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

[if_inconvenient]

Now. Sherlock is the next thing to physically identical with Tony, and most people can tell them apart only by voice and mannerism.

But he is a clone, not a perfect replica. The details start to diverge once you get their clothes off. Sherlock is a little leaner, his muscles a little more defined under his skin.

He doesn't expect her to notice. Particularly not as busy as she is.

Also:

[toblameforit]

"Mmm."

[formoftherapy]

Kite works her way methodically from left to right. When she gets all the way across, she pauses to sink her teeth into his bicep.

[toblameforit]

His happy little wriggle is perfectly Tony, and as a side benefit, perfectly true.

(They like a lot of the same things.)

[formoftherapy]

Kite shifts back up to kiss him again, rolling her hips as she goes.

[toblameforit]

He kisses her passionately, breathlessly, happily.



...A little more precisely than usual, it must be said. Maybe he's learned something. (Try not to speculate from whom.)

[formoftherapy]

She notices the difference--you kiss a person enough and you get used to their style--but doesn't remark on it. He might have learned something. Not like they made each other any promises or anything.

(Sunnydale's a big school. It could have been anyone.)

She slides both hands into his hair to keep his head where she wants it, nails just shy of digging in.

[toblameforit]

His breath catches; he moans, and loses a little of that precision.

[formoftherapy]

She grins against his mouth and catches his lower lip between her teeth as gently as she can.

The nails, however, dig in a little harder.

[toblameforit]

The caught breath releases all in a rush. He bites back, just as gentle.

Exactly as gentle.

(Most people wouldn't even notice that.)

[formoftherapy]

(The fine precision of it is lost on her, but it still gets her attention.)

She flicks her tongue against his lower lip, winding her fingers tighter in his hair.

[toblameforit]

There's not much hair to wind in.

(Is it a little longer, a little scruffier than it should be?)

His eyelashes flutter with the gasp of his next breath.

[formoftherapy]

She makes do.

(Yes and yes; she remembers wishing last time that it would grow faster so she could tug properly. Even in Sunnydale wishes don't come through like that for you. She wonders.)

She nuzzles his cheekbone, dips her head so her mouth is next to his ear, so he can hear the way her breath catches when she grinds down against his leg.

[toblameforit]

He shudders, wrapping his arms around her, sliding a hand up the curve of her spine. The feel of her skin under his fingers makes him shudder all over again; was Tony always this sensitive to details?

[formoftherapy]

No; not that Tony doesn't appreciate the details but this--the savoring of them--is new.

She arches into his touch, presses an open-mouthed kiss to the side of his throat.

[toblameforit]

No.

(He can't break character. Can't. Won't. They have always been the same for him; he is not much given to compromise.)

With another little shiver, he tilts his head to bare his throat for her. "Fuck," he gasps, perfectly Tony. "Yeah, like that."

[formoftherapy]

Another kiss, further down but partially overlapping the first.


And another.


She takes her time.

[toblameforit]

He wiggles impatiently.

[formoftherapy]

Impatience gets him teeth.


Which is probably what he was hoping for all along.

[toblameforit]

He wiggles delightedly.

So yes.

[formoftherapy]

She adds an additional hard nip before going back to kissing.

So there.

[toblameforit]

...So there?

So where? That was hot!

[formoftherapy]

There's another hard nip when she reaches his shoulder.

She kisses over his collarbone and keeps moving down.

[toblameforit]

"God, that mouth should be illegal," he groans appreciatively.

[formoftherapy]

She laughs.

"It is, for some people."

(Like her physics teacher.)

Another nip to the ribs, and the kisses trail steadily lower.