Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same

[badassbird]

Jett finished tying the knot of the scarf around Albert's wrists, making certain the man wouldn't be able to budge them while she worked her magic.

Discovering there was some alternate universe where she and her lover were men instead of women was interesting to say the least and plenty awkward in Albert's presence. But uncertainty had turned a little more comfortable and then they were left in the house alone, Albert sitting in one of the chairs in the den and looking pretty good in his dress shirt and slacks. Good enough Jett decided she wanted to see what all of the differences were between this man and the woman she loved.

She already knew that--other than public disposition and the way they carried themselves when they thought they were alone--it wasn't all that different. For all intents and purposes, he was the person she loved, the outside package didn't matter.

Really, she was more of a lady's lady, but her Bertie was a sexy man and it wasn't like she was inexperienced. In fact, wooing men and bedding them had been part of her job in her gang, she was just doing the same thing here, with one large exception: she wanted to do this a hundred percent.

She moved to stand in front of him, admiring her handiwork with her hands on her hips. She was kind of glad she'd chosen to wear the too-short skirt Francoise had lent her along with the scoop-neck shirt she'd stolen from her alternate self (tied at her waist to shorten the tent that it was on her). It would make what she wanted to do easier.

She slunk over to her 'prisoner' and bent forward, bracing her hands on his knees.

"Comfortable?"

Comments

[copesetic]

He holds them up for what feels like an eternity until finally he sinks down to the floor, utterly spent but still careful to keep her safely against him and not set down to hard or roughly. It's an odd sort of contrast to how furiously he'd been working into her only moments before, but now he's happy to settle with his back against the wall and ignore the scarf bruises on his wrists from being bound and the weakness in his legs from holding them up in favor of holding her close and gently gliding his hands over the soft skin of her shoulders and back. He cradles her as something precious, someone worth every ounce of care and protection.

He kisses her face gently, first on the forehead, then on her cheek, then so very lightly brushing her lips with his own. "Are you alright?"

[badassbird]

The gentleness he visits upon her after such vigorous actions is a wonderful contrast and it has her responding in kind. Once he has them settled onto the floor with Jett still in his lap, she lets her hands roam, fingers tracing from those marked wrists, up Albert's arms to hi shoulders before finally settling on his neck just into his hair line. It was the perfect place for when she pulled him into a fuller kiss. It wasn't even remotely as needy or lust-filled as before, but it held a gratitude and affection she couldn't vocalize.

"Yeah, kinda sore, but in the best way possible." A smirk fell onto her lips. "You claimed I had a dirty mouth, but did you hear what you were saying to me? It was pretty impressive."

[copesetic]

He blushes at that, actually turns full on red from the back of his neck all the way across his cheeks and he has to turn his head away to maintain at least a little of his dignity.

"You started it," he mumbles sullenly, a joke but still true.

He remains that way for a moment, but with her fingers in the hair at his nape, he can't help but turn back and nuzzle her cheek, planting a soft and gentle kiss there. He keeps holding her but keeps tight reign on his hands, lest they wander to her chest again like they want to.