The water will do him good. He can already feel it doing everything he needs it too- washing the grime from his skin, making tension uncurl, and gives him time to think. Something about steam and tipping his head back against cold tiles aways helps him think. He does feel better, even if being in the tub makes him feel a little vulnerable. That's okay. She's here. He assumes he knows what to do with the gun left in the medical kit, considering who her dad is. He knows he could probably still do some damage even in this state, but he also knows he won't need to. This place is safe. He wasn't followed.
His eyes have closed, just for a moment, while all of that go through his head, and they open again once she seems to have make herself comfortable. Still half dressed, which probably means she isn't going to slip into the water with him, even if he asks nicely. He won't push it. He'd like to pride himself on always giving her a good time, and he already feels like that winning streak is over. Best not add insult to injury.
She's beautiful though, even perched on the edge of the bath in her underwear. Enough to make him grin at her and she turns the taps. He doesn't have to say anything in that moment, he can just enjoy the view, the perfect skin, the curves hidden but only just, the elegant limbs and gentle fingers. Fingers that have many more talents than he'd previously given her credit for.
He'd tried not to ever let her find out about what he did at the office as Evie had put it. He'd always wanted to keep their relationship simple. Sex and fun, dinner or drinks out, or both, without any strings. No one needed to unpack their baggage, no one needed to know too much.
Now in pretty much the most dramatic way he could imagine, all the cards are out on the table. And yet... this isn't bad. She didn't slam the door on his face. She'd helped him, more than he'd expected. He'd thought he'd have to sew himself up while she hovered and fretted. The fact she hasn't... well. He'd incredibly impressed by how calmly she managed all of that.
Once the water is off, she turns back to him - and only catches him look, at least a little. Her smile a little shy, in return. Never knew what to make of it when he was looking at her like that. Sure it was one thing when she was in the middle of undressing and their hands were all over each other. But sometimes...
... Well she guessed, it was nice, either way. As he stretches out in the water, and she tilts her head, dropping her eyes a little to bit her lip. Didn't have to work it out, right now. Save it for another day.
What mattered right now was that he was looking a little better already. She shifts closer when it's all turned off, reaching over to find the liquid soap that was the other side of him. Maybe because then she doesn't have to look at him when he asks that particular question.
"Yeah. My dad." She doesn't really know where to start or end that part of herself, her life, a childhood spent learning things the hard way. "He didn't always run the Hyperion Corporation. Had to get there the hard way. Meant I got used to patching up his guys, in the middle of the night a lot."
He doesn't even know he's looking at her in a particular way, if truth be told. She looks lovely, despite how tired she must be, how much energy looking after someone must be. He can't help but feel a little in awe of her at that moment. But that doesn't stop him shifting slightly in the water and picking up his drink, just so he can finish off the dregs.
"You're very good at it." He says, aware that without her he'd have done it himself, and make a complete mess of it. But they both know that and so there's no need to say it. And there's no need really to dwell on the news of who her father is, although he feels like he wants to ask her really?. That's like saying Al Capone was your grandfather.
Or something.
It's quite clear that she doesn't want to talk too much about it, and he understands that much at least. He doesn't talk about his family, and she knows Evie. But as Angel has never once mentioned her dad before now, then he'll let it rest. They're all too tired, and he knows he is barely thinking straight.
"You sure you want me around for a few days? I don't want to get underfoot."
She takes her time, as she leans into him, the soap between her fingers, and gently she sets her hands on him. They'd had more than one shower together. But usually, the touching was way more involved in this. Not this careful, meticulous, as she begins to clean the blood off his skin. Sliding suds over his shoulders, his chest. Stop him having to reach up and hurt himself more. This way she could make sure he didn't strain or tear anything. Give his muscles a break, free from having to move. Her fingers are so light, so careful, making sure not to hurt him even a little.
"Well, been doing it since I was ten. Took some courses from this Doctor that had his license suspended that Jack had on his pay. Guess it paid off." She laughs as she brushes against his neck, splaying her fingers wide.
Alright, maybe she just didn't mind touching him, no matter what the reason was. "And I don't know... " she tilted her head, teasing, giving him something other than pain to think about. "... Think I can find enough reasons to make you stay in bed, getting rest?"
She has a magic touch. Normally it sends fire though him, heats him all the way to the core and pools low in his belly. Now? It sends gentle warmth, just like the bath, easing tension in his muscles, letting them ease. He doesn't relax as a rule. Theres some nonchalance in him, cockiness, but it's not the same as being relaxed.
For the most part it's to put other people off. This is wonderful.
It's like looking for a gold nugget under the dirt, or his smile, out from under all that blood. Happy to get her fingers dirty, just to find something that brilliant and shining. Smoothing away all the chips and flecks, just to find him.
She didn't know when she started thinking of him like that, but she wasn't going to question it right now. It was all she needed as she works her fingers against his upper arm on his uninjured side.
"You're not tearing those stitches." She scrapes her teeth on the side of her lower lip, looking over him. "... So you're going to have to take it slow. Doctor's orders."
He's not gold. Iron pyrite, perhaps, in a good light. She thinks too much of him, when she's smart and beautiful and funny. She always has been, been a bright light in the murky darkness of his life. He hasn't ever voiced that, he doesn't quite know how he should, or even if doing so would spoil everything forever.
But he's certain on one thing: his life is so much better with her as an integral part of it. He doesn't deserve her, but he'll hold onto her with both hands if he can.
"Is that the doctor that lost his licence to practise medicine or your orders?"
"Mine." She leans over, hanging above him teasingly. Or what she must be at least a little bit teasing, despite the exhaustion he must be feeling - her in nothing but underwear and stockings and big gaudy earrings. That little bit of wine still on her lips. "My orders are way more rewarding, I think you'll find."
Slowly, she cups water in her right hand and lifts it, to splash it languidly over his chest, to begin to wash away the soap bubbles. Reveal him clean below it that she runs her fingers over with no pretext of just enjoying touching him before she reaches the water, and once more cups the water to drip it over him in another section.
Oh it does tease him, terribly. Especially when she leans so close, the spark in her eyes just waiting to catch and, well, has Jacob ever been good at denying anything?
So as she leans in, he shifts, so he can catch her lips with his own. Brief, because the movement does make all his muscles scream in protest, and because if he tries to get away with anything else she'll no doubt tell him off.
But a little kiss? He owes her that much. More, in truth, but as the water splashes down his chest, followed by her hand, he knows he's probably going to repay some of that kindness soon enough.
Leaning into it with a smile, dragging her lips slowly over his languidly. Even if he'd protest the thought ( how different he was sometimes, it was never about proving with him, it was about giving, he always wanted to give, so, so much ), she knew he was too tired for more. It had been a long night. More so than for him, than for her. A lazy way she drags the affection in the gesture out from between his lips, her fingers slipping up his neck.
A little kiss? How could she protest that?
When she pulls back, she licks her lips, dragging her teeth slow over the skin. She never got sick of it. Never got sick of him. It never made any sense, in its way. She'd liked plenty of people. Good and bad, stupid and fun, thoughtful and cruel. But none of them made her whole heart tense up like his smile did when he turned it on her.
"Can't reach all of you."
It's a terrible excuse for what it is: an excuse to touch him. Reaffirm that he was alive and safe and not going anywhere tonight at least. She's going to lose him one of these days, she knows. This isn't made to last. But it was made to be good while it was. Her legs lift, and - doesn't bother to get out of her underwear, as she slowly dips her toes into the warm water, stockings and all. Sliding the rest of herself to follow. Navigating it all particularly, to make sure she didn't bump him, hurt him, but in turn: shifts her so she drops low and slowly begins to crawl her way up to his body through an idle drift in the water until her knees shift to settle either side of his hips. A little nudge as light as she can possibly make herself, she settles into his lap. "Okay?"
Because her needs right now didn't mean anything, if he was even a little bit hurt by her. Not even letting herself sink down completely just to make sure, as the water laps around her chest.
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no subject
His eyes have closed, just for a moment, while all of that go through his head, and they open again once she seems to have make herself comfortable. Still half dressed, which probably means she isn't going to slip into the water with him, even if he asks nicely. He won't push it. He'd like to pride himself on always giving her a good time, and he already feels like that winning streak is over. Best not add insult to injury.
She's beautiful though, even perched on the edge of the bath in her underwear. Enough to make him grin at her and she turns the taps. He doesn't have to say anything in that moment, he can just enjoy the view, the perfect skin, the curves hidden but only just, the elegant limbs and gentle fingers. Fingers that have many more talents than he'd previously given her credit for.
He'd tried not to ever let her find out about what he did at the office as Evie had put it. He'd always wanted to keep their relationship simple. Sex and fun, dinner or drinks out, or both, without any strings. No one needed to unpack their baggage, no one needed to know too much.
Now in pretty much the most dramatic way he could imagine, all the cards are out on the table. And yet... this isn't bad. She didn't slam the door on his face. She'd helped him, more than he'd expected. He'd thought he'd have to sew himself up while she hovered and fretted. The fact she hasn't... well. He'd incredibly impressed by how calmly she managed all of that.
Like it was routine.
"So, Jack Darling huh?"
no subject
... Well she guessed, it was nice, either way. As he stretches out in the water, and she tilts her head, dropping her eyes a little to bit her lip. Didn't have to work it out, right now. Save it for another day.
What mattered right now was that he was looking a little better already. She shifts closer when it's all turned off, reaching over to find the liquid soap that was the other side of him. Maybe because then she doesn't have to look at him when he asks that particular question.
"Yeah. My dad." She doesn't really know where to start or end that part of herself, her life, a childhood spent learning things the hard way. "He didn't always run the Hyperion Corporation. Had to get there the hard way. Meant I got used to patching up his guys, in the middle of the night a lot."
no subject
"You're very good at it." He says, aware that without her he'd have done it himself, and make a complete mess of it. But they both know that and so there's no need to say it. And there's no need really to dwell on the news of who her father is, although he feels like he wants to ask her really?. That's like saying Al Capone was your grandfather.
Or something.
It's quite clear that she doesn't want to talk too much about it, and he understands that much at least. He doesn't talk about his family, and she knows Evie. But as Angel has never once mentioned her dad before now, then he'll let it rest. They're all too tired, and he knows he is barely thinking straight.
"You sure you want me around for a few days? I don't want to get underfoot."
no subject
"Well, been doing it since I was ten. Took some courses from this Doctor that had his license suspended that Jack had on his pay. Guess it paid off." She laughs as she brushes against his neck, splaying her fingers wide.
Alright, maybe she just didn't mind touching him, no matter what the reason was. "And I don't know... " she tilted her head, teasing, giving him something other than pain to think about. "... Think I can find enough reasons to make you stay in bed, getting rest?"
no subject
For the most part it's to put other people off. This is wonderful.
"If I'm in bed with you, I won't be resting."
no subject
She didn't know when she started thinking of him like that, but she wasn't going to question it right now. It was all she needed as she works her fingers against his upper arm on his uninjured side.
"You're not tearing those stitches." She scrapes her teeth on the side of her lower lip, looking over him. "... So you're going to have to take it slow. Doctor's orders."
no subject
But he's certain on one thing: his life is so much better with her as an integral part of it. He doesn't deserve her, but he'll hold onto her with both hands if he can.
"Is that the doctor that lost his licence to practise medicine or your orders?"
no subject
Slowly, she cups water in her right hand and lifts it, to splash it languidly over his chest, to begin to wash away the soap bubbles. Reveal him clean below it that she runs her fingers over with no pretext of just enjoying touching him before she reaches the water, and once more cups the water to drip it over him in another section.
no subject
So as she leans in, he shifts, so he can catch her lips with his own. Brief, because the movement does make all his muscles scream in protest, and because if he tries to get away with anything else she'll no doubt tell him off.
But a little kiss? He owes her that much. More, in truth, but as the water splashes down his chest, followed by her hand, he knows he's probably going to repay some of that kindness soon enough.
no subject
A little kiss? How could she protest that?
When she pulls back, she licks her lips, dragging her teeth slow over the skin. She never got sick of it. Never got sick of him. It never made any sense, in its way. She'd liked plenty of people. Good and bad, stupid and fun, thoughtful and cruel. But none of them made her whole heart tense up like his smile did when he turned it on her.
"Can't reach all of you."
It's a terrible excuse for what it is: an excuse to touch him. Reaffirm that he was alive and safe and not going anywhere tonight at least. She's going to lose him one of these days, she knows. This isn't made to last. But it was made to be good while it was. Her legs lift, and - doesn't bother to get out of her underwear, as she slowly dips her toes into the warm water, stockings and all. Sliding the rest of herself to follow. Navigating it all particularly, to make sure she didn't bump him, hurt him, but in turn: shifts her so she drops low and slowly begins to crawl her way up to his body through an idle drift in the water until her knees shift to settle either side of his hips. A little nudge as light as she can possibly make herself, she settles into his lap. "Okay?"
Because her needs right now didn't mean anything, if he was even a little bit hurt by her. Not even letting herself sink down completely just to make sure, as the water laps around her chest.