The romance isn't ruined by her wandering hands, because as soon as he feels her fingers sliding over his skin, he knows and welcomes the fact that they're going to have their reunion right here in the grass. He shifts just enough to help her goals along, and his shirt is gone before he can really think about it - as though he hadn't sped the process. The air is cool against his skin, but her hands are warm and that's all he cares about.
He leans down and kisses her again, sliding his own hands up her shirt too, nudging her to sit up enough for him to give her shirt the same treatment as his. "That is the only thing I want to do right now, Jyn. This is all I want. You, right now."
Jyn hasn't worn a bra outside of combat since 1915 -- and considering they were patented in 1914, that speaks to her utter stubbornness in the face of societal pressure -- so when Cassin sweeps her shirt off, that is all there is to take off. Not even travel will convince her to wear a bra, especially now that it is so comfortable.
"Good thing we live so far from town," she murmurs, pushing him back and down so she can clamber into his lap and lean down to kiss him. Her fingers brush against his cheek, slide up into his soft hair, for a moment she is lost in looking at him, soaking up the moment to hold on to a hundred years from now. She doesn't remember every moment, there have simply been too many over the centuries, but she remembers every reunion, even when they weren't together. There has always been some invisible string pulling them together, dragging them together when they'd run away from each other once more, and she feels it let go when she is finally in Cassian's arms again. Like some tension has broken, some well has overflowed, some stupid girl has finally come home.
"I love you." It bears repeating, no matter how many times she has said it now. It will never been enough for how he makes her feel.
He's seen her bare a thousand and more times, but his eyes still travel up her chest when her shirt goes flying, only this time she does not give him the time to linger, shoving him backwards and climbing into his lap.
Which is perfectly fine. His hands don't quite settle; they wander as they stabilize her, curving into her waist, tracing the edge of her hip, all places he knows very intimately and can find without looking - which is good, because he's too busy meeting her gaze and basking in the warmth that comes with every reunion they have. The warmth of Jyn, the warmth of home, the warmth of the intensity of her feelings. They've had decades to burn. They always have kindling.
"I love you too," he says, smile gone soft again. It isn't enough. Neither of them have quite found the enough to convey it. She is everything. "Until the end of time."
Time, death, life, Jyn refuses to let anything stop their love. Cassian is the only thing in the universe she has never grown tired of, even when she has grown tired of herself, Cassian has always been something to look forward to. Even when they weren't apart. She looked forward to waking up next to him. 400 years and he is still exciting.
Her fingers trace his jaw, nails catching on the stubble. "Take your pants off."
Baze and Chirrut had found him about twenty years after he'd become immortal, and it had gotten better, no longer being alone, but he still struggled with what it meant. For the future, for how old the two of them already were. And no matter how much he hates it sometimes, no matter how tired he gets, he remembers he only has Jyn because of this strange curse, and then maybe he thinks it's more of a blessing.
"You are sitting on them. How would you like me to do that?" He will start with hers instead, he supposes, sliding his hands inside them and curving over her ass.
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ohnofeelstho2020-07-16 09:27 pm
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He leans down and kisses her again, sliding his own hands up her shirt too, nudging her to sit up enough for him to give her shirt the same treatment as his. "That is the only thing I want to do right now, Jyn. This is all I want. You, right now."
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"Good thing we live so far from town," she murmurs, pushing him back and down so she can clamber into his lap and lean down to kiss him. Her fingers brush against his cheek, slide up into his soft hair, for a moment she is lost in looking at him, soaking up the moment to hold on to a hundred years from now. She doesn't remember every moment, there have simply been too many over the centuries, but she remembers every reunion, even when they weren't together. There has always been some invisible string pulling them together, dragging them together when they'd run away from each other once more, and she feels it let go when she is finally in Cassian's arms again. Like some tension has broken, some well has overflowed, some stupid girl has finally come home.
"I love you." It bears repeating, no matter how many times she has said it now. It will never been enough for how he makes her feel.
no subject
Which is perfectly fine. His hands don't quite settle; they wander as they stabilize her, curving into her waist, tracing the edge of her hip, all places he knows very intimately and can find without looking - which is good, because he's too busy meeting her gaze and basking in the warmth that comes with every reunion they have. The warmth of Jyn, the warmth of home, the warmth of the intensity of her feelings. They've had decades to burn. They always have kindling.
"I love you too," he says, smile gone soft again. It isn't enough. Neither of them have quite found the enough to convey it. She is everything. "Until the end of time."
no subject
Time, death, life, Jyn refuses to let anything stop their love. Cassian is the only thing in the universe she has never grown tired of, even when she has grown tired of herself, Cassian has always been something to look forward to. Even when they weren't apart. She looked forward to waking up next to him. 400 years and he is still exciting.
Her fingers trace his jaw, nails catching on the stubble. "Take your pants off."
no subject
"You are sitting on them. How would you like me to do that?" He will start with hers instead, he supposes, sliding his hands inside them and curving over her ass.