lucetilogs | Event Log

[His gaze falls back to her, and the fact that she's blushing just makes his cheeks heat up like a chain reaction.]

Mistletoe? What's that got to do with anything?

It's a tradition back home, more in the west than where I live. But when two people stand under a piece of mistletoe, they... well, you know... they have to... kiss.

[It probably seems really strange of her to be so shy about it, but she really is. Shy and uncertain and... sort of annoyed. She can't kiss Jean, he's her friend! Besides, he isn't... he's not...]

[.....Holy shit.

He's thought about - hell, dreamed about - kissing a girl often enough, but now that the opportunity has opened up nice and wide for him, his mouth is suddenly dry and he's too aware of his tongue sitting in there and--

Well, he's not sure if he's totally given up on the (admittedly outrageous, by this point) fantasy of getting his first kiss from Mikasa.]

Oh...uh...

[He clears his throat, but then he can't think of any words of actual substance to say, so there's an awkward pause.]

Then we...we won't be stuck here? If we... [You know.]

[In turn, Utena's still attached to the idealistic fantasy she has of her prince, despite being away from Ohtori Academy for almost two years now. She really doesn't want to do this, but if they don't, they're going to be stuck here. She sighs deeply.]

...yeah. [It can't be helped. Kissing seems to be the only option!]

[A forced chuckle, with which he tries to disperse the discomfort thickening between them and jumpstart his own confidence. He's gonna need it.]

I guess I can think of much worse people to get a first kiss from.

Edited (i can grammar) 2014-01-22 08:20 (UTC)

Ah? O-Oh, yeah... me too. [It's true, there are worse people she could get her own first kiss from. At least Jean is a friend, and someone she knows.] It could be a lot worse...

[And maybe she'll take a slight step closer.]

[So she's never kissed anyone either... His eyes drop to her lips before bouncing away; he doesn't know where he should look. His face is redder than before.

...Fuck, he's still holding onto these damn eggs, and the meat in its stupid plastic wrapping. What is he supposed to do with these?]

Are you, uh...ready?

[Sighs.]

About as ready as I can get.

[...Aaaand his confidence is steadily tanking.

After a moment's hesitation, he rests his free hand on her shoulder and, closing his eyes, he leans in to press his lips against hers. The whole time, he tells himself that it's not a big deal...but the whole time, he can also feel his heart speeding up in his chest.]

[The moment his lips press against hers, her eyes slide shut as well. She's more than aware of her own heart pounding, and her thoughts race too quickly for her to keep up with them. Their lips are touching, now what? There's more to this... isn't there?]

[...There is, isn't there?

Her lips feel nice against his. Soft. Warm. He forgets that he had jumped in thinking just a kiss, just a kiss, because fuck that, when they can get so much more from this. Instead of drawing away, he moves his lips against hers to draw out the kiss, and the hand on her shoulder jumps to her hair. His fingers tangle in it - and god, it's so smooth - holding her head in place.]

[Wait, what is he--]

[...what is he doing...?]

[Ah.

Utena hadn't--hadn't expected Jean to move his lips like that, or put his hand against the back of her hand, a-and...

She hadn't expected it to feel so good.

Common sense, the idea to shove him away and ask him what the hell he's doing--it only exists for a split second before her own lips are moving against his. Before she's trying to move closer to him, bodies so close that they could dangerously brush against each other--

And suddenly, she's okay with that. The contact and the--whatever this is, because honestly, she doesn't really know.

She just knows that she really doesn't mind if Jean keeps going. She'll even help with that, moving her lips with more desperation than she had a few seconds prior.]

[The motions are a little clumsy, slippery, but it feels good to do this with another person. To be this close, closer than he's ever been with anyone. He wants to wrap his arm around her and pull her against him and--

Fuck these eggs. They're jarring in their carton as they hit the floor, all of them cracking, some more violently than others, their insides spilling across the floor. The packaged chicken slips from underneath his arm and lands with a smack. Not that Jean notices. He's too lost in her lips, her hair, and now - as he crushes their bodies together - her figure, the feeling of softness, where nothing can break.

He likes that thought.]

[There's definitely clumsiness on her end, as well. She isn't any more experienced than he is, but that doesn't matter. She faintly can hear the eggs breaking, but she can't bring herself to care too much. She's okay with it. She moves to get even closer--

But she doesn't get to, because Jean makes a move first. Her lips part in a surprised gasp as her body is pressed against his. Bread and cheese quickly join broken eggs and chicken on the floor as she lets go of them in favor of wrapping her arms behind his neck. She definitely likes the warmth... being against him like this.]

[A murmur of appreciation for the arms wrapped around his neck. More warmth. More closeness.

Now that they've gotten this far, he isn't sure what else to do. But he is overwhelmed as it is, trying to kiss her harder and faster, stroking her hair, curling his fingers around the material of her shirt.]

[She tries to keep up with the quickness and intensity of his kissing, and she does a fairly good job at that. One of her hands moves a little bit upward to pet his hair as well because fair's fair, he's doing it to her. And it feels good to her, so why not?]

Mmm...

[Then she feels his fingers curling around her shirt and she feels her cheeks flush--not that they weren't a little to begin with. She wants something to grip onto, and not his hair. She moves her other hand to his shoulder. She's changing up how she's holding onto him, sure, but is there something wrong with feeling more? She doesn't think there is, right now.]

[Hey, she can feel free to put her hands wherever she wants... He doesn't mind at all. At all. As he kisses her, little sighs of pleasure hum in his throat, and he just hopes she likes this as much as he does.

This is how a first kiss should go.

His hand moves up her side, his touch barely there because he's afraid of messing up and scaring her off or something...]

[--His hand may have strayed too far. Give him a moment and he'll realize that his palm is grazing the side of her breast.

He can feel his face flare up and the rhythm of the kiss is interrupted as he hastily pulls his hand away and places it somewhere more, uh, appropriate. His eyes slide open, to try to look into hers, and he mumbles against her lips:] Sorry... [before trying to continue the kiss. If...she'll let him.]

[She gives a surprised gasp when she realizes where Jean's hand is. Something in the back of her mind tells her that she should really slap him and put an end to this, but...]

[The contact had felt good. Being close to him... feels good. Besides, it was an accident. He's moved his hand now. No harm, no fowl, right...?]

It's... [She opens her eyes to meet his.] ...it's okay... [She closes them again.] Really, it's... [Permission granted, Jean. She'll let you continue the kiss.]

[ooc: continued here]

Edited 2014-01-28 23:32 (UTC)

Event Log - Mistletoe

no subject

no subject

1/2

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

1/3

2/3

3/3

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

1/2

no subject

1/2

2/2

no subject