prydeful | (no subject)

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They don't have sex all that much.

Sorta.

Kinda.

Ish.

...They have a healthy sex life, let's say, which is slightly healthier than normal when one of them hasn't seen the other for a month. (Even if the other hadn't seen his girlfriend for only a few days.)

But there are other things, too, and the post-coitus bit is just as nice as the coitus itself. Kate thinks so, anyway, as she lies curled up on her boyfriend, head on his chest and fingers drifting across said chest, his arm, his shoulder, back to his chest again.

His breathing is slow and even, far more so of both than it was a few minutes ago, and it makes her smile and kiss a spot near his collarbone to see how relaxed he is.

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"Da. I do."

Someone might be getting doodled as a pirate ninja princess later.

(Someone might be having fingertips tracing vaguely tiara-like shapes on her shoulder right now.)

"You have tricked your way through all my defenses. Very fearsome."

"Princess Katya has a ring to it," she muses, and then she grins as she looks down at her boyfriend.

"Fierce and mighty. That's me. And there's only one way to defeat a pirate ninja princess, you know."

"Принцесса Катя," he agrees solemnly, because if she's going to use the Russian pet name she might as well have the title Russian to match.

"Da? Tell me this secret, princess."

If they're in a fairy tale, then there should be helpful exposition, after all.

"It's very difficult," she says solemnly, and traces swirls on his chest.

"He must win her heart, of course. Utterly and totally and forever. And then he must keep it, and convince her to willingly let him do so."

Piotr looks appropriately impressed by the difficulty of this.

This expression does not at all look as if it's hiding a soft half-smile. Anyone who thinks otherwise is clearly crazy.

With equally appropriate gravity, "How would a man accomplish such a quest?"

Just as he's not hiding a fond smile, neither are his hands sliding in light and absent caresses along spine and hip and ribs.

"Well, for one," she says lazily, "he could move his hands higher."

Kate sometimes thinks it is good to be direct.

"But more than that would be telling. That's part of the quest, you know. You can't be given all the answers. It takes a wise man to figure it out."

"Then I will have to be very patient."

And move his hands obediently higher.

"Search for the answers."

And also stretch up, smiling contentedly, to kiss her.

For a while.

A while's good.

Hands are good too.

Kissing's great.

Kate sighs very contentedly when the kiss breaks, arches into the stroking of Piotr's hand, and whispers, "For how long?"

"As long as I need to."

"Maybe a bit more. To make certain."

Her smile's small, but real.

"Make certain of what?"

There's a hint of teasing to the question, and it's still a question that's asked for an answer.

"That I have won the princess's heart."

His smile is just as small, and very warm.

"And that she knows she has mine forever in return."

In this hypothetical fairy tale.

Totally hypothetical.

Totally.

Kate smiles and snuggles a little closer to his warmth.

"Then what happens?"

Because if it weren't hypothetical--which it is--then someone might assume that those two particular things were taken care of already.

"They live happily ever after."

And that part is pure fairy tale.

But it's a nice one.

"Nice fairy tale."

And it is, but her tone's a little wry as she sighs and flops a little more on her back.

(Her one leg is still hooked over him.)

Piotr smiles, a little crookedly, and rolls with her to rest on his side, head pillowed on one folded arm.

The smile fades slowly, though the warmth underneath it doesn't.

(There's something he wants to say.

And he doesn't know whether he should; and part of him is afraid of the answer.

But he wants to.)

"Hey."

And that's still soft, but it's a little insistent as she looks up him, props her head up just a bit more, and lets one hand move to stroke his hair.

"What is it?"

"The ending is for fairy tales," he murmurs, after a minute to smile at her touch and inwardly grasp for words.

This isn't how he pictured doing this.

(He looked for a ring. It's not a Russian custom, but it's the American one. And he wanted to do this properly for her.

He couldn't find any that seemed just right.)

But very little in his life's been how he pictured it, anyway.

"We will not have that part. I know. But -- I am doing this badly."

Carefully, he brushes back her hair, and ghosts the backs of his fingers along her cheek.

(Four words shouldn't be so hard to say.)

"Katya. Will you marry me?"

It's a conscious effort not to phase into the bed right there.

That would kinda give the wrong message, and she's sure of it.

So Kate stays solid, and a little still, and is very aware of the touch of his fingers on her skin.

Every little girl dreams of being proposed to, she thinks.

She's already been through it once.

And in some ways she feels like she should know what to say, like yes, of course makes sense and should be the only words coming out of her mouth, but.

But.

But the ending's only for fairy tales, and she has him here and now, and it's good. It makes her happy. She likes this, like Piotr the love.

And she knows she has his heart forever

(but what about Zsaji?)

and he has hers.

And that's good. And that's enough.

(she's scared of divorce, just like her daddy and mommy)

And she hates rings.

(Edmund must still have the one he bought her, in his Lion's land.)

Kate realizes, vaguely, that she hasn't actually said anything.

That should probably change.

And so she opens her mouth, and shuts it, and then leans over to kiss Piotr's mouth softly, one hand cupping his cheek.

And then she whispers, "Maybe. I don't know. I just--I don't know. I'm sorry. Let me think about it?"

It's not a no.

That's -- it's not a yes either, and he didn't know quite how much he was hoping until his stomach sank at her I don't know.

But it's not a no.

(And even if it were, even if she'd said No, I won't immediately, it doesn't change anything. He knows that. He reminds himself of that.)

"Of course."

"If -- I love you," he adds. "Either way. It's all right."

She said yes to Edmund.

There's no point in thinking of that.

"Think about it."

And again she finds herself opening her mouth and shutting it, and so Kate sighs and decides on silence for a few minutes.

And it's not a bad sort of silence, if not a horrible comfortable one, as she strokes his dark hair and watches the way her fingers look threading through it.

"I love you too," she whispers finally. "Even if--I don't know, Piotr. I just don't know. But even if I say no, I still love you. Nothing's going to change that."

It's not what happens, and she knows it. (Except of course for lots of people it's happened, it's not like they're the first couple ever, but. But. But.) If you love someone and they love you and you want to be with them forever--

You say yes. That's what you should do.

And she doesn't even for a moment doubt that she loves him, doubt that he loves her, that she wants to be with him.

It's just--

She doesn't even know enough to put it in words.

It's not fair to him, she thinks, and knows, and she still doesn't know what answer to give.

"I'll think about it. I am. Already." And the words are awkward, but the tone's a promise, as she keeps her gaze on him.

"I'm sorry I'm not being very good at this part."

"I know."

Because he does.

He wouldn't have ever asked if he didn't.

He caresses her cheek lightly, and very gently. And then, at her last comment, he almost smiles.

"You are Katya. That is all the good I need."

"I surprised you. If you need time, it's all right."

"Sweetie." That's fond, as she tilts her face into his touch.

And just breathes for a minute.

"Look. Mal mentioned that everyone here's got a standing invite to Shadow. Why don't we--let's go there. For a while. You and me. And we'll talk about some things, and I'll think, and--and I'll figure out my answer. And we'll figure other things out. Okay?"

Shadow has fields. And sky, and farmland.

These are things Piotr misses deeply, even when he isn't spending most of his time on a spaceship.

"Okay," he whispers.

He'd say the same no matter where she was suggesting, right now.

But there's maybe a little extra warmth to his small smile, as he leans in enough to kiss her softly and briefly.

"That sounds good."

"Okay," she whispers back, and kisses him the same way.

And then she rolls the rest of the way onto her back, and she pulls him with her, so his body rests over her own.

"And in the meantime, we can talk about other things too."

And, after she kisses her way down his neck, after he bends to kiss a path across her shoulders, they do just that.

There are all sorts of way to talk.

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