thisavrou_log | baby, I don't need dollar bills to have fun tonight

Entry tags:

baby, I don't need dollar bills to have fun tonight

Who: Peter and J
When: Late August, time when they've passed the Luminous Sea
Where: On Moira. Secret date location
What: Peter and J have a date.
Warnings: Two teenagers being all over each other. Implied sexy times and discussion about character death. Rest warnings to be added.

To be honest, the message Peter had sent her not too long ago, telling her to get ready because he was coming to get her, had came to her as a surprise. Of course, she hadn't forgotten about the little date he promised to her to but it had already been weeks and it had started to feel like he was going to chicken out from it. After all, he had been very drunk then. But once she read the message she quickly texted Tony to look after the bar for tonight (she couldn't bring herself trust Sans to do it) and started preparing herself. She straightened her curly hair and took a a black dress along with a white fluffy coat out from her closet, sat down in front of her beauty table to prepare her face.

J's never been the type to get nervous before going for a date but this time she has to admit that she's feeling rather curious. All her previous date partners had been more or less predictable when it came to their choices. Dinners, movies, museums or some art performances around the city. But they had none of those things on Moira, so it'll be interesting to see what he has planned for them tonight -- and just how is this going to differ from all their previous hangouts and outings.

She's just finished applying the mascara and is about to add some lipstick when she hears an eager knock on her door. She quickly checks the time from her MID, smile spreading to her face, not even a minute late from the promised time. Placing the lipstick on the table she stands up and straightens her dress a bit as she takes a good look of herself. Aside from the red stripe wounds that she still had decorating her arms, she's rather satisfied with her looks. She gives a quick, confident nod at her reflection and then turns around her heels to open the door, greeting Peter with a smile.

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There's even more sighing and silent grunting as a protest to his bothering. Feeling the light touch ghosting against the skin on her nape accompanied by the teasing threats about the tickles causes her try to cling on the cover more and hunch shoulders up to her ears. Well, it's clear now that she's awake now and that there's no chance for her to get any more sleep as long he's awake. And at this point she's not getting up out of stubbornness.

But then he persuades again, voice sweet and nice with a hint of love-struck and she decides that there's really worse things wake up to. For a brief moment she smiles faintly to the pillow out of the satisfaction, not that Peter can actually see it, but then the second comment about her talking reaches her eyes which makes the smile drop and turn into more confused one. The first one she had let slide, not paying any attention to it and maybe it was the morning sleepiness but this one sounded way too off to her ears, considering her 'condition.'

She shifts on the bed again, turning to look at him under her messy curls with a questioning eyes. He has her attention now.

The first thing she'll see is the stupid smile on his face, the glee lighting him up, when he realizes she's awake. She's not wrong to think of him as love-struck, there's nothing in the moment he's thinking about other than her and how happy he is that they're finally here. That this happened. Not even what Peter's saying is registering in his mind, the words just coming out in some stream of conscious to detract from the spring of happy nerves in his stomach.

"Finally," he says with a degree of satisfaction, moving strands of hair away from her eyes. The smile starts to slip a little when Peter notices the look in her eye. For a moment he wonders if he crossed some line of sleeping over etiquette. "What's with that look, huh? I can promise you don't need any beauty sleep if you're mad about me getting you up."

When in doubt, flatter.

Well, unfortunately Peter's going to find out soon that flattery isn't going to salvage every situation with her.

Her brows are knitted into a small frown as she keeps looking at him, lips slightly curling downwards in disapproval. She's not angry with him as the comment must have slipped off from him accidentally, which isn't all that surprising since Peter's mouth tends to run just as fast as he. It's just too bad that his brains always seems to come a few too many steps behind. And yes, while it's true that his little tactless choice with words isn't enough to make her angry, especially now that she's still feeling some of the bliss from the last night, it doesn't mean that there isn't any traces of annoyance waking up in the back of her head.

She really isn't a morning person and no matter how good things were between them last night, she still doesn't want to be waken up by Peter jumping on her bed and demanding her attention like some overly eager puppy. Well, guess she can let it slide this time, as long he doesn't make a habit out of it.

Yawning widely, she rubs her eye to her palm and briefly considers of opening her MID to check the time and to write Peter something -- only ending up deciding against it. No, it's him who wanted her awake (and talking) so he gets to decide what to do next.

The frown makes him feel wrong footed and nervous. He sits up straighter, putting a few inches of space between them. He flounders for a moment, plucking at the duvet and then smoothing it out again.

"Good morning." That's a safe place to start, he thinks. He turns his voice teasing again, trying to cover his hesitation. "Rise and shine. If you wanted to spend all day in bed, I promise I'll leave you alone for that later."

Even if part of him wanted to spend all his time around her, soaking in her attention, he's not so far gone yet not to realize she was going to kick him out eventually. He starts to ramble, nerves worse that she's just staring and not even bothering to text.

"I was going to go get you breakfast, you know. Everyone likes to be served in bed, right? But I realized I couldn't get back in without you being up. Or we could go get some, together?" Or is that against the unspoken rules to keep spending time the morning after? "I mean, it'd be a shame to make you get dressed for that. Which is why I'm saying I'd go if you wanted. Or we could just sit here and you know."

He gestures between the two of them. Talk about it, is what he means to communicate. But he's not sure if that's what's going through.

She turns on the bed to lay on her back and pulls her arms out under the blanket to run her fingers over her face and through her hair, letting out another deep sigh. She doesn't need to look at him to notice his nervousness. She can really feel as the excitement drops from him and is replaced with the uncertainty and -- oh dear, he's rambling.

Moving her hand a little off from her face, she takes a peek at him. Seeing his obvious discomfort does make her feel a little bad. It's not like she wants to get rid of him, in fact she had kind of hoped to spend a long morning with him in the bed, maybe stretching into the afternoon even. And his thought about the breakfast together had been sweet and cute. Maybe she's being too harsh with him?

She crooks her finger to invite him lean in close again and then gives her lips a quick tap. Come on. Give her a morning kiss at least.

He smiles, relief crossing his face. The invitation means she can't be too upset with him, right? Or at least he doesn't think J would kiss him if she was truly angry with him.

Peter leans over, catching her wrist and first landing a peck on her fingertips. Then he goes in for a real kiss, kissing her cheek too for good measure. When he pulls back, it's with a grin. He thinks things are back on track.

"Now are you going to tell me what you want to do? Or are we going to spend all day in bed?" His grin turns cheeky, eyebrows wiggling. He doesn't expect that to be the option she takes. "Or are we taking the talking about things option?"

Her smile widens, too, as he leans over again to press kisses on her. She closes her eyes as she parts her lips and kisses him back, slowly and tenderly. Her free hand finding a place behind his neck to keep him close and even as he pulls away she slides hand along his shoulder down to his forearm.

There's a moment she looks nothing but pleased, like a cat that's found a new warm spot where to lie on. The word 'talk' still echoes badly to her ears but this time she lets it be, it's really not worth to get mad about. Tact had never been Peter's strongest suite, especially in the mornings apparently, so there was really no point in starting to fuss about his choices with words.

Lazily she moves her hands away from him and finally reaches for her MID, opening it and fumbles around the keys as she takes a little longer than usually when trying to find right letters.

what do you want to talk about?

He doesn't back up much, still hovering near by like metal drawn to a magnet. His hand finds her leg, lighting settling on her thigh from over the blankets. He's practically addicted to touching her, now that he thinks it's allowed. Peter squeezes a little once he realizes she's typing.

Everything, anything. But those answers sounded too loaded for them even now and he swallows the urge. Peter rolls his shoulder into a shrug, gaze skittering from the wall back to her. "You, maybe," he says with a smile. "Or anything you want to tell me."

He'd listen to her, read from her, all day if she'd let him.

"If I was mean enough to wake you up," he starts, chuckling, "I might as well let you pick, huh?"

J responds to his hand by moving her legs a little and bends them so that they're leaning gently against his sides, hoping that it'd encourage him to keep it up. The touch was very much welcomed, just as it has always been. While she had a good run with playing him, keeping him on the leash at the distance and teasing him for his hesitation, she still liked this side of him more.

Ok. She answers and looks up from her MID, giving him sleepy but coy smile. She wonders if it'd be worth of the effort to ask him more about the Walkman and who Alice Cooper is. It's challenging enough to have any lengthy conversations with using text only and now that she's still barely awake it just feels way too troublesome. Besides, Peter had already suggested her favorite subject to talk about: herself.

ask me anything.

He shifts as she does, moving closer to her until he's nearly curled against her legs. The hand on her thigh starts to move, making a small path down to her knee and back. His smile turned giddy, appreciating that he was allowed this.

"You'll regret that," he says after twisting to read her screen. He could read her stories all day, he thinks. Peter has a thousand things he'd like to know, from musical opinions to old friendships to family. But he won't start with anything heavy today.

"You should think about all your favorite musicians. I know our times are kind of off." Even if the missing decade between them wasn't nearly so extreme as the futures everyone else seemed to hail from. "But I'll probably still recognize them. First though, are you hungry?"

Or maybe you're the one who's going to regret, J thinks to herself as a subtle shade of excitement creeps into her smile.

The answer to his question is easy: Marilyn Monroe. True, Marilyn was mostly known to be an actress not a musician but it was been the musical numbers in the movies that J had been drawn to. Seeing her singing and dancing had been what had inspired her to reach for her goals, and eventually become the person she is today: glamorous lady. Comfort, understanding, escape, purpose. Marilyn had offered all those things to her. J had even gone as far as imitated her as much she could. Wearing same kind of makeup, styling her hair after her, mimicking the way she carried her body and used her voice... Or at least used to.

She's already answering to him but doesn't get past the first syllable when she hears his second question. Quickly deleting the message she starts typing him a new one, looking more sly than before.

go get us something good. coffee maybe. and if you're fast enough we might have time for something else too. Then she reaches to caress his cheek, pushing few hairs out of the way before nudging closer to press another kiss on his lower lip. Guess already what that 'something else' is?

Edited 2016-09-26 15:39 (UTC)

He shifts a little while she waits for her to answer, watching the obvious moment she switches gears. He parts his lips to answer as he reads the screen, mind stalling and slowing a little at the implication. But he doesn't bother when she starts to lean in, more eager to let her touch and have her way than rush into an answer. When she presses in for the kiss, he grabs her around the waist and pulls her closer. He makes the moment last that little bit longer, kissing back more intently than gentle way she'd started.

He's completely caught on, and letting his kind run wild with ideas.

"Okay," Peter agrees still close enough that he's brushing against her to say it. He pulls away, gaze dropping to her mouth and back to her eyes. "Give me five. I'll bring you back coffee if I have to make it myself."

He gets out of bed carefully, just so he doesn't jostle her too much. But that's all he does careful or slow. He dresses in a whirlwind, stopping only for a half-second on the way out to wink at her. True to his word, there's a knock on her door a little over six minutes later.

With a little reluctance she lets him retract and move out of the bed. It had felt so nice being pulled and held close that she almost wanted to tell him forget about the breakfast. She answers to his wink with a quick wave from the bed and once he's out of the door she pulls the duvet back over herself. She probably should use this chance to fix her appearance, dress up and brush her hair and so on but the bed was such a devious trap. Comfortable but devious.

But of course Peter doesn't take any longer than what he promised. Something that she should have seen coming. Really, if he was going to take so little time he could just as well leave the door ajar. Sighing out loud, she gets up from the bed and goes to open the door for him.

He's smiling as she comes to the door, edging his way past her to set his load down on the dresser. There's the usual ship mandated breakfast fare, not nearly as much in portions as he brought for the picnic. Taking from the kitchens wasn't something he could reasonably get away with all the time and he's sneaked a fair amount for himself on the way back over.

Peter whirls around as he sets down the food, presenting her with a travel cup. "I did have to do it myself so I hope it doesn't suck. I never paid too much attention to what Allison was doing when I was bugging her for coffee."

He shrugs, leans back against the corner of the dresser while he looks her up and down. He thinks about mentioning her state of undress but decides to save it until after she's had her caffeine. Instead, he starts to ramble.

"I think I saw one of your friends out there. Or maybe your not friends. I was actually going to ask about it but-" But he'd gotten distracted every time he came around J. "That woman, Aura or something, she kept saying shit on the MIDs about coming after you. She didn't, right? I figured you'd tell somebody if she had."

For once J's not feeling bothered with her lack of clothes. She's never really been a shy one but ever since the invasion and glass happened she's found keep as much skin hidden from others, not wanting anyone see the cuts and traces of scars that she still carries around her body. But at this point it's not like Peter hasn't seen everything already so there's no point in hiding. It's nice and comfortable thought.

She opens cup's lid and sniffs the coffee first before carefully tasting it. The strong smell is met with equally strong and bitter taste. Well, it's not the worst coffee she's had but definitely not good either. Grimacing playfully she looks up from the cup to meet his eyes again but the joke and tease all disappears from her lips when he brings up Aurelia, her stomach dropping.

The threat had been on a public network so it's not that surprising that someone noticed it. But that Peter? Of course, it had to be Peter. A million thoughts and fears about what all Aurelia told him are running around J's mind for second as she looks at him through the faint steam coming from the mug, forcing her expression to look more relaxed.

Then, with carefully calculated movements she brings her other hand up next to her face and makes few vague gestures. See? She's unhurt.

Physically, he's aware she must be fine. He's seen enough of her the night before, even now to tell she's intact. But it's not exactly what he meant.

"Yeah, I mean. You look fine," he says, and takes a moment to smile while looking her over. "But she hasn't kept harassing you or anything, right? She seemed pretty serious about whatever death she was talking about."

He's worried and he's all but saying it aloud. It's coloring his tone, the soft way he looks at her. Peter just wants to protect her the best he can, even if it's something she could probably handle herself.

"Which, I know she was talking shit." He scoffs, turns back to the food to start unpacking it. "There wasn't any trials or anything, I checked. So I don't know why she was getting upset with you in the first place."

There's a warm feeling of relief when it becomes clear that Aurelia hadn't told him what happened. Or at least has left out the main issue out, which, knowing Aurelia, isn't all too surprising. That woman's pride is so strong and ridiculous that J could see her rather dying again than admitting that she had been hurt.

Wearing an amused grin she gives him a quick shrug and waves the air with her hand in a manner that says: Who knows.

However, the relief is very short lived and the warmth disappears as the unpleasantness settles back into her bones. He might not know what happened but he's still close. So, damn close. Her smile stretches, the mask cracking and insincerity showing, and it feels like someone just dumped a glass of cold water on her. Oh no. She isn't liking this new tone in the room a one bit.

But if there's a one thing she's good at it's distracting others and taking the control of the situation. She rolls her shoulder back and tilts her head slightly to the side as she walks to him, stretching her arms out to wrap them around his waist from the behind. Resting her head against his back she places the mug on the dresser and then opens MID again to write him while pressing a light kiss on the skin on the back of his neck:

its aurelia. who cares about what that lunatic thinks. and youll protect me right?

Edited 2016-10-10 11:53 (UTC)

If there's one thing J's good at it's getting under Peter's skin, making him forget what he should be doing in favor of letting his thought turn solely to her and what she wants. Normally, that little kiss would be enough to make Peter drop the conversation entirely.

But she added in the extra piece by continuing to type on it.

"Of course I would. Always." He reaches back to catch her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He failed once, back with Rinzler, but he never again. Not as long as he had something to say about it. "I don't see why I'll need to, if she hasn't done anything yet. If she's just lying. If she's just all talk. I mean, I guess I could go yell at her, if you wanted."

He pauses, sighs. "I wish she would shut up about it though. Who knows how many people she said that to? I'm more worried someone else might try something, believing some lunatic raving about you being a murderer."

She had hoped that the bone she threw to him in her last remark would have been enough to steer the conversation towards them instead of focusing more on Aurelia. She wished that it would have been enough to catch his sense of humor or cheekiness and make him joke about being a knight in shining armor for her or something like that. Something more lighthearted than his ramble about Aurelia.

She presses her body against his back and moves her hand away from his and lets it to run across his stomach, toying with the fabric of his shirt as she places more light kisses on his neck. To be honest, the thought of running into Aurelia terrifies her. Not only just because of her threat, which J knows to take seriously but also it'd mean she'd have to actually face what she had done. Their relationship has always been a strange one, each of one their encounters surrounding around death. First with the hunting trip back on Ceta and then meeting her in Del Pascia covered in blood of her victims. The only thing that's changed is that now she's the one who's --

-- a murderer.

J stops her hand movements when he says that word out loud, feeling the weight of the truth on her shoulders. Guess she really takes after her mother more than she first thought.

does it bother you what she calls me? She eventually writes to him while still keeping her arms around him. you dont like the idea of me being a murderer?

Edited 2016-10-12 20:31 (UTC)

He's still touching her, stroking idly at her skin in a way that's meant to be comforting. The fact he can't see her, that she's behind him makes it easier for him to miss the way she's stilling or the emotions passes her face. Maybe he'd stop, realize something was wrong.

But he keeps going, earnest and concerned for all the wrong reasons.

"A little. Doesn't it you? You're the one she's spreading rumors about." He frowns, sighing heavily. He leans into her just a little. He's surprised at how calm she's being. Peter's used to flying off too easily; her attitude mystifies him.

"I don't like the idea of people lying about you. Or causing you trouble. If you haven't done anything wrong she has no reason to be starting shit for you." He half turns, trying to catch her eye. "Come on J. This has to bug you. You can't be okay with her accusing you of murder. That's a serious thing."

When Peter turns he's met with J's eyes looking right back at him. Her expression might seem calm and nonchalant at first but there's the stress and hint of agitation in her eyes. But despite the betrayal she doesn't shy away but instead keeps resting her chin against his shoulder.

It's a rather curious thing. During all of her life before Moira J couldn't care a less what others thought or said about her behind her back. But things were different here than back in her own world. Despite the rather large size of the ship the crew still lived together in a way that's almost intimate and having to fight to gain some privacy. Here it meant so much more if someone were to find out.

This time she doesn't use the text to reply to him but gives him another quick shrug of shoulders before reaching up to place a kiss on his jaw, moving up to his lips. Though while all her previous kisses had been gentle and light, this one is more aggressive and forceful. It's almost desperate attempt to divert his attention finally away from Aurelia to somewhere else.

Peter was supposed to make her feel good not like this.

Edited 2016-10-19 23:51 (UTC)

Peter usually enjoys how take charge J can be. He doesn't think they would have gotten anywhere if she hadn't always taken the reigns, always been the one pushing him to the place they were now. But her aggression had never been so sharp as this, so demanding. Never quite so out of control.

He puts a hand at her hip, pulling back with more confusion in his eyes than lust.

"J?" His voice is quiet, unsure what's wrong. Whether he's reading the situation wrong and making something out of nothing. It just feels off, in a way that's hard to pinpoint. But the fact she hadn't answered him is telling.

"What's that about, huh?"

She doesn't want to let him pull away from her so she presses in again once she feels him to move, fumbling and trying to reach for his lips again with her own. But the hand on her hip is firm enough to stop her and leaving her to face his confusion. Well she can't really say that reaction surprises her all that much. Honestly, she would probably react that way too. It's not the bafflement that bothers her but the fact that he doesn't play along but questions her. That's not what was supposed to happen.

Reluctantly she takes her hands off him and then she tilts her head to the side coyly. Biting inside her cheek softly as she looks down, both to focus on her MID and to avert his gaze so that he wouldn't meet the increasing uneasiness.

you dont like it? Is what she writes to him. And at first she intends to leave it there but then a thought runs through her mind. The earlier irritation and the current impatience mixed in with raising nervousness are speaking to her, making her decide to continue against the more calm and logical voice of reason that's quietly trying to keep the upper hand.

here i thought youd want me instead of aurelia. or is that monstrous excuse for a woman and her accusations really that interesting? the ships full of murderers. no one is going to care.

Edited 2016-10-22 01:12 (UTC)

There's something almost ironic about this. He's pushing her away while she's trying to be close. It's a reversal of how he's felt the past few months have went. It doesn't sit right in his stomach, feels wrong. He's glad when she stops struggling and he can let her go.

"I never said I didn't, it's just-" He stops and shrugs. Saying that she's being weird doesn't sound like the best way to phrase it. Peter looks away, fidgets with his hair while he thinks. "We were talking about something."

It's a lame excuse, not at all encapsulating what he means. There's a nervous sort of feeling crawling just under his skin that says he's on to something, even if he doesn't know what yet. Rumors like Aurelia's could be dangerous if someone took it too far. With the new rules the captain had passed, who knew what kind of trouble J could be in if someone pressed it? He doesn't want that for her and can't understand why she wants to blow it off.

Peter's face changes rapidly as he reads her response, surprise to confusion to mild annoyance. He's shakes his head, a quick whip back and forth that's almost too fast to notice. Want Aurelia? That's laughable. And to insist people wouldn't care? Foolish at best, threatening at worst. He feels like he knows as well as anyone just how much people can care about these sorts of things. How badly it can turn out.

"People care J. Especially when you think that they shouldn't because of the so called victim. I know that. You know that." The way things had went down because what he and Alice tried to do to Rinzler was well documented. Things had gotten better since then, but their distrust of Peter still lingered. Accusations could change someone's life, even if in Peter's case it had all been hard fact. "I don't want her to be making trouble for you when you're innocent. You don't deserve that. You not a murderer. I know that but who says someone listening to that crazy woman will?"

No one is going to care. She's sure of it. No one, aside from him, has paid much ear to any of Aurelia's rumor mill. Because everyone on this ship had really, really mistaken about her, thinking that she's someone she really isn't. Just like Peter who instead of asking her how things really were he just blindly believed she wouldn't be able to do anything horrible like that. There's only one person left on this damned ship who knows her and what all she's capable of. The same person who's been hiding inside the room next to hers for good while now while drowning his fucked up misery into alcohol, she's sure, and who wouldn't probably have enough interest to give a damn about any of this.

He's moving fast again, making it difficult for her to catch a sight of all the different nuances that shifts and changes in his expression. But the last one, the annoyance, surely registers and stays in her mind. That along with the implications to Rinzler and what happened between only works as the gasoline to her own moodiness, slowly waking up something ugly that's been slumbering in her for a long time.

Knitting her brows into a frown she moves away from him and walks to her makeup table where she had tossed her morning gown the last night. She takes a quick moment while completely ignoring Peter as she pulls the gown on and ties up the silky sash around her waist. After getting dressed she glances back at Peter and sits down on the table and begins to type.

you want to talk? sure, lets talk then.

Fine.Since she apparently can't bring his attention to anywhere else they might as well do this instead. See if he really wants to get riled up with her and have this 'conversation.'

what do you want me to say? theres nothing i can do about aurelias shit.

baby, I don't need dollar bills to have fun tonight

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