Outside...

[beliefovermisery]

Lady Luck was going to be put out to pasture and this was sad. But they really didn't need a war balloon anymore and keeping it around as one was like forming a serious army and Sokka was all too happy to keep that from happening. So when he's asked to go salvage parts of Lady's console and poke around to fix what needs fixing to make something useful, he's a happy boy.

Happier when Paige is asked to go and lift the heavy stuff.

Sliding under the console with his legs sticking out, there's clanking and whirring as he works the plates off.

"He's not that bad. Harper's just... eccentric."

Read: fucking crazy but occasionally really, really wonderful.

Comments

[notahick.livejournal.com]

"I know that kinda eccentric, Sokka, and it's called crazy."

There is plenty of parts to haul and tha tmeans there is a jagged, rocky looking Paige doing the grunt work. Hauling the pieces they're going to use to repair the tears, and such, before she comes back and stops, dropping herself down in the 'captains chair' and kicks back.

"But hey, you like him. It's cool."

[notanoptimist.livejournal.com]

"Most of the people I like are crazy in some way or another," Sokka replies, and there's a hint of a smile in his tone. Luckily, he is hiding under the console.

Where he doesn't have to look at Paige's rocky behind and get called a pervert again.

"Did you just sit down? Can you hand me the crescent wrench?"

[notahick.livejournal.com]

There is a crescent wrench tossed onto his belly.

TAKE THAT CRAZY LOVER.

[notanoptimist.livejournal.com]

"Hurk!"

Owie.

The belly is rubbed and then he peers out from beneath to console to glare at her as he takes up the wrench--

Which was a really bad idea because his eyes go straight for the rock nipples and now he's scowling and RED and sliding back under.

"You're a cheater, you know that?"

[notahick.livejournal.com]

Peeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeervert.

Paige just sits back and smirks. "I know."

[notanoptimist.livejournal.com]

"Brat." Now there is a smirk in his tone as more clanking goes on and nuts and bolts are dropped into a bucket by his thigh. "In this mood, you could go bond with Katara instead of prancing around me and dropping things on me."

His foot finds hers and he pokes up her calf until his thigh hits the top of his console and he has to stop. "Poor, abused me, treated so badly by a girl everyone thinks is so sweet! But I know the truth!"

[notahick.livejournal.com]

"I'm tryin' to avoid your sister, lest I give her a little lecture about what you do and don't do with boys you've known maybe a week," Paige points out diplomatically. "So instead I'm down here gettin' a rise outta you instead."

She uses this phrasing on purpose.

So there.

But she nudges with stony little toes against his leg in return. Footsy! ...only with a rock girl.

[notanoptimist.livejournal.com]

Because she's a brat. More poking at her calf is done, even if his toes aren't quick as rocky.

The rise comment is noted. Which is why he smirks a little and braces for the hit when he plans his reply.

"Oh, come on, Paige. You and I both know she won't go that far with him in a week. I mean, it's not like she walks around naked all the time or anything..."

[notahick.livejournal.com]

There is a shripping noise. Then, a foot us caught. And then a boot pulled off. And then that foot is held in one hand, while FEATHERS tickle the soles of his foot.

That's your answer, bitch!

[notanoptimist.livejournal.com]

"AHH! NO, NO, NO, THAT'S CHEATING, NO FAIR, NO FAIR!"

You have a squirming tribesman by the foot, caught under the console, Paige. What will you do with him?

[notahick.livejournal.com]

Put her other foot to his hip, and pin him, having him at her total mercy. "Cry uncle!" she demands, triumphant.

[notanoptimist.livejournal.com]

"Cry-- what?!" Must be another cultural issue that needs explanation.

Or the distraction he needed to grab the ankle on his hip, twist and tug to get her off the chair, slide out from under the console and POUNCE to pin her arms!

[notahick.livejournal.com]

EEEK! There is a stone bum that hits the floor, but Paige from the waist up is sort of--bird like. Covered in feathers, at least, and... well not quite human. "Get off me you dork!"

[notanoptimist.livejournal.com]

And Sokka, pinning her, his hands holding hers high above her head--

Bursts out laughing.

"What did you do to yourself?!"

[notahick.livejournal.com]

"... I went for an animal husk?" she says, and wiggles her feathery self at him. The feathers were already falling out in places, too-- Sokka aws going to get a peep show if he kept up with the wrestling.

"You needed tickling, was all..."

[notanoptimist.livejournal.com]

He's too busy blowing feathers out of his face to notice emerging skin-- and maybe blowing a few feathers from her chest as well, if he's not careful. But since when is Sokka ever really aware of something potentially embarrassing for anyone?

But tickling makes him grin down at her, nails light and teasing at her wrists. And it's just the slightest evil smirk that accompanies his reply of, "You know, I remember finding your ticklish spot, too..."

The one that actually tickled, not the-- warm, rushing, made-her-scared tickle.

(are rock-thighs turning soft against his jeans? surely not.)

[notahick.livejournal.com]

In a double state, the body is faster to return; feathers already falling out, hard rocky thighs getting soft-- it's like 'bitch, I am neihter of these things' and decides to transition back to its normal self.

"Oh? I thought I didn't have any... remember?" she chanllenges back, smirking up at him.

[notanoptimist.livejournal.com]

"Oh, I remember," Sokka replies, smirking right back, moving her wrists to one hand so he can maneuver the other down near her ribs. "But I remember what made you try and squirm away, too!" Right there, high on her ribs, not quite at her breast! Tickleish!

And he's focusing on her expression, so any other body changes will be... hard to notice.

[notahick.livejournal.com]

She squirms again and blushes a little. "Tease," she replies, and then wriggles a little, her hands untucking his shirt and seeking his ribs. SHE'LL SHOW YOU!

[notanoptimist.livejournal.com]

O noez! He laughs and squirms right back, trying to twist out of her reach while holding one of her hands still above her head, his fingers still moving at her ribs, more and more feathers moving over his skin...

And somewhere along the way, even without looking down at slowly revealed skin, he finds himself kissing her.

That's okay, right?

[notahick.livejournal.com]

That's okay. You don't have to look at her slowly pinkening and human body to want to kiss her. In fact, she'd be irritated if that were the case. But she allows herself to be caught and makes a small, low noise into the kiss.

Of total approval. Aww yeah.

[notanoptimist.livejournal.com]

He is a big, big fan of any and all noises she wants to make that sound like that. He'll even encourage her to continue, making a similar, if lower, noise in the back of his throat, kissing her a little harder, fingers stilling at her ribs to simply flatten and let his palm run over her skin, so warm for being so pale, so good and soft...

And his fingers are brushing where they'd brushed just yesterday, asking for permission.

[notahick.livejournal.com]

The way she kisses just a little harder for that is approval, right? Should be. How about the foot hooking over his calf. That good?

[notanoptimist.livejournal.com]

Oh, hell yes and the noise he makes next is a little less soft, a little more rough, free hand curling over her shoulder, tugging her close.

Other hand is curling somewhere-- a little different and very carefully exploring.

[notahick.livejournal.com]

She's breathing a little hard, but that doesn't stop her from kissing him; just means that she's trying to figure out this 'breath through the nose' thing, and is only partially succeeding.

His shirt has somehow been untucked, and a hand is now sliding along his ribs, bare of feathers but still tickling in the good way, not the giggle sort of way....

And she's a wriggling mass of girl and feathers.

[notanoptimist.livejournal.com]

He's-- fully clothed boy, skin and muscle and not much more aside from his t-shirt and jeans, weapons set aside to work. And he sucks in his own breath, hitched with her fingers against his skin, twitching a little to-- adjust.

While she figures out kissing, he's trying to get the hang of touching, careful and slow, mapping in his mind what he can't see with his eyes. Up above the tickle-point, rough, calloused fingers on her skin, tracing curves and having difficulty with breathing himself.

Which is why the hard press of lips against lips abruptly turns to softer kisses against her jaw.

[notahick.livejournal.com]

She's tilting her head back, catching her breath-- it probably does NOTHING to help him keep his own in line, what with her breasts rising and falling like htat and her body trembling all the while and...

...yeah. So, she's become a veritable cornucopia of aroual, all tingling and trembly and holding on and sighing "Sokka..."

[notanoptimist.livejournal.com]

It's something powerful and deep and stirring - not the arousal, there's nothing powerful nor deep about that. It's the way she moves, consciously tilting back and automatically trembling, the way the flesh beneath his hands roll, that he knows she's here, she's not leaving and he loves to be reminded of that.

The thrill, the heat, arousal, desire-- that's not powerful or deep.

But it's sure as hell stirring. Stirring enough to make that sigh of his name so good, he trembles himself and that he's immobile from the waist down, it seems, reminds him where her legs fall, where he lies, where they are together...

A groan, a rough, needy sound against her throat before he nips, whispers, "Paige" in her ear and starts to renew the hickey he gave her earlier.

[notahick.livejournal.com]

One hand his in his hair; she likes to do that, to hold on.

Arching against him is new, though, but she may have to make a practice of it. However, it's about this time she realzes that there are clothes on HIM but none on her, and she flushes, hot and red.

"S--Sokka--!"

...that's not necessary a stop. Just a holy shit this is naked makeout!

[notanoptimist.livejournal.com]

He likes hands in his hair, too, leaning into her, sucking harder and his hand is moving, exploring, gentle touches and somewhat sharper ones, testing and careful but needy, too, he wants to know her, memorize her, everything about her--

But, oh, she'll undo him moving like that and he makes another sound that starts as a groan and ends as a squeak, tearing from her neck to hang his head, chin at her shoulder as he breathes, eyes closed tight. It's a recovery of sorts-- or at least a step back from the edge.

It's also what lets him hear her and... well...

Fortunately (unfortunately?), Sokka retains thought and action and consequence and-- the ability to hear the urgency in her tone.

Pressed against her (though up on his knees now, oh my), head hanging, lips near her ear, his hands don't still but the touches are softer now, more careful.

"......" What do you want? What can he give?

[notahick.livejournal.com]

Flush faced, she looks at him, eyes wide, pupils dark and dilated; her need is obvious. But --

Paige is rarely been a girl to allow biological urgency override good sense. She brings him down, kisses him thoroughly, and then says, "Ah... really think... Ah... need to 'change.'"

Because otherwise, things are going to get out of control away to fast. It's just too easy.

But she does look at him, face oddly serious.

"... ah do want to, Sokka."

But not if he thinks they're going to seperate. She doesn't want to hurt like that. And she doesn't want him to, either.

[notanoptimist.livejournal.com]

But they are, aren't they? Won't she leave, too? Doesn't she want to leave him, hadn't they agreed...?

Breaking from the kiss, he rests his brow against hers, trying to calm his breath and still panting softly against her lips. In any other situation, he'd get up, turn away so he wouldn't see, wouldn't embarrass her, cuddle and be done with it, but--

She wants to. But she won't. And he's perfectly aware of why, the same reason he'd told her originally maybe we shouldn't and she said take a risk and when it all comes down to it...

When it all comes down to it, he wants her to look back and have him be a good memory, even a good, vague feeling. He slides his hand down, off her chest.

...and down further, past her ribs, to rest gently at her hip.

""

[notahick.livejournal.com]

She smiles at him then; oh that dear, idiot, sweet, boy.

He wants her to feel good; he wants to be the one to do it -- and that's as much pride as love, and that's okay. But she slides her hands into his hair, a thumb brushing gently against the 'H' that marks one brow...

And she says, "Seein' you smile makes me feel good, Sokka. Hearin' ya laugh warms me. I don't-- need anything more."

[notanoptimist.livejournal.com]

He wants to be the one to do it for a lot of reasons - pride, yes, love, oh, he is getting there fast, need, oh yes, need for her to stay, to know what she means to him, to know what she does to him...

He wants to know what he means, what he does to her. And he wants to do more, ten times more.

...But she's touching his temple. And he knows exactly what he's touching, eyes closing, body relaxing. Nothing like certain scars to kill the fire, or at least dull it, and he presses back into her hands, eyes still closed, hands light but firm on her.

"" His thumb moves on her hip, over smooth skin, trembling muscles. ""

Aroused, yes, but how would she react to him actually saying that?

[notahick.livejournal.com]

"Sokka," she says, her voice like warm honey, thick and slow, "If you didn't like it, I'd worry."

She wends her arms around his shoulders, holding him there with her, still trembilng underneath. She wants to.

But she can't. Not yet.

"Will you forgive me," she asks, "If I -- ask y' to wait, a little longer?"

She wants to be sure; this is a risk she can't go into blindly. She wants to-- but there's some leaps of faith you have to work up to.

[notanoptimist.livejournal.com]

...Okay, he laughs. Breathless and nervous and releasing tension all at once and he dips to kiss her, too, just once and quick, happy. A pause and his hand leaves her hip to slide around her back with the other, hold her close as she holds him, but-- those words? The question, request? They make him pause, blink at her.

And smile, nervous and sheepish and boyish all at once.

"Uhm... Paige... I'm not-- y'know. I'm not talking about sex."

He's not blushing either, swear. Srsly.

[notahick.livejournal.com]

Lies. He's blushing! And she's blinking. And--

...uh what?

So she's nestling closer, and cuddlnig up against him ... and that's that, right, just THAT, and ...what?

"...what, then?"

You've lost her.

[notanoptimist.livejournal.com]

Oh, boy. Yes, he's blushing and he doesn't stop either, his next laughter soft and nervous and looking-- well, a lot like Paige looked when she was trying to explain a blow job.

Which is to say, he's glad to let her cuddle and get close and his hand finds her hip again, touch light, face red, and smile sheepish.

"Um... I meant, y'know... taking care of, uh... you."

Not so much him.

[notahick.livejournal.com]

But..

Oh.

Oh.

Well, yes, now she's blushing too.

"That ain't exactly fair," she says voice a little higher then it should be. "Ah mean, we -- you --"

YOU COULD BORE A HOLE THROUGH HER THIGH, SOKKA. She knows, okay?

[notanoptimist.livejournal.com]

YES, BUT INSTEAD HE'S BORING THROUGH THE FLOOR, SHUT UP.

More nervous laughter, lower where hers is higher and he nuzzles at her neck a little. "It's fair, trust me," he whispers, and it totally would be.

The fantasy fodder that would create is more than worth the floor-boring.

"I want-- to see you. It's different if you don't want me to, but don't say no just because-- I mean, I don't need to-- and I don't want to push you into anything--"

Other than boyfriend-assisted pleasure, that is.

[notahick.livejournal.com]

Oh.

There's sort of a look, wide eyed and blinking...

..adn then she goes purple from brow to breasts. Uhm. Uhm. Uhm. Uhm.

There is a looooooooooong stare. "Uhm."

Well. Uh. She'd never... honestly, thought about it... like that... and... then she says, "... not yet, honey. Not... until we can... make it... mutual, darlin'. Ah don't wanna take what Ah'm not sure Ah can give ya."

Even Stevens, or no deal.

[notanoptimist.livejournal.com]

Oh.

Equally looooooong stare that leads to another, vocal, "Uhm."

There are fingers in her hair, carefully petting, and his eyes are dark but there's less of a hole in the floor now. "You're sure? I don't-- I mean, I want to, Paige, you don't have to make anything mutual, I just do..."

[notahick.livejournal.com]

There is a pause, and then wriggling; hands have traveled again.

"...let's try, honey. Ah wanna make you happy, too."

Give her one good reason why not?

[notanoptimist.livejournal.com]

A blink, a stare, eyes opened wide because, oh, hands are wandering, but...

"--"

[notahick.livejournal.com]

"Ah'm sure."

And she shows him just how sure.