Not that I’ve found yet. [ A plain answer, brief yet honest, as Stephen accepts the book and then magically floats it over to another precarious pile on an overstuffed armchair on his side of the room. But then there’s a smile coiling at the corner of his mouth as he continues, ]
I hadn’t yet tried riotous amounts of sex, though, so there might be a cure for insomnia hidden in there somewhere. Which we should investigate, going forward. You know. For science.
[ Honestly, she should have expected that would be his answer. It catches her off-guard, though, and she can't stop the amused grin that tugs at her lips. Something warm blooms in her chest as she shakes her head and nestles further down in the blankets, turning on her side to face him. ]
For science, huh? I do enjoy research. [ Especially the positively exhausting kind. ]
[ Of course Stephen Strange would find ways to turn scientific vocabulary into dirty talk. But his grin is matching hers, warm and teasing and playful. They have fun with each other, is the thing, and is the thing that matters.
And the night — and morning — passes like that. Some other evening, they might sit awake poring over more of those books and untangling some particularly gnarly piece of Turkish grammar and its arcane implications together, but for now, they’re too distracted by the fresh new appeal of intimacy: hands on each other, mouths meeting, eventually falling asleep content and exhausted. When they eventually wake up in the morning with sunlight drifting through the curtains, they inevitably wind up drawn to each other to explore that territory all over again in the cold light of day, dead-sober and yet still eager.
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ourladytrees) wrote2022-06-18 12:21 am
no subject
I hadn’t yet tried riotous amounts of sex, though, so there might be a cure for insomnia hidden in there somewhere. Which we should investigate, going forward. You know. For science.
no subject
For science, huh? I do enjoy research. [ Especially the positively exhausting kind. ]
wrap ♥
[ Of course Stephen Strange would find ways to turn scientific vocabulary into dirty talk. But his grin is matching hers, warm and teasing and playful. They have fun with each other, is the thing, and is the thing that matters.
And the night — and morning — passes like that. Some other evening, they might sit awake poring over more of those books and untangling some particularly gnarly piece of Turkish grammar and its arcane implications together, but for now, they’re too distracted by the fresh new appeal of intimacy: hands on each other, mouths meeting, eventually falling asleep content and exhausted. When they eventually wake up in the morning with sunlight drifting through the curtains, they inevitably wind up drawn to each other to explore that territory all over again in the cold light of day, dead-sober and yet still eager.
And that night, there weren’t any nightmares. ]