dial tone

[formoftherapy]

It's a Saturday, nothing special about it.

Kite, having done all of the homework she plans on doing and unable to settle on what to do next, grabs for her phone.

She calls Tony's house. (Nothing special about that, either.)

Comments

[formoftherapy]

Kite's hands are perfectly still.

(Her arms might be shaking, though.)



"Talk to me. Please."

[toblameforit]

"Fuck," he murmurs, sounding a little stunned.

"I don't... oh, man."

Tony Stark does not like to be the responsible one. Tony Stark does not like to have the conversations. Tony Stark generally lets Sherry take care of all that shit for him.

Tony Stark probably never envisioned Sherry taking care of it for him in quite this way.

[formoftherapy]

"Shhh. Yes, you do."


Her thumb strokes up and down the side of his neck.


"Talk to me, Sherry."

[if_inconvenient]

A long, drawn-out shudder runs through him.



"All right," he says softly, in his natural accent. One hand comes up to trace the line of her wrist with his fingertips. He feels intensely vulnerable on every possible level.

[formoftherapy]

She shivers.

"Are you?

Are you all right?"

[if_inconvenient]

"I never have been."

(Other things he has claimed he has never been to her include human and lucky.)

[formoftherapy]

She looks at her hands again.




"I don't think anybody is."

[if_inconvenient]

Hesitantly, he takes one of her hands in his and kisses the back of it.

[formoftherapy]

Slowly, carefully, she lifts her other hand from his throat.

She slides it around to the back of his head, pulling him up as she leans down to kiss him.

[if_inconvenient]

It is with heavy irony that he realizes his breath just caught in his throat.

He inhales deliberately and kisses her. There is not a trace of Tony about him now. The gentle slowness, the attention to detail, the slight sense of wonderment—they are all his own.

[formoftherapy]

Kite can't help the soft, surprised noise she makes.

(It's almost unsettling how different he is now.)

She slips her other hand behind his neck.

[if_inconvenient]

Sherlock brings his own hands up to cradle her jaw as his teeth graze her lower lip.

[formoftherapy]

Her breach hitches in anticipation.

Her tongue flicks out against his lips, testing.

[if_inconvenient]

He parts his lips for her without hesitation.

[formoftherapy]

The kiss is careful but not cautious.

(She has to relearn him.)

It starts out slow, but her hands are soon gripping tighter and there is a hint of teeth in the kiss.

[if_inconvenient]

Sherlock welcomes the teeth, too.

He seems almost—

apologetic.

[formoftherapy]

She doesn't want his apology.

(Apologies are too close to pity and pity is insulting.)

She doesn't bite him outright, but it's a near thing.

[if_inconvenient]

And if he bites back?

[formoftherapy]

Well, now.

She chuckles softly into his mouth.

And then it is a bite.

[if_inconvenient]

He grins into hers, and kisses with renewed vigor. Not to mention teeth.

[formoftherapy]

She slides backward off his hips and onto his thighs, shifts her hand from neck to shoulder to pull him further upright.

"You twisted little fucker," she says between kisses.

(It sounds rather fond.)

[if_inconvenient]

"I can hardly deny it."

He laughs as he follows her up.

[formoftherapy]

"Please," she says, laughing in turn.

"You'll end up getting it as a tattoo."

[if_inconvenient]

Sherlock kisses the side of her neck.



It occurs to him that the fact that he knows so much about how she and Tony have sex is several kinds of incriminating.

[formoftherapy]

"I mean," she continues, tilting her head to offer more of her neck,

"that was some impression you did. Need to work on the more subtle reactions, but getting called someone else's name during sex will do that to anybody.



You must have done...an awful lot of research."