"Not gonna promise anythin'," he answers cheekily, taking his clothes with an appreciative tip of his head.
It's not a yes, but his inflection implies there's a decent chance it might turn out to be one. Neither of them will know for sure until the time comes.
Sweeney rolls his eyes good-naturedly. He takes his time to rise and slip them on, giving an extra bounce to get them over his hips so he can get everything tucked away.
He slides the braces up over his shoulders, but doesn't bother with the buttons before he crosses to her. His voice is low and warm.
"It's not so bad is it?" His eyes give a brief dart down him and back up, implying his clothes. "I can still fuck ya plenty well in 'em."
His tongue slides over his teeth, and he takes her hand. Sweeney presses it flat against him, to cup him where his buttons should be fastened. He lowers his head so he can speak against it.
"Course." Sweeney leans back enough for her to see his genuine smile. A moment later, one brow arches mischievously and both hands lift to press against the door on either side of her, penning her between them.
"Don't s'ppose ya'd be willing ta get those buttoned up fer me." There's a pause and a dramatic eye roll before his gaze returns to hers. "Don't wanna be scaring the neighbors."
He prefers the unbuttoning as well, but it's exotic to have her work them in the opposite direction. It makes Sweeney twitch, his breath catching. His lashes flutter a few times, and his weight leans into the door as he chases after her hands.
Her playfulness isn't all an act all the time. But her humor is more muted than she'd like people to think. She gives him a wicked, happy little grin and nips his lower lip and giggles. "One more time, I gotta hear it just one more time-"
His grin widens when she nips at him, and his gaze darts down to her lips before returning to hers eyes. Sweeney's mouth hovers without kissing her but his breath still finds her skin as he purrs.
"Ba mhaith liom tú." He exhales with invitation. "Ba mhaith liom tú i gcónaí."
She's kissing him before she can quite stop herself. In her defense she breaks it before she decides to pull his hand off the wall and between her thighs. "You gotta walk me home or I'm going to undo those buttons."
Sweeney's caught up in the kiss, and he doesn't realize what she's doing until she's done it. The feel of her skin makes him inhale sharply, as if threatening to pull the breath from her mouth.
It takes him only a moment to understand, and the devious grin sets back in. He shifts his hand and shoves up against her. Not in her but roughly enough to urge her on her toes.
"Don't need it," her breath catches and she tilts her hips just so, trying to get his fingers where she wants them. "I just want the smell of you in my room."
"Shirt ain't 'nough then?" He inquires with a wicked arch of his brow. His hand holds fast; she can squirm as she likes, but there's no getting him inside.
"You gettin' greedy, Trouble?" Sweeney can't resist a grin.
"How would I get you over enough," a soft sound of mingled pleasure and frustration as she thinks she can almost get his finger to slip inside her. "Maybe I'd have to fuck you on the floor, on the chair, keep some of you around between us getting my bed all- Mmfuck you're driving me crazy." She loves it.
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She does, however, climb off of him and give him his clothes. Including the new shirt.
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It's not a yes, but his inflection implies there's a decent chance it might turn out to be one. Neither of them will know for sure until the time comes.
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He slides the braces up over his shoulders, but doesn't bother with the buttons before he crosses to her. His voice is low and warm.
"It's not so bad is it?" His eyes give a brief dart down him and back up, implying his clothes. "I can still fuck ya plenty well in 'em."
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"I ain't runnin'."
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"Don't s'ppose ya'd be willing ta get those buttoned up fer me." There's a pause and a dramatic eye roll before his gaze returns to hers. "Don't wanna be scaring the neighbors."
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She can't help teasing him through the fabric as she does him up one slow button at a time.
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"'ppreciate it," he murmurs. And he does.
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"This is both of us wishin' fer that."
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"Ba mhaith liom tú."
He allows himself a slow inhale to savor the scent of her.
"An' I do."
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"Ba mhaith liom tú." He exhales with invitation. "Ba mhaith liom tú i gcónaí."
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It takes him only a moment to understand, and the devious grin sets back in. He shifts his hand and shoves up against her. Not in her but roughly enough to urge her on her toes.
"Who says ya won't do it when we get there?"
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"Since when do you need comfortable?" Sweeney forces his hand up a higher, encouraging her to shift between her feet to alleviate some pressure.
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"You gettin' greedy, Trouble?" Sweeney can't resist a grin.
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"You saying you don't like me being greedy for you?"
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"Just know yer likely ta do laundry 'nough that it'd be a fulltime job keepin' my scent in yer bed."
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