Returning to the ship has taken some readjusting on her part, and not just because she'd grown accustomed to existing in a weirdly domestic bubble with Din and the kid. That had been easier because she had known it was temporary, that once they returned to the ship things would be back to normal. Relatively speaking. They were still pulled from their own universes with no known way to return home, and that fact never quite stopped nagging at her.
Between that and a few other heavier topics, Rogue has found herself unable to sleep, even with the added warmth provided to their apartment. Since it's late (or early), she doesn't suspect that Cobb will be awake or bothered by her moving her insomnia to the common space, where she's taken up residence on the couch. Her knees are folded and tucked under the front of her t-shirt, her forearms resting on the shelf they create as she clasps a glass of amber liquid in both hands.
From afar, her attention seems to be off in space. Upon closer inspection, however, it's evident that she's looking at (or more accurately, through) an object on a nearby table. It's a necklace from Sarano, both stunning and simple in design, and she's too distracted by the emotional heft of it to notice any company joining her. She is, at least, wearing gloves out of habit.
Cobb has a strange sleeping cycle he's still trying to work around. Being the Marshal, even in a quiet town, included him being up early and asleep late. Being on the other planet didn't help regulate him either, so he has his insomnia moments too. He is coming out to get water (he's more aware of how parched he always is now that it's readily available) and he's startled to see her there. He never stopped being paranoid when it comes to walking into rooms, so he zeroes in on her fast.
Even in the heat of their place he's still dressed, although he's got sweatpants and a t-shirt that's so much simpler than what he's used to. He studies her and is curious, since she seems lost in her thoughts. Cobb moves extremely quietly, from those paranoid years of always being in danger, so he makes sure to clear his throat very distinctly before walking her way. "Fancy meetin' you here, darlin'." Cobb's always been a solitary person but it made sense to him to bring up her moving into the other bedroom there, having not loved being in group housing before this place got free.
His silver hair is tousled from sleep and he's wearing no socks, settling onto the couch close but not too close. He doesn't have his gloves; it isn't instinctive thinking to him yet. He glances toward the necklace she's fixed on. "That's a nice necklace. Something to remember the Sarano by?"
She appreciates him clearing his throat to announce his arrival, even though she does startle slightly because of the noise. No liquor spills and she merely swivels her head sharply, her mess of curly hair haphazardly pulled into a bun that's on the losing battle of containing the majority of her mop. Her gaze slides over his comfortable attire, noting the places where skin's bare out of habit.
He receives an apologetic smile. "Sorry if ah woke you." Though she doesn't think she was being particularly noisy or anything. The spell of the necklace broken, Rogue remembers to take a sip of her not so hydrating drink as she watches him join her on the couch with a touch of longing, a conflicted sadness in her gaze before she shifts it back to the necklace. Part of her wants to move closer, spoiled recently with apparently too much physical contact.
His question receives a rough exhale of a laugh, more of a scoff. Her feelings on the item remain complicated. "Somethin' like that. It's from the weddin'..." She trails off, avoiding his gaze by again staring into the jewelry. "The more ah look at it, the more ah see a collar. It dampens mah powers." It's left unsaid why it was a wedding gift, but she feels it's a fairly easy conclusion to draw.
Cobb's tall and thin frame is even more pronounced when he's dressed down like this, scrawny as can be although he's got lean muscular tone in his arms and legs, from a life of fighting and scrapping. But he doesn't have any bulk to him; no one does on Tatooine, outside of the rich or the people who serve the rich. "You didn't," he assures her. "Haven't figured out my sleeping schedule yet here." It's all over the place currently, and maybe he'll always be a sporadic sleeper, as long as it's something he adjusts to.
His eyebrows go straight up at that little bit of information, glancing at the necklace. He doesn't really get how that's possible, but to be fair, he doesn't know how her powers work either. The supernatural is not part of his world, he isn't a Jedi or Jedi-adjacent. He's not so sure he likes that she was wearing this on a wedding night if she's acting so uncomfortable about it now. That seems like something that should be a good memory, not a complicated one.
Cobb can tell something's troubling her so he sits closer, also keeping an eye out for the open patches of skin, so the safest bet is touching her hair. It's mostly up but there's some strands free and he just pats the top of her head as comfortingly as he can. Not that she's acting like she needs it, but maybe she is. He has very good instincts about people. "I'm a former slave, Rogue, I've got a complicated relationship with collars myself."
He's not sure if she means it the same way, but that sort of strange dread from just a simple object at least is familiar. Cobb doesn't often speak clearly about his time as a slave, for a few reasons, but everything about himself comes from that central start. Like most people. "We could toss it out the airlock, if that'd help."
It's not a bad look, even if she's used to bulkier framed men (and women if she's being honest). "Good luck," she offers empathically, "Sleep schedules are impossible to manage in space. There's no sun." And the substitutes that technology can provide don't always work, particularly on those who already have difficulty sleeping. Had she been in a flirty mood, Rogue probably would have offered to help him in his sleep efforts.
Instead, the younger woman continues searching the inanimate object for answers that can only come from herself, taking another sip of her drink. As he moves nearer to her, the hand closest to him slides from the glass and reaches over to brush against the edge of his thigh. It's not suggestive, just a subconscious effort to seek out more tactile comfort. She's already leaning into his touch to her hair, turning towards him when he speaks.
He understands, more than most would, and as much as a normal human without powers could relate. Her gaze searches his for a few moments before dropping slightly.
His suggestion, however, earns a quick, probably too sharp response, her head shaking as she finds his eyes again. A frown deepens over her features. "No. We might need to use it." It's the ugly truth. "In case ah lose control, or ah'm not mahself with mah abilities." Given how dangerous she is and how something already has caused her to lose her faculties.
But there's more to it than that. "Ah've never really had control of mah touch, not really. It's always been someone or somethin' else, an' even when it was mah choice, it always felt like cheatin'." Her voice gives away her increasing agitation as she continues. "Not to mention mutants are hunted, collared, an' caged by those who wish to control an' experiment on us."
She doesn't regret using the collar to indulge on Sarano, but it's clearly come with a heavy tax.
The lack of sun is probably what's really throwing him. Or suns, in the case of Tatooine. It's a bright place, between the sun, the heat, and the sand. "Well that explains it," Cobb says, finally putting it together thanks to her insight. Being on Sarano gave him sunlight again at least, so adjusting back to space again is a process. He drops his hand from her hair to touch her back instead, where the t-shirt is helpfully covering so it's safe. He runs his fingers up and down the fabric, continuing to try and be comforting.
Cobb listens to her, concerned with the pain he can see there and the struggle she's going through. "Darlin', look at me." He searches for those beautiful green eyes of hers. "Do you trust me? Or do you got someone here you might trust?" Honestly he hopes it's him, so he can have some kind of control over what the problem is here, but he won't have a problem if it isn't. The important part is her feeling safe. "Cause you can give it to me, and I'll stash it somewhere secret in case of that emergency situation, and you don't got to think about it again." The only reason it would be secret is if she knows where it is she can get rid of it, if something bad did happen. It seems logical that someone she trusts can handle that part.
"It's okay not to want somethin' if it comes with strings. Maybe you can touch people, but if it comes at a cost that hurts you, it ain't worth it." Cobb reaches out to take her gloved hand, lifting it to his mouth to kiss the knuckles sweetly. Sure, he'd love to be able to kiss her for real, he'd love to feel her skin on his, but he's the last person to approve of shackles coming with sex.
Rogue can't imagine how having two suns versus two would affect a planet, but it's something that she's liable to find interesting, especially coming from him. And while she doesn't add anything more to the topic of space and sleep, his touch earns a soft noise from her as she sighs, relaxing a bit further.
Her eyes find his at the request, struck by the level of concern she finds in his searching gaze. At his questions, she nods. "Ah trust you," she clarifies softly. She also trusts Din, but she doesn't want to involve him in this, not when he might take on a burden of guilt. When Cobb continues, Rogue's only more certain that she made the correct choice. No need to put the child in her hypothetical cross hairs. The hand not on the glass reaches up to trace along the scruffy jawline as she nods to his solution, the short length of time it takes her to decide that surprising even her.
Even so, she feels the weight of guilt return with their proximity, with the unspoken fact that she's no longer willing to suffer those strings to be with him, but then he takes that guilt and her breath away in one fell swoop. She's almost dizzy from it, both his words and his actions taking her by surprise even if they really shouldn't. There's no need to touch him to know that Cobb's a good man who takes care of people.
Reaching away while keeping his gaze, she sets her glass on the table before stretching her legs carefully out of her shirt tent. Unlike him, she's not wearing any pants. In a series of fluid motions, she shifts to not only face him, but swings her leg over his hip, using a bit of flight to smoothly mind the exposed skin. She probably shouldn't be tempting fate, but she half settles on his lap as though that's more modest, free hand gently resting on his chest.
"Not wantin' ain't the issue sugah," she murmurs, voice emotional (and accent thicker for it) from how he's handling all this, handling her and her mess. Her attraction to him only grows. "You're bein' real amazin' 'bout this."
Cobb'll stash it away safe and sound until it's needed. "And if you want it back all you gotta do is ask." The point of this is that the power is in her hands. The necklace doesn't have power unless it's given power. She can choose to leave it in his hands for awhile or if she wants it for her own reasons, it'll be that simple. He's a trustworthy person. His muddied past reads into everything he is, everything he's chosen to be instead of what road he could've gone down. The important part to him right now is to look after her.
He didn't expect her to have so much exposed skin but she's real experienced at this so he stays still and lets her situate herself on his lap. If he wasn't as careful as he is, that whole position would be damned suggestive, but he's an adult and able to get that under control. She isn't trying to seduce him. That's not what this is about for them. He puts an arm around her, safely since she's wearing her t-shirt. His hand keeps moving up and down her back since she seemed to like that from before. If it's soothing it's worth it.
His hand lifts to put it over her gloved one on his chest, not a usual situation for them, being so intimately close. Cobb smiles up at her, his dark eyes soft. "You're my friend. Whatever else is happenin' between us, it don't matter more than that." Sex isn't worth her discomfort and it's definitely not worth ruining this bond. He's gone a long while without it at this point and it hasn't killed him. Friendship's just as good. Still, she smells so good, she looks so good. He's not sure it'll ever be possible for him to stop wanting her. She isn't asking him to though.
"Pretty sure it's bare basic decency to support someone not wantin' to be uncomfortable when bein' intimate." Of course some people might not be as understanding, but he's of the 'screw them' then mentality.
It's as if a huge weight has been dragged from her shoulders, and it's evident that she appreciates his solution. While she's acclimated to the support of a team back home, there are some things that she still tries to manage herself. Issues with her mutation tops that short list. "Thank you." It's all she can really say. This is above and beyond what she expects from a new friend.
He might not be wearing socks or gloves, but he's wearing a pants and a shirt, so as long as he minds his hands, the risk remains minimal. The marshal's been extremely careful and respectful thus far, so Rogue trusts him to handle this shift just fine. Though, even though the intentions aren't sexual, she can't help but shiver lightly at the warmth of his hand trailing along her back now that she's in this position. It's ignored well enough, that other warmth his touch causes.
With his words, she finds herself settling more of her weight down against him, adjusting not to add friction or tease, but to find genuine comfort so she could lean in closer to him. "Whatever else?" She can't help but crack a soft smile. "Ah'd make a dragon joke, but that feels like temptin' fate."
That and she doesn't quite know how to respond to that last bit. He's right, and it sounds so obvious when he states it out loud. But she feels conflicted, wanting more than ever now to translate how she's feeling into something more physical, like a kiss. It doesn't help that her recent indulgences have reminded her exactly what she's missing.
Cobb's not naive, he's the opposite. He knows how shitty people can be firsthand. People who wouldn't offer to help out a stranger or not accept their boundaries so readily. But his personal experience with bad people makes him determined to never be like them. "I'm glad you trust me," he says genuinely. He's glad he can do this for her. It means a lot, he can tell that, and it's a way he can show that he cares for her. They have each other's backs. It means something to him too. It's been awhile since Issa left, and they weren't just lovers, they were partners, friends.
He can tell she's not trying to tease him this time, there are more direct ways to do that, but he still has to try not to focus on how good she feels against him. He wonders who got to marry her, who got the wedding night, but he's never been a jealous man and he's not going to start now. It doesn't change they have this. Cobb smiles up at her and lets her come in as close as she wants. Sure he's thinking about how much he wishes he could kiss her. That's something that'll never end. It just don't matter higher than what she wants.
"Whatever else you'd call it when two people are good friends but have chemistry and maybe thought about each other naked." Maybe he's being presumptive here, since he knows he's thought about her that way, but he shouldn't assume that she has. It could just be wishful thinking. She's made it clear she's attracted to him though.
Cobb lifts his hand to her hair and pulls it out of her messy bun if she lets her. The long hair helps give him a little more freedom to run his fingers through it, curl it around a finger, touch something of her since he doesn't have his gloves do to anything else. Besides, her hair is beautiful. Between rubbing her back and her hair, he hopes that's giving her some of the intimacy and affection she's seeking. He's enjoying it too. "You feelin' better, sweetheart?"
"You don't seem like the person to have nefarious motivations," she admits with a tired smile. That and it's his demise if he ever tries to prove her wrong. Even with a power dampener, Rogue knows she can take care of herself. But, she doesn't think she's wrong to trust Cobb, to lean into him for this comfort and allow him to take responsibility of such power over her.
The hand on his chest smooths up to his shoulder, settling so that her her fingers could curl over the collar of his shirt. And the more time she spends in his company, intimately like this or otherwise, the more she's tempted to take the risk and kiss him, but the kind of kiss she wants with the chemistry that they have? Rogue knows it'll be difficult to meter. Her other hand moves to mirror the first, fingers curling under the collar of fabric.
"Mn. Ah don't think there's a specific term for that." There's a flicker of that flirtation, stemming from their chemistry. It's like a weak signal fighting through the weight of her emotional exhaustion, but it's there. She's definitely let her thoughts wander to a less clothed version of the man beneath her, but she's keeping that to herself for the moment. "But if it helps, ah don't got any tattoos."
It's not a shampoo commercial, but when he pulls her hair free, habit has her giving her mess of curls a bit of a shake so that they can fall naturally wherever they wish. It makes a bit of a mess, several locks falling to frame her face, shrouding her from some of the apartment's light. At his question, she both nods and tugs up the collar of his shirt, just enough to cover his mouth and nose, just in case. All the while she searches his gaze for his reaction, for permission.
"I grew out of my nefariousness a long while ago. Too old for bad intentions." Now Cobb's just playing, especially since they both love to mock his age. He's far from a perfect person but he's never been a bad person. He's comfortably lived in a gray zone, leaning more on the light gray than the dark. He's dangerous in a roundabout way, he's no slouch, but he also can't imagine touching a hair on her head with bad intent. The necklace and her trust will be in good hands.
It's been so long since someone touched him at all let alone like this. Her hands don't need to be on skin to be felt, they're warm through the light fabric of his shirt. Cobb would agree with her about the kiss, much as they both want it. There's no way that would keep simple. He'd want to kiss her until they were both breathless. It's fine. That's what fantasy's for. He's sure going to indulge one of those tonight after they part ways.
"Exactly, no term I can think of." Friends that are hot for each other? They aren't friends with benefits (yet). Cobb smiles at her little flirtation and joke about the tattoo. "I don't have a tattoo, but I've got a star-shaped scar on my back." You know, in case she's curious for her own thoughts about him. "I'll show you some time." The star might even look good, if it wasn't the sign of his owner, and that his owner purposely cut into his skin to leave it there permanently. He was little at the time too. It's just one of those things he lives with. He doesn't mean to bring down the good mood they've gotten into though so he doesn't go deeper into it.
He loves how her hair tumbles. He could run his fingers through it all day and still manage not to touch every strand, that's how much of it there is. Cobb doesn't really know what she's doing with his collar but she's tugging and the shirt goes with it. It's a loose and long t-shirt, it's not hard to do that. He gets the picture once she situates it where she wants it and pauses. He nods since she can't see his smile. Whatever she wants is his theme in this relationship.
Perhaps this is another reason that they get along so well, the living in grays rather than black or white absolutes. Good people can do bad things and vice versa, and just because you've done a bad thing doesn't mean you're evil. Too many 'bad' things to count are done with the best intentions. If the saying's right, that's how the road to Hell is paved. She's done terrible things, not all with good intentions either, and people consider her a hero now, which is its own point of contention with her.
Even though he complains of always being cold, Cobb's warmth is an undeniable comfort now that she's experiencing it again. The rain put the heat of him in starker relief, but this warmth resonates deeper with her, likely tying in with the fact that her emotions lay barer now. Her walls are lowered and there's little to no deflection with humor or sass. She's just her right now, complicated and messy.
The mention of the very specific shaped scar has her curious, but given the talk of collars and slavery, she quickly makes the connection and doesn't press the origin further. "You know, people back home call lower back tattoos 'tramp stamps'." Not that she agrees with the judgment, but she grew up in the land of rednecks. There's unfortunately some foundation for the stereotype.
Even as she tugs up the fabric, Rogue can't help but lean into his touch through her hair as much as she could. It's thick and messy enough that it's always been a rather safe touch point, the skin of her scalp and sometimes face well protected by the wildness of her curls. Her own hands meanwhile cup his jaw through the shirt, waiting for the nod from him before leaning into his space.
First she bumps her nose against his, a bit of orientation before she finds his mouth with hers through the barrier. It's different, and not quite what she would want for their first kiss, but it's far better than ripping life force and memories from him. Or, wearing a collar. This way, she can express her attraction and appreciation more intimately, she can indulge to the best of her ability, a soft moaning whimper escaping her and pressing into his mouth. She moves slowly, both savoring what heat and taste of him she can glean from this kiss hack, focusing on the way he feels against her even through the fabric.
Cobb has yet to really meet someone who he would think of as 'good' in the traditional sense. Someone pure and good of heart and all that, and he's not sure there is such a person. People are complicated and there's nothing wrong with that. Tatooine has so much bad in it. The rest of the galaxy as he knows it is not much better either. It sounds like her world is complicated too. He thinks he prefers it that way. He wouldn't know what to do with perfect.
She's radiating heat too and he's not cold in the least. If anything his blood is pumping a little faster at the moment. Cobb just looks confused at that information. "A tramp like a beggar?" He doesn't the other term for one, only the homeless or vagrant. He doesn't know why a tattoo on their lower back would mean anything. One of those different world disconnects.
He's never seen hair like hers before. On Tatooine people keep it short or very simple. The prettiest people end up in gangs for the wrong reasons, and it's one of the reasons he was shocked to see someone looking like her the first time they met. Although since coming here, he's seen a whole lot of immensely attractive people and it's very strange. He's fairly sure there are not that many attractive people on his entire planet, but okay. It's nice to be able to touch her hair, curl it around his finger. His own is very soft and clean now that he gets to, you know, wash it regularly!
Cobb's not sure what to expect from this since he's never exactly kissed someone through fabric. It ends up being better than he thought. He can feel her mouth just fine, the outline and the heat of it, and he does his best to kiss her back. If this is his only way to kiss her, he's going to throw himself into it. His shirt is going to have a strange wet spot as they try to taste each other through it, but eh, that's hardly a problem. He feels like he can almost get her taste and it's good. That soft moan she makes though goes right through him in a shiver. His arm tightens around her and tugs her a little closer on his lap.
His hand in her hair keeps her head angled toward him, murmuring her name through kisses.
There's a soft chuckle at his question, the word lost in translation between their worlds, but she'll explain it later. After. They have more important things to attend to right now between the little touches and then the bigger ones she wishes she could do without barriers and without guilt.
For once, Rogue's trying real hard not to add to the teasing, to grind against him or accelerate this to more dangerous levels of physicality. Between her general emotional state and the literal danger of her skin, as much as she wants to lose herself in more carnal pleasure, it's probably not the best idea. Still, when the arm around her pulls her closer, the younger woman can't help but rock herself against him more snugly if it's even possible.
There are limitations to this, but she tries not to focus on the frustrating points, instead leaning into the blooming warmth and what she can taste of him. Her maneuvers to deepen the kiss remain cautious as there's no place for wild abandon, but she lingers in each press of her lips, eyes closed as she tries to memorize and extrapolate the feel of him through now damp fabric.
Eventually she breaks the kiss to not only catch her breath, but to keep her from crossing a line of safety and if she's being honest, a little weirdness in with that growing hunger. The hands keeping up the fabric move, releasing the barrier to aid in pumping the brakes. One slides to his forehead so that she can rest hers there safely, eyes remaining closed for the moment. She's still savoring the lingering feel of him on her lips. The other hand settles more comfortably against his jaw, thumb moving over the scruff there as she catches her breath.
"Ah didn't trust mahself to stop if we kept on," she murmurs low, her drawl the thickest he's likely heard it yet as her eyes finally flutter half-open, searching his face. She'd move back, but honestly she can still taste him in the air caught between them.
The empathy bond doesn't require skin contact to be set off, in fact it tends to be stronger with intimate connections, so at a point in their special way of kissing his own desire starts to bleed through to her. He's usually a very calm and steady presence but he's keyed into her enough to drop some of that. He's so focused on what they're doing that he almost misses her stopping, just barely managing to push through the fog of want to realize if he tried to lean forward in that moment he's actually going to kiss her. He does manage to focus though. Somehow.
She is a little too close on his lap and he's trying not to think of that, resisting the urge to move up toward her, to spur this on. Cobb's hand had almost started to wander from her back to her front, rising up her stomach, but he stops it now, dropping it to her back again. He looks up at her and she's close and beautiful and there's an undercurrent of longing to his lust. It's fine. He's got this. It's not as if he thought kissing through a shirt was going to be erotic, alright. This is new territory.
Did they have to stop? That's his question, but obviously she thinks they did, so probably, he's not thinking clearly. Cobb nods in vague understanding. "Alright, yeah, yes." He's not disappointed or anything, but it's just been awhile since he's been hit by lust like that. "I can't even imagine what skin kissin' would do to us." He's pretty positive they would be completely lost in it, and it's not that he doesn't want that sort of blind passion, but rather he's adjusting to the concept of being with someone who spins his head like this.
"Don't worry, the dragon's reined in." This is just to tease her, to let her know they're fine and he'll always find a way to joke when things get tense between them.
She keeps forgetting about that damn empathy bond, until it utterly slams into her when she least expects it, when her guard is down and she's caught up in him. It's quite rude actually, and dangerous when it quickly becomes a positive feedback loop of desire. She's surprised that she manages to break the kiss, even if it almost pains her to halt.
They're too close. He's absolutely too distracting, so she settles back on her heels enough to put more than an inch and some breath between their bare, parted lips. There's a darker need in her eyes now, thanks to him and probably the bond too, and she dampens her lips with her tongue, tasting the ghost of Cobb on her. It's not nearly enough, but it'll have to do for now. While she trusts him, it's always difficult to trust being intimate with anyone with the threat of her touch. That's a short list of people, and that's only if she includes folks from home, no offense to either Cobb or Din. It's just difficult to relax when one false move could put someone in a coma.
Still, did they have to stop? Her hand moves from his forehead to cup his jaw and then move south down his neck and to his shoulder while she arches her back and presses herself closer while she watches him, locks of her hair framing both their faces. "Ah'd leave you exhausted," she laments, voice rough as images of what she would do simmer through her, the positions and acts that were difficult or impossible to maneuver without being able to touch. Like riding his face until she could no longer move or returning that oral favor. Tasting and touching every inch of skin. There's conflict in her eyes, her own longing and lust mixing with something more apologetic.
His joke does the trick, and she finds herself huffing out a breathy laugh at it, lopsided grin softening her features. Until she takes it upon herself to rock her hips against his against her better judgment. "Is he now?" There's a bit of a pause as she halts her teasing movements. "Ah should probably move... An' put on pants." She makes no effort to do either, though.
The empathy bond has flared up with him multiple times, with other people, and Cobb's easy so it didn't bother him. If anything he seems to put other people at ease, which is his preference. He didn't know it could be like this. He didn't know an embarrassing amount of want out of him would be felt by her, which he didn't want because he doesn't want her to feel like he's pushing anything on her. He's tried to play it cool and mostly managed, but that control decided to check out tonight.
Then again, they're both doing it. They're feeding each other's lust. There's no doubting what is between them when it's this in their face. He didn't know he was so hungry for it until now. Cobb sighs and turns his head toward her hand when it touches his jaw, exposing his neck to her touch too, clearly open and inviting for it. He doesn't know if he should correct her, that he was thinking of what it would be like if they kissed with her wearing the necklace. Because it would be too pointedly implying it's what he wants, and he's already assured her it isn't. It really isn't in his mind picturing the necklace, just what it would be like to have the absence of that fear.
She could ride him right here. He knows she'd be good at it. There is no end to the ways he would want her. Cobb tries to breathe through it, but brown eyes are full of feeling. It's complicated. Want is the opposite of selfless. He licks his lips as if he can taste her too, or imagines he can. He plans on winding down and then that minx rocks her hips and Cobb mumbles Tatooine curses, unable to stop himself from lifting up toward her. It's the easiest thing in the world to rub against her and tease them both. It's not like there's a whole lot of fabric between his sweatpants and her panties.
"Well he ain't now," Cobb says with a strangled laugh. He is going to need to do some countdowns or something to get out of this mindset. He can't bring himself to say yes, she should put on pants. She should move. He doesn't want her to. "Just ... give me a few seconds." Maybe thinking about the actual dragon will help.
As much as she should be careful, this warmth they've created has replaced her earlier guilt and frustration with herself. Where there had been sadness, Rogue now felt vibrancy, even if the complications of her mutation remain. He felt good, and she has no doubt that he could make her feel better if they were careful. Could he be careful enough, though?
Doubts aside, she's more than happy to continue trailing her fingertips slowly along the line of his jaw from just under his ear and then back again so she can feather touch them along his pulse and back down towards the collar of his shirt. In the end, she simply presses her palm to rest against his chest over his heart as though it might calm her. No such luck. It does steady her when she feels said dragon firmly friction against her just right, and she shudders when he hits that spot, a soft gasp betraying her further.
And for a moment, she has the audacity to give him a scolding look for it. This is a serious moment saturated in lust and teetering self control. Except Rogue can't help but laugh openly at his very authentic response to her incredibly rude actions, even as her blood rushes through her in want at the friction he's added. It's a bit lower, her laugh. More devious than before and throaty still with that lingering desire. It's moments like this that endear her to the space cowboy and make her want to kiss him even more. Damnit.
"Just a few seconds?" Rogue teases as she leans back to allow her hand room to trail down over his chest and between them, ghosting over him to settle between her own thighs. For now, she just rests the heel of her palm against her hip and thigh, fingertips hovering and almost daring him to try and calm that dragon of his. "Ah usually require more than that."
And now it's her playing with fire and egging him on when there are too many dangers and uncertainty in a new intimate whatever they're going to call this.
To be fair, they do have clothes on in the right spots to make this safer than without them. Their chests are both covered with t-shirts, she may only have underpants on but he has sweat pants covering where their skin might have touched. So those are all fair ground spots. As expected the part of his shirt where they kissed through is a wet spot now that it's dropped down again, but it's only a reminder to him of how hot it was rather than an annoyance. As long as he's careful with his ungloved hands, the only skin they really have to worry about is how tempted they are to kiss.
That's his reasoning (barely reasoning) for why he follows up the actions that made her gasp by doing it again. She can definitely feel him starting to harden, no matter what he's saying about getting it under control. He knows now just where to lift his hips up so he can grind between her legs and tease her too. They're playing with fire but that's her fault, thanks. He did point out to her back during the rainstorm that they did have other options. What's wrong with them trying those? If they want to?
Her hand is on a path he's not certain where it's going, down his chest but it's staying right now on her thigh. "More like minutes now," he agrees, breathless. Her laugh is throaty and intoxicating. He wants to make her laugh and make her moan too. He wants to make her feel good, especially after she'd been so sad when he came out. He wants to prove to her she doesn't need the necklace with him.
"I asked the droid 'bout latex. He told me where to get things, so I did." It was a strange conversation to be sure, but Cobb's used to droids back home, even if this one has a human face. It's still a machine, so he wasn't embarrassed. It was pretty informative, all things considered. Cobb looks up at her with his eyes even darker with want, his fingers tightening in her hair but then releasing it. "I'm not sayin' we gotta use it now or ever, just tellin' you it exists." It's important to him she never feels pressured, but he's prepared, that's all he's saying. He thought ahead.
Their convenient overlap of coverage was one of the reasons she decided to climb into his lap in the first place, that and she craved the intimacy and comfort of it. She'd known then she was playing with fire, starting something they might not be able to finish exactly how they wanted, but so far, she's not regretting her decision. Not even when he rocks up against her again and a low rumble of pleasure sweeps past her parted lips, which curl into a smile even as she scolds him silently with a particular peer.
Her fingertips curl and shift just so she can lazily start rubbing herself, fingers brushing against him as she adds fuel to the flames, her own hips rolling in a painfully slow circle. All while watching his reactions and fighting the damn urge to kiss him again, her gaze dropping to his lips on more than one occasion now, her breath growing ever so slightly rougher with each passing moment. "That's still not long enough sugah," she murmurs as her unoccupied hand reaching up to run through his hair, as if that sweet gesture of the left hand could balance the devious activities of the right. It's a nice theory. Utterly wrong, but nice. Truth be told, she just likes being around him. The touching is just a perk she doesn't want to halt.
His next words perk her attention, her eyes brightening as she momentarily stills the hand between her thighs. There's heat in her gaze, but there's also a searching that softens when he clarifies further. "You did?" The sass has momentarily slipped to reveal just how moved she is by the accommodation sure, but more importantly, the complete lack of pressure or entitlement. The latex comes with no proverbial strings attached, and this endears Rogue more to him for it. "You need to show me what sorts of things you got, then."
Cobb is ignoring that playfully scolding peer because she knows damn well this is her doing. He just smirks back at her. His eyes drop down when he feels her fingers and she's touching herself and wow. He wants to do that. He licks his lips and lets his hand move over her shirt to cup her ample breast. He squeezes it and finds her nipple through the fabric, pinching what he can of it. He rocks up against her, hardening more by the second, and he really hopes she doesn't plan on halting them now because he's never wanted anyone this much. Though if he has to go into a shower and get himself off instead, he can do that. It'd just be better with her.
He nods at her question, relieved to see she doesn't think it's presumptuous. Cobb didn't exactly go tell her the moment he got them, he was waiting for an intimate moment between them to suggest it. So he'd know that she'd be interested before bringing it up. Flirting's one thing, but he's glad to know they equally wanted it here. "It was a strange conversation for sure. Luckily with a droid."
"While I'd really like to carry you there, I don't got my gloves on me, they're in there. Notin' now I should have them on at all times." Cobb would love to cup her ass and lift them off the couch and into his bedroom, it's a lot more romantic and expressive of his desire for her. But there's too much skin and he can't guarantee her shirt is long enough. Making her get off him seems cruel to his very excited dragon, but they can't do anything real good out here. "Want to touch you, if you'll let me, darlin'. Want to make you feel good." After seeing her sad, it's the only thing he can think about.
It takes two mister. That's her story and she's sticking to it, even if that damn smirk of his makes her reconsider that, tempting her always in these moments it seems. She makes a soft noise of approval when his hand finds her breath, her voice lowering when he pinches her nipple, which dutifully hardens under his ministrations. Though honestly the majority of her focus is on the feel of him hardening against her, and her hand falling loosely between them, then lightly against his stomach as she slowly rides him, matching his pace. She keeps his gaze in hers, unable to pull it free if she tried.
The mental image of him chatting with a droid about sex tools and toys brings a grin to her lips and a rough, breathy laugh through her growing desire. It's a cute mental image. He's cute and unbelievably thoughtful. There's no thought of stopping whatever it is that they're doing right now, even if they can't do everything they want. Or shouldn't, realistically. They haven't known each other too long, but she already trusts him. Besides, he knows better than to try and cross her, she thinks, and his comment about carrying her provides the perfect opportunity to make that a bit clearer.
She grins wider at that, shrugging a shoulder before rubbing herself against him one last, rougher time before the heat and weight of her all but disappears as she floats herself off of him. Keeping her torso more or less still, her legs gracefully find the floor, avoiding his feet. In the motion, her hand finds his arms and tugs him to his feet. There's something dangerously giddy about her expression.
"Ah got you," Rogue says simply before tucking forward and hoisting him seamlessly over her shoulder, minding his excited dragon in the process. Enjoy the view of her wedgie in full view with her t-shirt (that is decidedly not long enough) collecting on the curve of her lower back. She even gives his ass a pat for good measure. And even though she should walk like a normal person to his room, she chooses to float. Just because she can.
Cobb's not sure what is getting him hotter, the fact that she's taunting him by riding him this way, or the fact her green eyes are looking right into his soul while she's doing it. He groans and strains against her, having to control himself from reacting in the ways he normally would. Like kissing the sense out of them both, or spinning them on the couch and covering her body with his. He wants to rip her clothes off and see her ride him for real, but they can't do that. It'll just be one of those fantasies that won't matter as much as the reality of being with her, however that looks instead.
His body instantly regrets her moving even if they both want it, the warmth of her gone and he tries to remember to breathe. Cobb plans on getting to his feet himself, but she tugs him up and he goes along with it. If she wants to manhandle him a little he's not going to say no. Or, uh, apparently manhandle him a lot. "What are you ----" He doesn't know what that mischief in her eyes is getting at, and then he's being lifted like nothing. This is definitely not something he's ever experienced.
He almost squirms mostly out of concern for his cock but she seems to know properly where to hoist him so that's safe. Cobb just starts laughing at that point. "Hey, it ain't fair to pat a man's ass when he can't pat yours yet. Though it's a very nice view." All his blood was previously in one spot and upside down for long will change that. He doesn't know how he's suddenly being tossed around by her and flown into his room, outside of maybe she's showing off, but he's suitably impressed.
His room isn't actually sparse despite him being somewhat new to it. Cobb knows how to make a space feel lived in. He has more clothes than usual, some taken from the planet, and they're neatly folded, he's got three blasters in different locations, and a pile of books that he got from the ship and also a few he took from Sarano. Books weren't plentiful where he came from and he knows enough about reading to get by, so he's decided to indulge a rare excuse to try more out. There's a few toys or items he thought Grogu would like too.
"S'under the bed." He didn't plan on just having his sex stuff out in the open, alright? So he stored what he got from Perseus under there. His fabric gloves can be seen on the dresser, but he has latex ones too.
Part of the intense observing is unabashed attraction, but a bit of it's also her being on guard. She's faced this temptation for years, but this is all new to Cobb. She's not always perfect, but she's built up the tolerance to urge for that touch, and it's habit, muscle memory in some cases, to be always ready for her partner to lean in for a kiss or reach to touch her. Because that's their habit and their muscle memory. There's no blame, just preparedness, a slight split of attention always, especially with new partners, particularly when there's this level of molten attraction. It's dangerous. She's dangerous. And god does she want to kiss him too.
To her without that dampening necklace, he's absolutely light as a feather. Then there's the floating bit. "Ah may have strategically talked 'round that question of yours when we first met," she admits, giving him a full cheek grab just for good measure at his sass. They can talk about her other powers later, after what she hopes are multiple orgasms. "It's an amazin' view sugah."
She dares him to argue otherwise, though Rogue might tune it out a bit while she takes in his room. It feels welcoming, and while she herself has gleaned a bit of her own stash of items from Sarano, it's mostly food. There's some fresh fruits and vegetables she's planning on finishing before they go bad and homemade, nonperishable food that she's stashing away for herself, the kid, and the friends she's made that could use some nourishing. Her roommate included. His room has a warmth to it, even in space. The plain sight items get noted (blasters especially), even as she tosses him onto the bed, careful again of his erection. It's then that she puts feet back onto the ground.
"Original," She muses before dropping smoothly to her knees and giving him a suggestive look while chewing on her lower lip. It might be a little gratuitous to provide this mental image, but the sentiment is genuine. One one-thousand. Two one-thousand. And then she's on all fours, bending forward to peek under the bed. Honestly she doesn't need to be so dramatic, but the mutant can't ignore the opportunity to torment and tease him.
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timeasmymeasure
action; Danae
Date: 2021-02-21 12:47 am (UTC)Between that and a few other heavier topics, Rogue has found herself unable to sleep, even with the added warmth provided to their apartment. Since it's late (or early), she doesn't suspect that Cobb will be awake or bothered by her moving her insomnia to the common space, where she's taken up residence on the couch. Her knees are folded and tucked under the front of her t-shirt, her forearms resting on the shelf they create as she clasps a glass of amber liquid in both hands.
From afar, her attention seems to be off in space. Upon closer inspection, however, it's evident that she's looking at (or more accurately, through) an object on a nearby table. It's a necklace from Sarano, both stunning and simple in design, and she's too distracted by the emotional heft of it to notice any company joining her. She is, at least, wearing gloves out of habit.
no subject
Date: 2021-02-21 01:12 am (UTC)Even in the heat of their place he's still dressed, although he's got sweatpants and a t-shirt that's so much simpler than what he's used to. He studies her and is curious, since she seems lost in her thoughts. Cobb moves extremely quietly, from those paranoid years of always being in danger, so he makes sure to clear his throat very distinctly before walking her way. "Fancy meetin' you here, darlin'." Cobb's always been a solitary person but it made sense to him to bring up her moving into the other bedroom there, having not loved being in group housing before this place got free.
His silver hair is tousled from sleep and he's wearing no socks, settling onto the couch close but not too close. He doesn't have his gloves; it isn't instinctive thinking to him yet. He glances toward the necklace she's fixed on. "That's a nice necklace. Something to remember the Sarano by?"
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Date: 2021-02-21 01:44 am (UTC)He receives an apologetic smile. "Sorry if ah woke you." Though she doesn't think she was being particularly noisy or anything. The spell of the necklace broken, Rogue remembers to take a sip of her not so hydrating drink as she watches him join her on the couch with a touch of longing, a conflicted sadness in her gaze before she shifts it back to the necklace. Part of her wants to move closer, spoiled recently with apparently too much physical contact.
His question receives a rough exhale of a laugh, more of a scoff. Her feelings on the item remain complicated. "Somethin' like that. It's from the weddin'..." She trails off, avoiding his gaze by again staring into the jewelry. "The more ah look at it, the more ah see a collar. It dampens mah powers." It's left unsaid why it was a wedding gift, but she feels it's a fairly easy conclusion to draw.
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Date: 2021-02-21 02:37 am (UTC)His eyebrows go straight up at that little bit of information, glancing at the necklace. He doesn't really get how that's possible, but to be fair, he doesn't know how her powers work either. The supernatural is not part of his world, he isn't a Jedi or Jedi-adjacent. He's not so sure he likes that she was wearing this on a wedding night if she's acting so uncomfortable about it now. That seems like something that should be a good memory, not a complicated one.
Cobb can tell something's troubling her so he sits closer, also keeping an eye out for the open patches of skin, so the safest bet is touching her hair. It's mostly up but there's some strands free and he just pats the top of her head as comfortingly as he can. Not that she's acting like she needs it, but maybe she is. He has very good instincts about people. "I'm a former slave, Rogue, I've got a complicated relationship with collars myself."
He's not sure if she means it the same way, but that sort of strange dread from just a simple object at least is familiar. Cobb doesn't often speak clearly about his time as a slave, for a few reasons, but everything about himself comes from that central start. Like most people. "We could toss it out the airlock, if that'd help."
no subject
Date: 2021-02-21 04:02 am (UTC)Instead, the younger woman continues searching the inanimate object for answers that can only come from herself, taking another sip of her drink. As he moves nearer to her, the hand closest to him slides from the glass and reaches over to brush against the edge of his thigh. It's not suggestive, just a subconscious effort to seek out more tactile comfort. She's already leaning into his touch to her hair, turning towards him when he speaks.
He understands, more than most would, and as much as a normal human without powers could relate. Her gaze searches his for a few moments before dropping slightly.
His suggestion, however, earns a quick, probably too sharp response, her head shaking as she finds his eyes again. A frown deepens over her features. "No. We might need to use it." It's the ugly truth. "In case ah lose control, or ah'm not mahself with mah abilities." Given how dangerous she is and how something already has caused her to lose her faculties.
But there's more to it than that. "Ah've never really had control of mah touch, not really. It's always been someone or somethin' else, an' even when it was mah choice, it always felt like cheatin'." Her voice gives away her increasing agitation as she continues. "Not to mention mutants are hunted, collared, an' caged by those who wish to control an' experiment on us."
She doesn't regret using the collar to indulge on Sarano, but it's clearly come with a heavy tax.
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Date: 2021-02-21 04:25 am (UTC)Cobb listens to her, concerned with the pain he can see there and the struggle she's going through. "Darlin', look at me." He searches for those beautiful green eyes of hers. "Do you trust me? Or do you got someone here you might trust?" Honestly he hopes it's him, so he can have some kind of control over what the problem is here, but he won't have a problem if it isn't. The important part is her feeling safe. "Cause you can give it to me, and I'll stash it somewhere secret in case of that emergency situation, and you don't got to think about it again." The only reason it would be secret is if she knows where it is she can get rid of it, if something bad did happen. It seems logical that someone she trusts can handle that part.
"It's okay not to want somethin' if it comes with strings. Maybe you can touch people, but if it comes at a cost that hurts you, it ain't worth it." Cobb reaches out to take her gloved hand, lifting it to his mouth to kiss the knuckles sweetly. Sure, he'd love to be able to kiss her for real, he'd love to feel her skin on his, but he's the last person to approve of shackles coming with sex.
no subject
Date: 2021-02-21 05:17 am (UTC)Her eyes find his at the request, struck by the level of concern she finds in his searching gaze. At his questions, she nods. "Ah trust you," she clarifies softly. She also trusts Din, but she doesn't want to involve him in this, not when he might take on a burden of guilt. When Cobb continues, Rogue's only more certain that she made the correct choice. No need to put the child in her hypothetical cross hairs. The hand not on the glass reaches up to trace along the scruffy jawline as she nods to his solution, the short length of time it takes her to decide that surprising even her.
Even so, she feels the weight of guilt return with their proximity, with the unspoken fact that she's no longer willing to suffer those strings to be with him, but then he takes that guilt and her breath away in one fell swoop. She's almost dizzy from it, both his words and his actions taking her by surprise even if they really shouldn't. There's no need to touch him to know that Cobb's a good man who takes care of people.
Reaching away while keeping his gaze, she sets her glass on the table before stretching her legs carefully out of her shirt tent. Unlike him, she's not wearing any pants. In a series of fluid motions, she shifts to not only face him, but swings her leg over his hip, using a bit of flight to smoothly mind the exposed skin. She probably shouldn't be tempting fate, but she half settles on his lap as though that's more modest, free hand gently resting on his chest.
"Not wantin' ain't the issue sugah," she murmurs, voice emotional (and accent thicker for it) from how he's handling all this, handling her and her mess. Her attraction to him only grows. "You're bein' real amazin' 'bout this."
no subject
Date: 2021-02-21 05:53 am (UTC)He didn't expect her to have so much exposed skin but she's real experienced at this so he stays still and lets her situate herself on his lap. If he wasn't as careful as he is, that whole position would be damned suggestive, but he's an adult and able to get that under control. She isn't trying to seduce him. That's not what this is about for them. He puts an arm around her, safely since she's wearing her t-shirt. His hand keeps moving up and down her back since she seemed to like that from before. If it's soothing it's worth it.
His hand lifts to put it over her gloved one on his chest, not a usual situation for them, being so intimately close. Cobb smiles up at her, his dark eyes soft. "You're my friend. Whatever else is happenin' between us, it don't matter more than that." Sex isn't worth her discomfort and it's definitely not worth ruining this bond. He's gone a long while without it at this point and it hasn't killed him. Friendship's just as good. Still, she smells so good, she looks so good. He's not sure it'll ever be possible for him to stop wanting her. She isn't asking him to though.
"Pretty sure it's bare basic decency to support someone not wantin' to be uncomfortable when bein' intimate." Of course some people might not be as understanding, but he's of the 'screw them' then mentality.
no subject
Date: 2021-02-21 06:45 am (UTC)He might not be wearing socks or gloves, but he's wearing a pants and a shirt, so as long as he minds his hands, the risk remains minimal. The marshal's been extremely careful and respectful thus far, so Rogue trusts him to handle this shift just fine. Though, even though the intentions aren't sexual, she can't help but shiver lightly at the warmth of his hand trailing along her back now that she's in this position. It's ignored well enough, that other warmth his touch causes.
With his words, she finds herself settling more of her weight down against him, adjusting not to add friction or tease, but to find genuine comfort so she could lean in closer to him. "Whatever else?" She can't help but crack a soft smile. "Ah'd make a dragon joke, but that feels like temptin' fate."
That and she doesn't quite know how to respond to that last bit. He's right, and it sounds so obvious when he states it out loud. But she feels conflicted, wanting more than ever now to translate how she's feeling into something more physical, like a kiss. It doesn't help that her recent indulgences have reminded her exactly what she's missing.
no subject
Date: 2021-02-21 03:29 pm (UTC)He can tell she's not trying to tease him this time, there are more direct ways to do that, but he still has to try not to focus on how good she feels against him. He wonders who got to marry her, who got the wedding night, but he's never been a jealous man and he's not going to start now. It doesn't change they have this. Cobb smiles up at her and lets her come in as close as she wants. Sure he's thinking about how much he wishes he could kiss her. That's something that'll never end. It just don't matter higher than what she wants.
"Whatever else you'd call it when two people are good friends but have chemistry and maybe thought about each other naked." Maybe he's being presumptive here, since he knows he's thought about her that way, but he shouldn't assume that she has. It could just be wishful thinking. She's made it clear she's attracted to him though.
Cobb lifts his hand to her hair and pulls it out of her messy bun if she lets her. The long hair helps give him a little more freedom to run his fingers through it, curl it around a finger, touch something of her since he doesn't have his gloves do to anything else. Besides, her hair is beautiful. Between rubbing her back and her hair, he hopes that's giving her some of the intimacy and affection she's seeking. He's enjoying it too. "You feelin' better, sweetheart?"
no subject
Date: 2021-02-21 04:40 pm (UTC)The hand on his chest smooths up to his shoulder, settling so that her her fingers could curl over the collar of his shirt. And the more time she spends in his company, intimately like this or otherwise, the more she's tempted to take the risk and kiss him, but the kind of kiss she wants with the chemistry that they have? Rogue knows it'll be difficult to meter. Her other hand moves to mirror the first, fingers curling under the collar of fabric.
"Mn. Ah don't think there's a specific term for that." There's a flicker of that flirtation, stemming from their chemistry. It's like a weak signal fighting through the weight of her emotional exhaustion, but it's there. She's definitely let her thoughts wander to a less clothed version of the man beneath her, but she's keeping that to herself for the moment. "But if it helps, ah don't got any tattoos."
It's not a shampoo commercial, but when he pulls her hair free, habit has her giving her mess of curls a bit of a shake so that they can fall naturally wherever they wish. It makes a bit of a mess, several locks falling to frame her face, shrouding her from some of the apartment's light. At his question, she both nods and tugs up the collar of his shirt, just enough to cover his mouth and nose, just in case. All the while she searches his gaze for his reaction, for permission.
no subject
Date: 2021-02-21 05:16 pm (UTC)It's been so long since someone touched him at all let alone like this. Her hands don't need to be on skin to be felt, they're warm through the light fabric of his shirt. Cobb would agree with her about the kiss, much as they both want it. There's no way that would keep simple. He'd want to kiss her until they were both breathless. It's fine. That's what fantasy's for. He's sure going to indulge one of those tonight after they part ways.
"Exactly, no term I can think of." Friends that are hot for each other? They aren't friends with benefits (yet). Cobb smiles at her little flirtation and joke about the tattoo. "I don't have a tattoo, but I've got a star-shaped scar on my back." You know, in case she's curious for her own thoughts about him. "I'll show you some time." The star might even look good, if it wasn't the sign of his owner, and that his owner purposely cut into his skin to leave it there permanently. He was little at the time too. It's just one of those things he lives with. He doesn't mean to bring down the good mood they've gotten into though so he doesn't go deeper into it.
He loves how her hair tumbles. He could run his fingers through it all day and still manage not to touch every strand, that's how much of it there is. Cobb doesn't really know what she's doing with his collar but she's tugging and the shirt goes with it. It's a loose and long t-shirt, it's not hard to do that. He gets the picture once she situates it where she wants it and pauses. He nods since she can't see his smile. Whatever she wants is his theme in this relationship.
no subject
Date: 2021-02-21 05:56 pm (UTC)Even though he complains of always being cold, Cobb's warmth is an undeniable comfort now that she's experiencing it again. The rain put the heat of him in starker relief, but this warmth resonates deeper with her, likely tying in with the fact that her emotions lay barer now. Her walls are lowered and there's little to no deflection with humor or sass. She's just her right now, complicated and messy.
The mention of the very specific shaped scar has her curious, but given the talk of collars and slavery, she quickly makes the connection and doesn't press the origin further. "You know, people back home call lower back tattoos 'tramp stamps'." Not that she agrees with the judgment, but she grew up in the land of rednecks. There's unfortunately some foundation for the stereotype.
Even as she tugs up the fabric, Rogue can't help but lean into his touch through her hair as much as she could. It's thick and messy enough that it's always been a rather safe touch point, the skin of her scalp and sometimes face well protected by the wildness of her curls. Her own hands meanwhile cup his jaw through the shirt, waiting for the nod from him before leaning into his space.
First she bumps her nose against his, a bit of orientation before she finds his mouth with hers through the barrier. It's different, and not quite what she would want for their first kiss, but it's far better than ripping life force and memories from him. Or, wearing a collar. This way, she can express her attraction and appreciation more intimately, she can indulge to the best of her ability, a soft moaning whimper escaping her and pressing into his mouth. She moves slowly, both savoring what heat and taste of him she can glean from this kiss hack, focusing on the way he feels against her even through the fabric.
no subject
Date: 2021-02-21 09:04 pm (UTC)She's radiating heat too and he's not cold in the least. If anything his blood is pumping a little faster at the moment. Cobb just looks confused at that information. "A tramp like a beggar?" He doesn't the other term for one, only the homeless or vagrant. He doesn't know why a tattoo on their lower back would mean anything. One of those different world disconnects.
He's never seen hair like hers before. On Tatooine people keep it short or very simple. The prettiest people end up in gangs for the wrong reasons, and it's one of the reasons he was shocked to see someone looking like her the first time they met. Although since coming here, he's seen a whole lot of immensely attractive people and it's very strange. He's fairly sure there are not that many attractive people on his entire planet, but okay. It's nice to be able to touch her hair, curl it around his finger. His own is very soft and clean now that he gets to, you know, wash it regularly!
Cobb's not sure what to expect from this since he's never exactly kissed someone through fabric. It ends up being better than he thought. He can feel her mouth just fine, the outline and the heat of it, and he does his best to kiss her back. If this is his only way to kiss her, he's going to throw himself into it. His shirt is going to have a strange wet spot as they try to taste each other through it, but eh, that's hardly a problem. He feels like he can almost get her taste and it's good. That soft moan she makes though goes right through him in a shiver. His arm tightens around her and tugs her a little closer on his lap.
His hand in her hair keeps her head angled toward him, murmuring her name through kisses.
no subject
Date: 2021-02-21 09:57 pm (UTC)For once, Rogue's trying real hard not to add to the teasing, to grind against him or accelerate this to more dangerous levels of physicality. Between her general emotional state and the literal danger of her skin, as much as she wants to lose herself in more carnal pleasure, it's probably not the best idea. Still, when the arm around her pulls her closer, the younger woman can't help but rock herself against him more snugly if it's even possible.
There are limitations to this, but she tries not to focus on the frustrating points, instead leaning into the blooming warmth and what she can taste of him. Her maneuvers to deepen the kiss remain cautious as there's no place for wild abandon, but she lingers in each press of her lips, eyes closed as she tries to memorize and extrapolate the feel of him through now damp fabric.
Eventually she breaks the kiss to not only catch her breath, but to keep her from crossing a line of safety and if she's being honest, a little weirdness in with that growing hunger. The hands keeping up the fabric move, releasing the barrier to aid in pumping the brakes. One slides to his forehead so that she can rest hers there safely, eyes remaining closed for the moment. She's still savoring the lingering feel of him on her lips. The other hand settles more comfortably against his jaw, thumb moving over the scruff there as she catches her breath.
"Ah didn't trust mahself to stop if we kept on," she murmurs low, her drawl the thickest he's likely heard it yet as her eyes finally flutter half-open, searching his face. She'd move back, but honestly she can still taste him in the air caught between them.
no subject
Date: 2021-02-22 03:30 am (UTC)She is a little too close on his lap and he's trying not to think of that, resisting the urge to move up toward her, to spur this on. Cobb's hand had almost started to wander from her back to her front, rising up her stomach, but he stops it now, dropping it to her back again. He looks up at her and she's close and beautiful and there's an undercurrent of longing to his lust. It's fine. He's got this. It's not as if he thought kissing through a shirt was going to be erotic, alright. This is new territory.
Did they have to stop? That's his question, but obviously she thinks they did, so probably, he's not thinking clearly. Cobb nods in vague understanding. "Alright, yeah, yes." He's not disappointed or anything, but it's just been awhile since he's been hit by lust like that. "I can't even imagine what skin kissin' would do to us." He's pretty positive they would be completely lost in it, and it's not that he doesn't want that sort of blind passion, but rather he's adjusting to the concept of being with someone who spins his head like this.
"Don't worry, the dragon's reined in." This is just to tease her, to let her know they're fine and he'll always find a way to joke when things get tense between them.
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Date: 2021-02-22 04:41 am (UTC)They're too close. He's absolutely too distracting, so she settles back on her heels enough to put more than an inch and some breath between their bare, parted lips. There's a darker need in her eyes now, thanks to him and probably the bond too, and she dampens her lips with her tongue, tasting the ghost of Cobb on her. It's not nearly enough, but it'll have to do for now. While she trusts him, it's always difficult to trust being intimate with anyone with the threat of her touch. That's a short list of people, and that's only if she includes folks from home, no offense to either Cobb or Din. It's just difficult to relax when one false move could put someone in a coma.
Still, did they have to stop? Her hand moves from his forehead to cup his jaw and then move south down his neck and to his shoulder while she arches her back and presses herself closer while she watches him, locks of her hair framing both their faces. "Ah'd leave you exhausted," she laments, voice rough as images of what she would do simmer through her, the positions and acts that were difficult or impossible to maneuver without being able to touch. Like riding his face until she could no longer move or returning that oral favor. Tasting and touching every inch of skin. There's conflict in her eyes, her own longing and lust mixing with something more apologetic.
His joke does the trick, and she finds herself huffing out a breathy laugh at it, lopsided grin softening her features. Until she takes it upon herself to rock her hips against his against her better judgment. "Is he now?" There's a bit of a pause as she halts her teasing movements. "Ah should probably move... An' put on pants." She makes no effort to do either, though.
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Date: 2021-02-22 05:19 am (UTC)Then again, they're both doing it. They're feeding each other's lust. There's no doubting what is between them when it's this in their face. He didn't know he was so hungry for it until now. Cobb sighs and turns his head toward her hand when it touches his jaw, exposing his neck to her touch too, clearly open and inviting for it. He doesn't know if he should correct her, that he was thinking of what it would be like if they kissed with her wearing the necklace. Because it would be too pointedly implying it's what he wants, and he's already assured her it isn't. It really isn't in his mind picturing the necklace, just what it would be like to have the absence of that fear.
She could ride him right here. He knows she'd be good at it. There is no end to the ways he would want her. Cobb tries to breathe through it, but brown eyes are full of feeling. It's complicated. Want is the opposite of selfless. He licks his lips as if he can taste her too, or imagines he can. He plans on winding down and then that minx rocks her hips and Cobb mumbles Tatooine curses, unable to stop himself from lifting up toward her. It's the easiest thing in the world to rub against her and tease them both. It's not like there's a whole lot of fabric between his sweatpants and her panties.
"Well he ain't now," Cobb says with a strangled laugh. He is going to need to do some countdowns or something to get out of this mindset. He can't bring himself to say yes, she should put on pants. She should move. He doesn't want her to. "Just ... give me a few seconds." Maybe thinking about the actual dragon will help.
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Date: 2021-02-22 07:00 am (UTC)Doubts aside, she's more than happy to continue trailing her fingertips slowly along the line of his jaw from just under his ear and then back again so she can feather touch them along his pulse and back down towards the collar of his shirt. In the end, she simply presses her palm to rest against his chest over his heart as though it might calm her. No such luck. It does steady her when she feels said dragon firmly friction against her just right, and she shudders when he hits that spot, a soft gasp betraying her further.
And for a moment, she has the audacity to give him a scolding look for it. This is a serious moment saturated in lust and teetering self control. Except Rogue can't help but laugh openly at his very authentic response to her incredibly rude actions, even as her blood rushes through her in want at the friction he's added. It's a bit lower, her laugh. More devious than before and throaty still with that lingering desire. It's moments like this that endear her to the space cowboy and make her want to kiss him even more. Damnit.
"Just a few seconds?" Rogue teases as she leans back to allow her hand room to trail down over his chest and between them, ghosting over him to settle between her own thighs. For now, she just rests the heel of her palm against her hip and thigh, fingertips hovering and almost daring him to try and calm that dragon of his. "Ah usually require more than that."
And now it's her playing with fire and egging him on when there are too many dangers and uncertainty in a new intimate whatever they're going to call this.
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Date: 2021-02-22 03:45 pm (UTC)That's his reasoning (barely reasoning) for why he follows up the actions that made her gasp by doing it again. She can definitely feel him starting to harden, no matter what he's saying about getting it under control. He knows now just where to lift his hips up so he can grind between her legs and tease her too. They're playing with fire but that's her fault, thanks. He did point out to her back during the rainstorm that they did have other options. What's wrong with them trying those? If they want to?
Her hand is on a path he's not certain where it's going, down his chest but it's staying right now on her thigh. "More like minutes now," he agrees, breathless. Her laugh is throaty and intoxicating. He wants to make her laugh and make her moan too. He wants to make her feel good, especially after she'd been so sad when he came out. He wants to prove to her she doesn't need the necklace with him.
"I asked the droid 'bout latex. He told me where to get things, so I did." It was a strange conversation to be sure, but Cobb's used to droids back home, even if this one has a human face. It's still a machine, so he wasn't embarrassed. It was pretty informative, all things considered. Cobb looks up at her with his eyes even darker with want, his fingers tightening in her hair but then releasing it. "I'm not sayin' we gotta use it now or ever, just tellin' you it exists." It's important to him she never feels pressured, but he's prepared, that's all he's saying. He thought ahead.
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Date: 2021-02-24 05:32 am (UTC)Her fingertips curl and shift just so she can lazily start rubbing herself, fingers brushing against him as she adds fuel to the flames, her own hips rolling in a painfully slow circle. All while watching his reactions and fighting the damn urge to kiss him again, her gaze dropping to his lips on more than one occasion now, her breath growing ever so slightly rougher with each passing moment. "That's still not long enough sugah," she murmurs as her unoccupied hand reaching up to run through his hair, as if that sweet gesture of the left hand could balance the devious activities of the right. It's a nice theory. Utterly wrong, but nice. Truth be told, she just likes being around him. The touching is just a perk she doesn't want to halt.
His next words perk her attention, her eyes brightening as she momentarily stills the hand between her thighs. There's heat in her gaze, but there's also a searching that softens when he clarifies further. "You did?" The sass has momentarily slipped to reveal just how moved she is by the accommodation sure, but more importantly, the complete lack of pressure or entitlement. The latex comes with no proverbial strings attached, and this endears Rogue more to him for it. "You need to show me what sorts of things you got, then."
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Date: 2021-02-27 08:51 pm (UTC)He nods at her question, relieved to see she doesn't think it's presumptuous. Cobb didn't exactly go tell her the moment he got them, he was waiting for an intimate moment between them to suggest it. So he'd know that she'd be interested before bringing it up. Flirting's one thing, but he's glad to know they equally wanted it here. "It was a strange conversation for sure. Luckily with a droid."
"While I'd really like to carry you there, I don't got my gloves on me, they're in there. Notin' now I should have them on at all times." Cobb would love to cup her ass and lift them off the couch and into his bedroom, it's a lot more romantic and expressive of his desire for her. But there's too much skin and he can't guarantee her shirt is long enough. Making her get off him seems cruel to his very excited dragon, but they can't do anything real good out here. "Want to touch you, if you'll let me, darlin'. Want to make you feel good." After seeing her sad, it's the only thing he can think about.
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Date: 2021-02-27 10:41 pm (UTC)The mental image of him chatting with a droid about sex tools and toys brings a grin to her lips and a rough, breathy laugh through her growing desire. It's a cute mental image. He's cute and unbelievably thoughtful. There's no thought of stopping whatever it is that they're doing right now, even if they can't do everything they want. Or shouldn't, realistically. They haven't known each other too long, but she already trusts him. Besides, he knows better than to try and cross her, she thinks, and his comment about carrying her provides the perfect opportunity to make that a bit clearer.
She grins wider at that, shrugging a shoulder before rubbing herself against him one last, rougher time before the heat and weight of her all but disappears as she floats herself off of him. Keeping her torso more or less still, her legs gracefully find the floor, avoiding his feet. In the motion, her hand finds his arms and tugs him to his feet. There's something dangerously giddy about her expression.
"Ah got you," Rogue says simply before tucking forward and hoisting him seamlessly over her shoulder, minding his excited dragon in the process. Enjoy the view of her wedgie in full view with her t-shirt (that is decidedly not long enough) collecting on the curve of her lower back. She even gives his ass a pat for good measure. And even though she should walk like a normal person to his room, she chooses to float. Just because she can.
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Date: 2021-02-28 12:49 am (UTC)His body instantly regrets her moving even if they both want it, the warmth of her gone and he tries to remember to breathe. Cobb plans on getting to his feet himself, but she tugs him up and he goes along with it. If she wants to manhandle him a little he's not going to say no. Or, uh, apparently manhandle him a lot. "What are you ----" He doesn't know what that mischief in her eyes is getting at, and then he's being lifted like nothing. This is definitely not something he's ever experienced.
He almost squirms mostly out of concern for his cock but she seems to know properly where to hoist him so that's safe. Cobb just starts laughing at that point. "Hey, it ain't fair to pat a man's ass when he can't pat yours yet. Though it's a very nice view." All his blood was previously in one spot and upside down for long will change that. He doesn't know how he's suddenly being tossed around by her and flown into his room, outside of maybe she's showing off, but he's suitably impressed.
His room isn't actually sparse despite him being somewhat new to it. Cobb knows how to make a space feel lived in. He has more clothes than usual, some taken from the planet, and they're neatly folded, he's got three blasters in different locations, and a pile of books that he got from the ship and also a few he took from Sarano. Books weren't plentiful where he came from and he knows enough about reading to get by, so he's decided to indulge a rare excuse to try more out. There's a few toys or items he thought Grogu would like too.
"S'under the bed." He didn't plan on just having his sex stuff out in the open, alright? So he stored what he got from Perseus under there. His fabric gloves can be seen on the dresser, but he has latex ones too.
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Date: 2021-02-28 02:04 am (UTC)To her without that dampening necklace, he's absolutely light as a feather. Then there's the floating bit. "Ah may have strategically talked 'round that question of yours when we first met," she admits, giving him a full cheek grab just for good measure at his sass. They can talk about her other powers later, after what she hopes are multiple orgasms. "It's an amazin' view sugah."
She dares him to argue otherwise, though Rogue might tune it out a bit while she takes in his room. It feels welcoming, and while she herself has gleaned a bit of her own stash of items from Sarano, it's mostly food. There's some fresh fruits and vegetables she's planning on finishing before they go bad and homemade, nonperishable food that she's stashing away for herself, the kid, and the friends she's made that could use some nourishing. Her roommate included. His room has a warmth to it, even in space. The plain sight items get noted (blasters especially), even as she tosses him onto the bed, careful again of his erection. It's then that she puts feet back onto the ground.
"Original," She muses before dropping smoothly to her knees and giving him a suggestive look while chewing on her lower lip. It might be a little gratuitous to provide this mental image, but the sentiment is genuine. One one-thousand. Two one-thousand. And then she's on all fours, bending forward to peek under the bed. Honestly she doesn't need to be so dramatic, but the mutant can't ignore the opportunity to torment and tease him.
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