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[allgotrabies]

Hey, it's Annie, you know what to do.

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[madaboutit]

For a bit there, Sweeney worries that this won't work, that it's too much focus and not enough doing; leaving all the work to her is distracting, even though it's also delicious.

The change of sensation causes his breath to catch, and he chokes on his tongue for a second. He pulls at her, clawing his fingers down her back as he bites her neck in short, tight bursts. Her ear is warmed with grunts, whimpers, and winces. His back is burning, but he's so far beyond caring.

In the end, it doesn't stop him from finding his goal and losing himself in her, his cry sharp before it melts against her skin.

[allgotrabies]

She takes a little longer, keeps riding him a minute longer before she joins him, laughing breathlessly against his neck. She licks from the dip of his collarbone to just under his ear, enjoying the taste of his skin and his sweat.

[madaboutit]

He pulls long breaths as he stills in the wake of her satisfaction. Sweeney rests his arm on her thigh as his other hand slips into her hair so he might press their foreheads together.

"Just what the doctor ordered," he murmurs with a tired grin.

[allgotrabies]

"Gotta keep you active," she is still out of breath, all but melted up against him. She can hear the Barge and all the life outside these walls. It's so different when the ship is mostly awake.

"Can I stay here with you? For a little while?"

[madaboutit]

"Sure." It's a reflexive answer; he has no need to deny her. He pulls down a cigarette and goes to dig for his lighter, only to roll his eyes at himself after looking longingly to his trousers. Sweeney blinks with a touch of focus and flips it into his hand, getting to work at lighting the cigarette.

He pulls a long drag before turning it, brow lifted in offering. All she has to do is part her lips, and he'll place it between them.

[allgotrabies]

She smiles at him and gently opens her lips. Her fingers trail along his chest and she lifts herself off him to lay beside him instead.

Still, she can't help but keep one leg draped over his; she's always laying over her people, finding comfort in it.

[madaboutit]

Sweeney, however, does not lay back, and busies himself with another cigarette. He doesn't protest her contact in the meantime.

"Feel better?" he asks around his cigarette as he flicks the lighter. Taking a drag, he snaps it shut.

[allgotrabies]

"So much." The flatlining she'd felt, and all but heard in her mind, has been nudged away. If she's still unsteady it's at least not noticeable. "You- oh shit, how's your back?"

[madaboutit]

"Mm." Honestly, he isn't sure. He's still glowing, full of endorphins.

Sweeney exhales his smoke and twists. The bandage is stained, but given what he'd gone into the Infirmary with, he has no reason they'd done any serious stitch splitting. The depth that it is would leave little question about whether it was open or not.

"A'right." That's the best assessment he's got. It still stings, but that's pretty much an all the time thing.

[allgotrabies]

"Good." And then an exaggerated sigh. "I guess I'll have to play nursemaid to you another time."

She knows a fair bit about treating wounds now, but has never had much practice with it. Partly it's because there are other, far more experienced healers around.

[madaboutit]

He gives her leg a brisk rub with his free hand, taking a slow drag with the other.

"Don't fret, Trouble. Ya still gonna have plenty'a opportunities ta fix me up." Sweeney peeks back at her.

"Might wanna put a kit next door." His expression holds tired playfulness, but the sentiment is honest.

[allgotrabies]

"Yeah but I don't want you getting hurt." As much as she enjoys teasing at the sexy nurse trope, she actually takes medicine very seriously--and even more serious is making sure her packmates don't need medical attention. "Unless it's the kind of hurt you like."

[madaboutit]

Sweeney's brow arches suggestively.

"Pretty sure it's worth tuckin' one away o'er there," he notes more encouragingly. "Just 'cause I ain't lookin' ta, dunn't mean I'm not gonna find myself needin' one." He gives her leg a good pinch.

"'specially when I'm doin' stuff I like."

[allgotrabies]

"Well. In that case," laying her head on his knee. "I'm excited to patch you up sometime. I think I'm pretty fast at it now."

She studies it daily. Between that and learning Gaelic, she's spending more time in books and listening to audio files than she ever thought she would. "You can tell me how my bedside manner is."

[madaboutit]

He peeks down at her with a slow drag. Sweeney's careful to tap his ash away from her as he exhales.

"Ya lookin' fer more time on one then? Fewer walls an' less grass?" And elevators and showers. His eyebrow arches cheekily.

[allgotrabies]

"Oh I am not picky at all. I want you here and there and," a wave with her cigarette. "Anywhere you'll have me. But...I do like going in the elevator and remembering how hard you fucked me. I was in it a couple days ago with Godric, pretty sure my face was red the whole time."

She knows Godric can hear her heart beating so she'd breathed slow, kept it as steady as she could, and figured he probably assumed she was nervous because they were going up to the Deck.

"I wish I could take you to my bed though. It's big. It's mine."

[madaboutit]

There it is again. That temptation. The one that wants to fuck her hard against the door while Godric wakes and gets ready for his night. The one that wants to leave as much of his scent on her and in her as he's able so he can walk her home with her hand crooked neatly in his elbow. That's having his cake and eating it too.

But can he make peace with Godric enough to have it? And in the moment, it clicks. Fucking aside, if they were on the same page, they could both support Annie more effectively. And he can keep that knife in his hand the whole time. So unless Godric's a liar, there's enough to work with.

Hmm.

"That yer hammock?" he asks with a lick of his lip.

[allgotrabies]

Unbeknownst to him she's thinking the same thing. Not because of Godric, but because it's as close to her den as she can get Sweeney. "Yeah. The hammock's mine, and most of the blankets."

She imagines lying there in the hammock with Sweeney, lazing about, smoking and watching some mindless procedural crime show until she tugs him away to her bedroom where he fucks her till she's crying out his name.

[madaboutit]

He assumes she means 'bed' equals 'hammock' in that case, and both brows lift.

"That ya were worried 'bout the physics of that one." Enough to dream about it, anyways. It's not like he thinks the task would be simple, doubly for the vigorous nature of their fucking.

[allgotrabies]

"Oh, no, knowing us we'd break the poor thing. Hammock's for relaxing. My bedroom's where I'd want you to tear me out of my clothes again." She motions at the empty second bed. "It's like two and a half of these together, a little bigger. And I have a hundred pillows because I like feeling-" like there are warm bodies around her, protecting her. "-uh, comfy. Silk sheets."

[madaboutit]

His lips thin for a fleeting moment when she gestures to the other bed, but it's gone as quickly as it's come.

Sweeney's in no way surprised that she is one with a lot of pillows. She doesn't like being alone. Sometimes one works with what they have. It's probably similar to the reason he sleeps on the floor. It's familiar. Safer.

He offers a small chuckle. "Didn't f'gure ya fer one that keeps dressed in yer cabin," he observes with a mischievous smirk. "Ya gonna put stuff on just fer me ta rip it up?" He doesn't hate the idea, by any means.

[allgotrabies]

She bites her lower lip. "Yeah..." Her toes flex and curl. "You tearing me out of that black skin still gets me. And I don't hate getting dolled up for you." She likes going in with perfect hair, clean makeup, and him leaving her bruised and mussed and sated.

[madaboutit]

He's smile grows wider and devious. Sweeney can't help himself, not with the thoughts she's planting. He cups her cheek and traces his thumb feather-light across her lips.

"That mean yer plannin' some lipstick fer next time ya do?" He takes a moment to press it between her lips suggestively, nudging against her teeth, requesting they part for him in promise of later indulgence.

[allgotrabies]

She ghosts her lips over him, flicks the tip of her tongue against the pad of his thumb, holding his gaze as she does. "Red or pink?"

[madaboutit]

His lashes flutter faintly at the feel of her tongue against him, an echo of a far too recent sensation elsewhere.

"Red." That one's easy.

Something occurs to Sweeney, and he makes an amendment. "'nless 'dolled up' counts fer sundresses." He always thinks it means something posh.