moritat | there is always another au

Paloma thought that may be the case, even if the undercurrent of resentment hadn't seemed to revolve around their paternalism. That jab at Jekyll about overachieving was a big hint.

Aware of just how thin the ice she's walking on is, she swallows and pivots toward the stairs to follow sedately. "You mind if I come with?"

"Suit yourself." He shrugs, jamming his hands in his pockets. But despite his tone, he waits for her to catch up. So evidently, yes, he'd like that.

She appreciates it. Speedwalking up a staircase in high heels and a semi-restrictive dress is a recipe for tragedy.

Paloma pulls up alongside him at last, but unlike the ease with which she'd adapted to hanging on his brother's arm, doing the same with Edward feels a tad too daring. She tries on a wavering half-smile between 'exercising desk jockey' ragged breaths.

"Cool. You don't have to say anything about what just happened, either."

He takes her hand himself to pull her along toward his room. "He just pisses me off. Since he's so goddamn perfect they have to make a big deal out of it if I do something permissable to high quality people to make up for it. I bet you didn't even know there was a brother until you saw me."

Wow. She hadn't needed to start coaxing him whatsoever. She's partially aware of the dangers involved with following him blindly, not in the least because of his groping habits. But she's still allowing it. Hmm.

Moving as fast as she's able in her dress, Paloma grips him with equal firmness. The difference from Henry's is in the strength, the calluses... "The exception that proves the rule. I understand. But I heard wild gossip about you way before you walked up to me." A kinder description.

He scoffs, "Oh, right, about being his burden and a shameful, wild maniac?" Not entirely untrue...

There's a sofa in his room, which he flops down on and brings Paloma with him. "Maybe I should prove them right."

Yes to everything he just said, except for that last ominous thing.

She discovers a cushy sofa with healthy springs, jiggling on landing in embarrassing ways. He's-- awful close. Paloma blinks excessively. "Pretty easy to meet expectations when they're low. You don't seem to like making things easy for anyone!" Least of all himself. Her feet friggin hurt. She debates unstrapping.

"Henry bends over backwards for everyone, why should I have to then?" But the ominous part was most important! If someone turns up murdered he can't be blamed because he wasn't told not to!

He likes that she's come with him instead of staying with Jekyll though, and hasn't just told him to come back. That's why he sits there holding her hand still.

There's an implicit standard for her in the company of Jekyll and Poole that only Paloma attunes to. Be graceful. Say the right words. Be classy, be pretty, don't be your nasty, classless self. If they enjoy each other's presence enough to make the date a repeat the feeling of pressure might fade, but she's so scared of disappointing.

So, hey, a moment away won't kill anyone. Paloma looks through her lashes at their joined hands. "You don't like going above and beyond to be contrary, huh?" She squeezes briefly to show good will.

"I do my best to be a pain, since it's what they expect of me - might as well be good at something!" He laughs, bitterly. Although it's more than playing to expectations, he's got a bit of an anger problem, for one.

And even more of an appetite. But it stays back. Instead he tries putting his head in her lap again.

He's behaving for her, and the instinct to care is strong, so Paloma lets him get comfortable. He doesn't smell like sweat and booze, which is a definite plus.

His hair is soft, too... since they're getting personal, she'll take the liberty of sifting through it with her nails. (Freshly manicured. Thank you, boss.) "My parents didn't expect anything from me. I mean, they wanted a nanny. But here we are."

He likes that, it's nice, and he's grumpy. "Yeah?" He looks up at her. "Mine wanted Harry twice over. And then he was put in charge just because he's like a minute older."

"A whole minute," she marvels, sounding impressed. "How can you argue with those qualifications?"

She tickles behind his ear in good fun. "You were had."

He scoffs, and shys away from the tickle - one eye closed and shaking it out like a dog. "Must be fucking nice, huh?"

But he sits up this time, to go in for a kiss. Has she noticed his tongue piercing yet?

He is rather adorable. Harmless, even. And that's yet another foolish mistake.

Paloma gives a surprised noise, drawing away a little reflexively. Not far enough that he can't taste the wine, or that she doesn't have time to recognize the small coolness as a metal stud. "Ummm," she exhales uncertainly. Her lips move gently, responsively. A kiss is just a kiss...

Sure it is...

Seems like he knows how to put that stud to use, too, considering the way he makes sure to rub it against her tongue. He'd be glad to show her the other ways it's useful.

The kiss goes on too long to be entirely innocent. But it's just appreciation for her coming with him and listening to him complain, really!

Rewind to last night and it was her in Jekyll's lap, seducing him haplessly and making out for a good long while.

Every time the stud slides over her, a burning knot of excitement flowers in her belly, warms her blood and convinces Paloma to appreciate his appreciation a while longer. If she's hands-free and holding onto the sofa, not Hyde, then she's not escalating. Simple arithmetic.

She hums and nips his tongue anyway.

Maybe it's a good way to get back at his brother too. They haven't fucked yet, if Hyde could do it first it would be a small victory...

It doesn't take long for him to escalate, even if she won't (although inaction is really the same as far as he's concerned) for his hands to seek out a way into her dress.

And after she'd strictly ordered him not to use her to get at his nice older brother. Despicable.

With her head a-buzz with bad ideas and curiosity, small surprise to find her guiding his scratchy hands underneath the backless bra holding up her tits in the lacy slip she had dinner in. His palms feel as wonderful on her nipples as she'd anticipated, and her breath hitches. She breaks the kiss to watch.

It's not that he's using her for it, it's just a nice side effect of getting to fuck her.

If she wants to watch, then he'll give her a good show. If she likes his piercing, and the texture of his hands, then what about letting his hands roam lower while his tongue and stud flick across her nipple?

Quite stupidly for a girl who isn't intentionally preparing to screw, Paloma has the top of her dress bunched around her hips like a belt pretty fast. He finally gets her bare tits right there in his face-- with hardly any effort, it turns out. Hyde is majorly overdressed by comparison.

She whimpers, pressing back from the stimulation into the sofa. "Oh, that's a lot..." Of attention to a stiff nub of sensitivity. She latches onto his hair to make him keep at it. How the turntables.

Well, he could at least switch sides. Even the attention out. It doesn't take him long either to be pressed against her leg, let her know he's very glad to see her.

Meanwhile his fingers seek out her panties to tug on them and work their way under.

She wonders wildly why none of her partners have ever had a tongue piercing before, if they're this fantastic to play with. He's liking it, too, if the erection poking her knee is honest. Her breasts ache wherever the dampness of saliva tracks across them.

Speaking of damp; his lewd remarks earlier did some damage. Paloma hasn't gotten a chance to clean up and the wet his fingers brush against is too... generous. She twitches above, breathing roughly. "Ha," she groans, flopping her head back. "Umm. This is," but she can't finish the warning, the refusal to go further. Her hips buck a little to ride his knuckles just once.

Because Hyde's just that great. What a swell, considerate guy. Really he just thought it looked cool like his multiple ear piercings and the tattoo on his ribs.

He'd love for her to ride more than his fingers, but one step at a time. He lets her enjoy that for a while before pulling back to open his pants, and push them out of his way.

Her insides feel like molten lava and horribly empty at the same time. He hasn't spoken a word so she tries not to, either, even if her frustration grows the longer he isn't sticking his fingers in. You'd think her irregular thrusts would convey her needs, but no! Paloma has to rub her own damn clit over his freaking hand.

She balances awkwardly on hers, wobbling atop the sofa cushion. Almost nude, her dress hiked up and rolled into a speck of nothing, shoes on and her panties not even past her thighs; her tits heaving, bathed in spit and stiff-peaked, and them having only been up here for five minutes. His cock draws her eye straight away, straining out of his underwear.

Paloma remembers she's not working with the usual clitoritis and flushes in panic.

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