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Tommy, Kurt and Fatale | Backdated to November 3
Tommy has a girl over, which Kurt... didn't exactly expect. Oops.
Pam smirked down at Tommy from where she sat, straddling his upper thigh, her leg just barely brushing against a certain area she was quite positive he wanted her to be touching a whole lot more. Which she had been, earlier. Just not for quite as long as he'd wanted her to, before she'd turned her attention elsewhere. A few slightly darkened spots, already fading, suggested where, but she wasn't big on leaving marks. They both had plenty of those already.
"Ready to start begging yet?" she teased as she leaned down and brushed her lips over the hollow of his throat, then started downward, very, very slowly. After all, he'd been the one to bring it up, and why not? It wasn't like she had any plans for the rest of the evening, and fucking with the minds of the morons at the rally had left her in a really, really good mood.
A bead of sweat rolled down between Tommy's shoulder blades, tracking down already-burning skin. His arms were shaking from propping himself up, elbows locked straight and his head tipped back. He was so desperately turned on every brush against his skin bordered on painful, Pam's weight on his thigh the only thing grounding him. For someone living in normal time this would have been good, he was sure, but for him it had been hours, days maybe, of lips and hands and hot/sweet/wet/rough and almost.
And all he'd have to do was give in, beg her, give her what they both needed. If he didn't, she might stop. If he did, she might tell him it hadn't been enough. "Is that all you've got?" he asked, but her lips touched him again and a groan ripped out of his throat despite putting everything he had into keeping it back.
"Hey, I'm not the one living in speedster time. I've got plenty.." Pam grinned up at him, then cocked her head, her forehead furrowing.. "You know I'm just screwing around, right? If you want me to stop, I'll stop." Because honestly, she wasn't sure he was enjoying this half as much as she'd thought he would. Maybe not as much as he'd thought he would, either.
That brought him out of it, the headspace that had been fogging out his brain, took the edge off the need screaming through him. He shook his head, smiled and moistened his lips. He found his words again, his breathing heavy. "No, don't," he- fuck it, he begged, and laughed at himself for it. Tommy reached for her, laced his hand through her hair, tugged her up to him for a kiss. "It's good. You're good. Amazing. Fuck. Don't stop."
Pam's face warmed, and she smiled. Amazing. She liked that. "Alright, then. But just say when, ok?" She grinned. "Believe me, I'm ready when you are." She shifted back down, and leaned in to brush her lips over his stomach, her hand settling on his thigh to stroke it slowly.
"Holy shit," Tommy replied reverently, his muscles tensing under her ministrations. If she kept that up for too much longer he wasn't going to be able to stand it-
Kurt appeared in a flash and swirl of blue-black smoke, a DVD in hand for a movie that had been talking about recently. “Tommy, I—“ His eyes went wide in shock and he immediately put a hand over them, throwing up the other to block everything. Just. Everything. “Oh mein Gott! Das—Das ist ein Hintern. Das ist definitiv ein Hintern. Und andere Dinge. Es tut mir leid. Ich schwöre, ich habe nichts anderes gesehen.”
Fatale caught sight of the flash, and before whoever'd made it even started speaking was off Tommy, invisible, and groping for the knife she always kept in the bed frame. Except that was Alex's bed, not Tommy's, and she'd put her knife...where? Fuck. She rolled off the bed, landing crouched on the floor, and turned to see just who it was who was babbling in some language she didn't recognize.
And blinked, even as she fought to resist the overpowering urge to attack.. She knew that guy, even if her mind couldn't immediately supply his name. It was enough, at least, to get her to pause.
"Jesus CHRIST, Kurt!" Tommy yelled. He sped up, grabbed the first pants that came to hand - sweats, fine - and hauled them on, grabbed a baggy shirt for Pam and - where the hell did she go? Had she teleported away? Fuck. He was going to have to do a lot more than beg to get her back after this one. He slowed back down to normal, standing between his bed and Inu-Yasha's, naked except for his sweatpants and the t-shirt in his hand. "What the hell, dude?" and "P- Fatale, if you're still here- here." He held the shirt out towards his bed. Hoping.
“Me?!” Kurt asked incredulously, his hands still up. “I am not psychic! How was I supposed to know you were in here with—” He gestured with a wave of the hand not covering his eyes. “Doing—?” He gestured again.
Kurt. Right. His name was Kurt. Pam sat down on the edge of the bed and dug her nails into her palms, trying to pull it together. Kurt wasn't a threat. She knew Kurt. She looked up when Tommy said her name (weird to hear him call her Fatale, but she appreciated it) and reached out, still invisible, to grab the shirt he was holding out. "Thanks," she said aloud, not quite as loudly, not quite as confidently as she wanted to have said it. She could do better. "And I'm pretty sure we know what we were doing. Hi Kurt. You can uncover your eyes." She debated putting on the t-shirt, shrugged, and tugged it over her head, though she didn't turn visible. Not yet.
It was more than a little freaky to see his not-empty Xavier's t-shirt sitting on the edge of his bed, filled out in a familiar curvy shape. And with no head on top. Jeez, she had to be freaking out right about now. They were on Tommy's turf, not hers -- shit. At least there were no knives on hand. Tommy dropped his hand, resting just his fingertips on the t-shirt's shoulder. There wasn't much point in asking if she was okay, not right now anyway.
"Hi, Fatale. I have good news and bad news. The bad news is I saw your butt and I am sorry. The good news is it was not Tommy's so I am not permanently blind," Kurt joked because what else could he do as he lowered his hands. "Oh, you are invisible."
Fatale chewed at her lip a moment longer, her hand drifting over to rest on the back of Tommy's leg, and focused the feeling of his fingers on her shoulder. Slowly, she let the light she'd gathered around her fade away to reveal a somewhat scared, awkward looking girl sitting at his side. "Yeah. Instinct, sorry." She forced a grin. "No problem about my butt. Though if you want another look, it'd be better if you ask nice, first."
"Don't turn down an offer like that," Tommy replied, the cheer a little forced. "She's hot." He shied away a little just in case she'd found something to stab him with, making a joke of it. But he didn't go far enough to be out of reach, or dislodge her hand.
Kurt gave Tommy a confused look. “Did you just suggest I ask your girlfriend if I can look at her butt?”
That was sufficiently out there to shock a snort of only slightly shaky laughter out of Fatale, though she didn't move her hand from Tommy's leg. "Not his girlfriend," she pointed out. "Besides, it'd kinda be up to me anyway, wouldn't it? Who else would you ask?
"I'm really more of a chew toy," Tommy supplied, not very helpfully.
Kurt pointed at Fatale. "You know what I meant," and then at Tommy, "Too much information."
"For the record?" Fatale held up the hand that wasn't still on Tommy's leg and smirked, just a little. "Definitely not into chewing.”
Tommy rolled his eyes. "Why is it that no-one around here understands the concept of a metaphor?" He would have folded his arms except that Pam was still keeping contact, which - probably? (he still wasn't 100% sure he was reading her right) - meant she was still kind of freaked out. So. "I gotta come up with a better system than just locking the door," Tommy grumbled.. Billy had barged in on him with Tamara, now Kurt - it was like the school was conspiring against his sex life. "What was so important, anyway?"
"Nothing now." Kurt could have been coming to tell Tommy that Bobby had gotten his tongue stuck on a Kitty ice sculpture he'd been practicing kissing on and it still would be nothing now.
"So, are you sticking around? Because I'd kinda like to get back to winning my bet." Fatale forced a smirk. "Though you're welcome to join in." Or...more or less welcome, but she kinda doubted he was going to accept anyway. If he did...well, she could handle that. Or she was pretty sure she could, anyway.
The look Tommy gave her at that one was incredulous, and more than a little concerned. "Wait, what?" It wasn't that he was likely to freak out at the presence of another guy - though it wasn't something he'd ever particularly considered before - but Kurt? That was ... as wrong as getting into something with Billy. Just no.
Fatale smirked at him, just on principle, then turned back to Kurt and shrugged. "Or maybe not."
"I think I will pass. Tommy would only be so lucky," Kurt joked.
"Tommy would love to get back to the part where Tommy was getting lucky," Tommy muttered, mostly under his breath. "Am I supposed to be making introductions here? Or do you guys actually know each other already."
"Already met at the party," Fatale explained. She smirked and ran her fingers up the back of Tommy's thigh, figuring she'd leave it to him to wonder whether she'd heard him or not.
Kurt smiled politely. “And it is nice to see you again, Fatale, but I should probably be going.”
"Nice to see you, too. Catch you later?" Fatale suggested.
"Later," Kurt agreed. "Bye, Tommy." He disappeared in a puff of smoke.
Tommy let out a long groan, pinching the bridge of his nose. "We need to find a different place to hook up. Nothing around here is sacred." The irony, considering how often he randomly burst in on other people's rooms, was not entirely lost on him. Annoying, but not lost.
"No shit." Now that Kurt was gone, Pam let the facade drop, her smirk fading in favor of an expression that mingled frustration and residual fear, and she took her hand from Tommy's leg and instead raked it through her hair. "That happen a lot?"
She all but deflated next to him, her bravado proving to be exactly that. Something tangled dangerously inside Tommy's gut at the idea that she was letting him see that at all. "Often enough." Not counting the times Tommy had been the perpetrator, but really, Billy deserved it. He dropped down to sit beside her, resting his hand on the bed right behind her back. Support, if she needed it. Innocent and deniable if she didn't. "That's what we get for letting teleporters in here," he teased lightly.
Pam quirked a bit of a smile. "Watch it. I'll stop coming, and then you'll have to find someone else to get lucky with."
"You wouldn't be so cruel," Tommy replied, echoing her smile back at her. He wanted his hands back on her, her skin against his, but how likely was she to be in the mood so soon after being freaked out? His attention span ran on an entirely different frequency. He trailed his fingers up the small of her back, brushing against the fabric of his shirt. "Feeling okay?"
"No," she admitted, but smiled a little as she arched her back into his fingers. Nice. Distractions were good. "You?"
"Same as ever, but I'm used to Kurt." That wasn't the issue, obviously, but it was better than poking at sore spots before he was exactly sure where they were. He continued his gentle caress, kind of enjoying the look of his shirt on her. It didn't mean anything -- she had Alex -- but there was something kind of cool about it nevertheless. "You know that if that had been anything dangerous I could have gotten us out of here in plenty of time, right?"
"Yeah." She sighed and ran her hand back through her hair, turning to meet his eyes better. "But that didn't stop me from trying to find a knife, did it? And you can only get me out if you can find me." She made a face. "I hate when I disappear."
"So that wasn't on purpose." It put a new spin on things, one that fit better with the way she'd been acting since. He knew absolutely nothing useful about dealing with feelings, but at least he knew something about surviving. "I'm gonna hazard a guess and assume that those are the reflexes that kept you alive. Of course you wouldn't be able to shake them off right away."
Pam shrugged, knowing he was right. "Reflexes, training, whatever. I'm seriously fucking good at what I do." She grimaced. "Not doing it, I'm still working on." She bit at her lip, debating, then mentally shrugged. Either Tommy would get it, or he wouldn't. "Just...keep looking at me, okay? So I know you can see me?"
Tommy frowned at her, but sure. He'd thought weirder things. He stopped touching her back and slipped his hand into her hair instead, the same solid kind of contact she'd seemed to lean into at the party. "Yeah, you got it," he promised, keeping his eyes on her. "You're the best looking thing in the room, anyway."
"You're only saying that because you want me to get back to what I was doing," Pam smirked. Which wasn't a bad idea. Fuck knew he'd been looking at her then. She reached out and stroked her fingers slowly down his chest.
"Well, now that you mention it..." Tommy grinned back at her, his body responding pretty much immediately to her touch. She'd asked him to look at her so he didn't close his eyes, even when he leaned in to kiss her again.
Pam's smirk softened into a smile, and even as she deepened the kiss, she wrapped her arm around him and leaned back, tugging him with her. "Save the begging for later?" she suggested.
He let her bring him back down to horizontal, his hands sliding up under the hem of her shirt -- his shirt -- to pull it off over her head. Selfishly, he wanted - but no. Priorities had changed, the energy in the room totally different now than the challenge she'd been setting for him before. "Anything you say," he promised against her mouth.
"Mmmm. C'mere, then?" Pam squirmed her way out of his shirt, then reached down to push down his pants. "Might as well get to it before anyone else decides to pop in." She smirked, just a little shakily. "Assuming you're still up for it?"
Tommy kicked off his sweats, snickering at her question. "You have to ask?" He propped himself up on his elbow and skimmed his hand down along her side, her hip, her thigh, a faint frown crossing his face. She'd been playful before, daring and teasing. She seemed off-center now, maybe still freaking out a little. "Are you?" he asked, a little more seriously than they usually flirted. "'cause if you're not feeling it, no pressure."
"No, I'm okay." Surprisingly enough, she was - or more so than not, though the feeling of him against her, skin on skin, was helping with that, a lot. She dragged her fingers slowly down his back and over his butt. "Besides, I'd rather be feeling it. Y'know?"
That was pretty much all the encouragement he needed to arch into her hand, the awkwardness of the last ten minutes bleeding away at the feel of her body. "Oh yeah. I know." And after that there wasn't much need for more words at all.
Pam smirked down at Tommy from where she sat, straddling his upper thigh, her leg just barely brushing against a certain area she was quite positive he wanted her to be touching a whole lot more. Which she had been, earlier. Just not for quite as long as he'd wanted her to, before she'd turned her attention elsewhere. A few slightly darkened spots, already fading, suggested where, but she wasn't big on leaving marks. They both had plenty of those already.
"Ready to start begging yet?" she teased as she leaned down and brushed her lips over the hollow of his throat, then started downward, very, very slowly. After all, he'd been the one to bring it up, and why not? It wasn't like she had any plans for the rest of the evening, and fucking with the minds of the morons at the rally had left her in a really, really good mood.
A bead of sweat rolled down between Tommy's shoulder blades, tracking down already-burning skin. His arms were shaking from propping himself up, elbows locked straight and his head tipped back. He was so desperately turned on every brush against his skin bordered on painful, Pam's weight on his thigh the only thing grounding him. For someone living in normal time this would have been good, he was sure, but for him it had been hours, days maybe, of lips and hands and hot/sweet/wet/rough and almost.
And all he'd have to do was give in, beg her, give her what they both needed. If he didn't, she might stop. If he did, she might tell him it hadn't been enough. "Is that all you've got?" he asked, but her lips touched him again and a groan ripped out of his throat despite putting everything he had into keeping it back.
"Hey, I'm not the one living in speedster time. I've got plenty.." Pam grinned up at him, then cocked her head, her forehead furrowing.. "You know I'm just screwing around, right? If you want me to stop, I'll stop." Because honestly, she wasn't sure he was enjoying this half as much as she'd thought he would. Maybe not as much as he'd thought he would, either.
That brought him out of it, the headspace that had been fogging out his brain, took the edge off the need screaming through him. He shook his head, smiled and moistened his lips. He found his words again, his breathing heavy. "No, don't," he- fuck it, he begged, and laughed at himself for it. Tommy reached for her, laced his hand through her hair, tugged her up to him for a kiss. "It's good. You're good. Amazing. Fuck. Don't stop."
Pam's face warmed, and she smiled. Amazing. She liked that. "Alright, then. But just say when, ok?" She grinned. "Believe me, I'm ready when you are." She shifted back down, and leaned in to brush her lips over his stomach, her hand settling on his thigh to stroke it slowly.
"Holy shit," Tommy replied reverently, his muscles tensing under her ministrations. If she kept that up for too much longer he wasn't going to be able to stand it-
Kurt appeared in a flash and swirl of blue-black smoke, a DVD in hand for a movie that had been talking about recently. “Tommy, I—“ His eyes went wide in shock and he immediately put a hand over them, throwing up the other to block everything. Just. Everything. “Oh mein Gott! Das—Das ist ein Hintern. Das ist definitiv ein Hintern. Und andere Dinge. Es tut mir leid. Ich schwöre, ich habe nichts anderes gesehen.”
Fatale caught sight of the flash, and before whoever'd made it even started speaking was off Tommy, invisible, and groping for the knife she always kept in the bed frame. Except that was Alex's bed, not Tommy's, and she'd put her knife...where? Fuck. She rolled off the bed, landing crouched on the floor, and turned to see just who it was who was babbling in some language she didn't recognize.
And blinked, even as she fought to resist the overpowering urge to attack.. She knew that guy, even if her mind couldn't immediately supply his name. It was enough, at least, to get her to pause.
"Jesus CHRIST, Kurt!" Tommy yelled. He sped up, grabbed the first pants that came to hand - sweats, fine - and hauled them on, grabbed a baggy shirt for Pam and - where the hell did she go? Had she teleported away? Fuck. He was going to have to do a lot more than beg to get her back after this one. He slowed back down to normal, standing between his bed and Inu-Yasha's, naked except for his sweatpants and the t-shirt in his hand. "What the hell, dude?" and "P- Fatale, if you're still here- here." He held the shirt out towards his bed. Hoping.
“Me?!” Kurt asked incredulously, his hands still up. “I am not psychic! How was I supposed to know you were in here with—” He gestured with a wave of the hand not covering his eyes. “Doing—?” He gestured again.
Kurt. Right. His name was Kurt. Pam sat down on the edge of the bed and dug her nails into her palms, trying to pull it together. Kurt wasn't a threat. She knew Kurt. She looked up when Tommy said her name (weird to hear him call her Fatale, but she appreciated it) and reached out, still invisible, to grab the shirt he was holding out. "Thanks," she said aloud, not quite as loudly, not quite as confidently as she wanted to have said it. She could do better. "And I'm pretty sure we know what we were doing. Hi Kurt. You can uncover your eyes." She debated putting on the t-shirt, shrugged, and tugged it over her head, though she didn't turn visible. Not yet.
It was more than a little freaky to see his not-empty Xavier's t-shirt sitting on the edge of his bed, filled out in a familiar curvy shape. And with no head on top. Jeez, she had to be freaking out right about now. They were on Tommy's turf, not hers -- shit. At least there were no knives on hand. Tommy dropped his hand, resting just his fingertips on the t-shirt's shoulder. There wasn't much point in asking if she was okay, not right now anyway.
"Hi, Fatale. I have good news and bad news. The bad news is I saw your butt and I am sorry. The good news is it was not Tommy's so I am not permanently blind," Kurt joked because what else could he do as he lowered his hands. "Oh, you are invisible."
Fatale chewed at her lip a moment longer, her hand drifting over to rest on the back of Tommy's leg, and focused the feeling of his fingers on her shoulder. Slowly, she let the light she'd gathered around her fade away to reveal a somewhat scared, awkward looking girl sitting at his side. "Yeah. Instinct, sorry." She forced a grin. "No problem about my butt. Though if you want another look, it'd be better if you ask nice, first."
"Don't turn down an offer like that," Tommy replied, the cheer a little forced. "She's hot." He shied away a little just in case she'd found something to stab him with, making a joke of it. But he didn't go far enough to be out of reach, or dislodge her hand.
Kurt gave Tommy a confused look. “Did you just suggest I ask your girlfriend if I can look at her butt?”
That was sufficiently out there to shock a snort of only slightly shaky laughter out of Fatale, though she didn't move her hand from Tommy's leg. "Not his girlfriend," she pointed out. "Besides, it'd kinda be up to me anyway, wouldn't it? Who else would you ask?
"I'm really more of a chew toy," Tommy supplied, not very helpfully.
Kurt pointed at Fatale. "You know what I meant," and then at Tommy, "Too much information."
"For the record?" Fatale held up the hand that wasn't still on Tommy's leg and smirked, just a little. "Definitely not into chewing.”
Tommy rolled his eyes. "Why is it that no-one around here understands the concept of a metaphor?" He would have folded his arms except that Pam was still keeping contact, which - probably? (he still wasn't 100% sure he was reading her right) - meant she was still kind of freaked out. So. "I gotta come up with a better system than just locking the door," Tommy grumbled.. Billy had barged in on him with Tamara, now Kurt - it was like the school was conspiring against his sex life. "What was so important, anyway?"
"Nothing now." Kurt could have been coming to tell Tommy that Bobby had gotten his tongue stuck on a Kitty ice sculpture he'd been practicing kissing on and it still would be nothing now.
"So, are you sticking around? Because I'd kinda like to get back to winning my bet." Fatale forced a smirk. "Though you're welcome to join in." Or...more or less welcome, but she kinda doubted he was going to accept anyway. If he did...well, she could handle that. Or she was pretty sure she could, anyway.
The look Tommy gave her at that one was incredulous, and more than a little concerned. "Wait, what?" It wasn't that he was likely to freak out at the presence of another guy - though it wasn't something he'd ever particularly considered before - but Kurt? That was ... as wrong as getting into something with Billy. Just no.
Fatale smirked at him, just on principle, then turned back to Kurt and shrugged. "Or maybe not."
"I think I will pass. Tommy would only be so lucky," Kurt joked.
"Tommy would love to get back to the part where Tommy was getting lucky," Tommy muttered, mostly under his breath. "Am I supposed to be making introductions here? Or do you guys actually know each other already."
"Already met at the party," Fatale explained. She smirked and ran her fingers up the back of Tommy's thigh, figuring she'd leave it to him to wonder whether she'd heard him or not.
Kurt smiled politely. “And it is nice to see you again, Fatale, but I should probably be going.”
"Nice to see you, too. Catch you later?" Fatale suggested.
"Later," Kurt agreed. "Bye, Tommy." He disappeared in a puff of smoke.
Tommy let out a long groan, pinching the bridge of his nose. "We need to find a different place to hook up. Nothing around here is sacred." The irony, considering how often he randomly burst in on other people's rooms, was not entirely lost on him. Annoying, but not lost.
"No shit." Now that Kurt was gone, Pam let the facade drop, her smirk fading in favor of an expression that mingled frustration and residual fear, and she took her hand from Tommy's leg and instead raked it through her hair. "That happen a lot?"
She all but deflated next to him, her bravado proving to be exactly that. Something tangled dangerously inside Tommy's gut at the idea that she was letting him see that at all. "Often enough." Not counting the times Tommy had been the perpetrator, but really, Billy deserved it. He dropped down to sit beside her, resting his hand on the bed right behind her back. Support, if she needed it. Innocent and deniable if she didn't. "That's what we get for letting teleporters in here," he teased lightly.
Pam quirked a bit of a smile. "Watch it. I'll stop coming, and then you'll have to find someone else to get lucky with."
"You wouldn't be so cruel," Tommy replied, echoing her smile back at her. He wanted his hands back on her, her skin against his, but how likely was she to be in the mood so soon after being freaked out? His attention span ran on an entirely different frequency. He trailed his fingers up the small of her back, brushing against the fabric of his shirt. "Feeling okay?"
"No," she admitted, but smiled a little as she arched her back into his fingers. Nice. Distractions were good. "You?"
"Same as ever, but I'm used to Kurt." That wasn't the issue, obviously, but it was better than poking at sore spots before he was exactly sure where they were. He continued his gentle caress, kind of enjoying the look of his shirt on her. It didn't mean anything -- she had Alex -- but there was something kind of cool about it nevertheless. "You know that if that had been anything dangerous I could have gotten us out of here in plenty of time, right?"
"Yeah." She sighed and ran her hand back through her hair, turning to meet his eyes better. "But that didn't stop me from trying to find a knife, did it? And you can only get me out if you can find me." She made a face. "I hate when I disappear."
"So that wasn't on purpose." It put a new spin on things, one that fit better with the way she'd been acting since. He knew absolutely nothing useful about dealing with feelings, but at least he knew something about surviving. "I'm gonna hazard a guess and assume that those are the reflexes that kept you alive. Of course you wouldn't be able to shake them off right away."
Pam shrugged, knowing he was right. "Reflexes, training, whatever. I'm seriously fucking good at what I do." She grimaced. "Not doing it, I'm still working on." She bit at her lip, debating, then mentally shrugged. Either Tommy would get it, or he wouldn't. "Just...keep looking at me, okay? So I know you can see me?"
Tommy frowned at her, but sure. He'd thought weirder things. He stopped touching her back and slipped his hand into her hair instead, the same solid kind of contact she'd seemed to lean into at the party. "Yeah, you got it," he promised, keeping his eyes on her. "You're the best looking thing in the room, anyway."
"You're only saying that because you want me to get back to what I was doing," Pam smirked. Which wasn't a bad idea. Fuck knew he'd been looking at her then. She reached out and stroked her fingers slowly down his chest.
"Well, now that you mention it..." Tommy grinned back at her, his body responding pretty much immediately to her touch. She'd asked him to look at her so he didn't close his eyes, even when he leaned in to kiss her again.
Pam's smirk softened into a smile, and even as she deepened the kiss, she wrapped her arm around him and leaned back, tugging him with her. "Save the begging for later?" she suggested.
He let her bring him back down to horizontal, his hands sliding up under the hem of her shirt -- his shirt -- to pull it off over her head. Selfishly, he wanted - but no. Priorities had changed, the energy in the room totally different now than the challenge she'd been setting for him before. "Anything you say," he promised against her mouth.
"Mmmm. C'mere, then?" Pam squirmed her way out of his shirt, then reached down to push down his pants. "Might as well get to it before anyone else decides to pop in." She smirked, just a little shakily. "Assuming you're still up for it?"
Tommy kicked off his sweats, snickering at her question. "You have to ask?" He propped himself up on his elbow and skimmed his hand down along her side, her hip, her thigh, a faint frown crossing his face. She'd been playful before, daring and teasing. She seemed off-center now, maybe still freaking out a little. "Are you?" he asked, a little more seriously than they usually flirted. "'cause if you're not feeling it, no pressure."
"No, I'm okay." Surprisingly enough, she was - or more so than not, though the feeling of him against her, skin on skin, was helping with that, a lot. She dragged her fingers slowly down his back and over his butt. "Besides, I'd rather be feeling it. Y'know?"
That was pretty much all the encouragement he needed to arch into her hand, the awkwardness of the last ten minutes bleeding away at the feel of her body. "Oh yeah. I know." And after that there wasn't much need for more words at all.
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Though I admit I laughed out loud when I ran it through a translator. But I was at home! :D