would never end

"No, don't stop—" Remi pleads, the words coming not from his conscious mind, but from the deepest depths of him; places that feel pockmarked and scorched by heat and need. The alchemist doesn't even register that he's said anything, so loud is the sensation of his hands on her and the delicious pressure that builds as she anchors herself against him, locked between his desire and the wall behind her. He wants to be inside of her, to slide his hot skin against hers and dare it to remain perfectly luke-warm. The challenge ignites and destroys any semblance of rationality, and as he grinds his hips forward, Remi is positive that in this moment, he has the power to manifest the ability to destroy their clothes and all that stands between them through sheer willpower alone.

And then, like a tide ebbing back out to the sea, Remi is suddenly cold. Passion gives way to a dark emptiness as the flood of chemicals is abruptly cut off. Blinking uncertainly, the alchemist is suddenly shockingly aware that he's no longer sitting on the bed, that Isla is in his arms, and that his fingertips are jagged with claws that intended to strip her naked. The rosiness of his blush fills in the lines on his face, making him look youthful and boyish in his embarrassment and surprise.

"I"m so sorry—" The words are shaky, the arms around the ascended now straining to be gentle instead of demanding and desperate. "—I didn't mean to—" Retreating a step or two (and nearly tripping over something in the process), Remi will gently lower Isla back to the ground.

Isla

Isla doesn't want to stop - it's only the necessity of it that grounds her, that leaves her reeling in the alchemist's arms with blood on her lips and heat on her cheeks. "It's okay," she tells him, still sounding terribly distracted even if the chemical cocktail between them is rapidly losing its grip. Her grip on him becomes similarly gentle, palms pressing to his chest rather than twining around him, but as her feet hit the ground she can hardly be called steady.

"You don't have to be sorry," she assures Remi, carefully wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, leaving a bloody streak in its wake. Whilst she's no longer coiled around the alchemist, she hasn't actually stepped back, despite the return of the awkwardness from before. "It's the first time I've felt anything like that in..." Isla shakes her head, allowing herself a somewhat wry smile.

"Are you alright?" Fingers dance up to see to the mark on his neck, trying very hard to ignore the rather pressing issue between them.

sooner or later, we all have to wake
and try forgetting everything

i've seen fire & i've seen rain.
i've seen sunny days that i thought would never end

Remi's arms remain around her, steadying her. Steadying them, to each other as much as to the receding ripples of what had just happened. He isn't quite ready to let go of it, much as he should be. "No, I should have..uhmm..." Should have done more to keep his hands to himself. Should be doing more now to distance himself from the things he's still thinking and feeling.

Looking down at her, cheeks flushed the most delicate shade of pink and her lips perfectly rouged by the colour of his blood, he can't help but want to kiss her. "..yeah." He agrees clumsily, swallowing hard. The feeling both does and doesn't bear a resemblance to the passion Remi felt being with Ronin again. It was just as all-encompassing, though this was far more confusing, especially with the chemicals fading from his system and leaving strange landmarks of their presence in their wake.

"Yes, just fine. You were gentle." Remi's cheeks darken. "Sorry that I wasn't.." He adds, gaze lowering as he tries to subtly catch his breath.

Isla

"I am not sure there is a rulebook for when this sort of thing happens," Isla murmurs; her fingers have absently started to try to smooth out the creases on his shirt, to worry at the bloodstain that marks the collar, before she reminds herself not to. "You didn't do anything wrong," she continues, though she isn't sure she can say why. Because I wanted you to springs to mind, and the medic slams the proverbial lid back on that box.

Only, it keeps wanting to open back up again, and Isla smiles over her shoulder at the mess of the equipment she'll need to clean up later. "It's okay, honestly. It was... it... yeah." It was nice, she wants to say, but of course there is very little to do about it now. Giving him an exaggeratedly friendly pat on the shoulders and shooting him a smile that tells the whole sorry story about what did and didn't just happen, Isla moves to step back.

"I got the manticore, pretty sure."

sooner or later, we all have to wake
and try forgetting everything

i've seen fire & i've seen rain.
i've seen sunny days that i thought would never end

Remi's jaw feathers as he considers, feeling both the desire to defend his behaviour but also to indulge it. Not liking the way either sounds in his mind, he makes a non-commital sound in the back of his throat and merely nods, all too aware of what her hands are (and aren't) doing.

They're still close, his arms still around her, his body providing enough heat for the pair of them. She looks over her shoulder and another apology springs to Remi's lips, but it's halted there as she moves to step back. It's crushing, the distance suddenly between them, as if the alchemist has just suddenly lost out on something important.

"Ahh, sorry about that too." The apology finally burbles out, and though there is absolutely no use (or reason) to try and hide what he does next, Remi does turn slightly away from Isla to adjust his all too obvious erection. Tucked up into the waistband of his pants is better than tenting outward, but it's still an unhappy fix. Kneeling down (gods but it's uncomfortable), Remi begins to pick up the various things he knocked over.

Isla

"I do not recall you ever apologising so much before," Isla says, trying for levity and unsure how well she's doing. There's no use in her glancing away as he adjusts himself either, but she does it anyway, absently tucking a lock of hair behind her ear before moving to help him pick everything up as well. "You will need to teach me how to use that shift, when we go to the Feverlands," she murmurs.

Gathering the rest of her tools and setting them back onto the tray Remi knocked over, Isla rises to her feet. "If I can get the hang of it... maybe I could borrow it again for LongNight." It's an uncertain thing, as she says it. Mainly because she's looking forward to it.

Perhaps a little too much.

~FIN

sooner or later, we all have to wake
and try forgetting everything