“It’s not so bad sitting down,” she said, sliding over closer. Once again she reached out and ran a fingertip over his skin. Hesitantly, she lifted her face to his, eyes flicking down to his mouth, before kissing him.
Stiles pressed his hand to the small of her back, holding her closer. “No. Sitting down’s good,” he whispered, before leaning into her kiss.
This kiss was even better. No more stretching awkwardly, just the warmth of his hand on her skin and his mouth on her mouth. Summer nipped gently at Stiles’ lip, hands coming up to slide around his neck.
“You’re too tall!” she complained, laughing. “The back of my ankle popped is all. I’m fine.” She rubbed at her foot for a minute before looking up at Stiles shyly. “That was … ” She paused, looking for a strong enough word. “Wow.”
“I can’t help it, Summer,” he said, laughing along with her. Stiles bit his lip and met her eyes. “Yeah. It was good,” he agreed, nodding.
“It’s not so bad sitting down,” she said, sliding over closer. Once again she reached out and ran a fingertip over his skin. Hesitantly, she lifted her face to his, eyes flicking down to his mouth, before kissing him.
More sparks. Stretching up even harder, something in the back of her ankle cracked audibly, and she twitched away with a muttered, “ow.” One arm still hooked around Stiles’ waist, heartbeat pounding in her veins and between her legs, she reached down to grab at her ankle. “Fuck, I hate when that happens.”
Stiles quickly wrapped both arms around her to steady her. “Oh my god, are you okay?” he asked, helping to get her to the couch.
“You’re too tall!” she complained, laughing. “The back of my ankle popped is all. I’m fine.” She rubbed at her foot for a minute before looking up at Stiles shyly. “That was … ” She paused, looking for a strong enough word. “Wow.”
Summer lifted up on her toes, one hand rising to press below his shoulderblades. A small sound slipped from her throat at the way he felt, body to body. Gently, she touched her tongue to his lips, asking a silent permission.
Stiles moved his hand down to push it under the hem of her peasant top, letting his fingertips skim up the skin over her spine. His mouth parted instantly, his tongue flicking out to meet hers in a soft kiss. He moaned quietly at the sensations.
More sparks. Stretching up even harder, something in the back of her ankle cracked audibly, and she twitched away with a muttered, “ow.” One arm still hooked around Stiles’ waist, heartbeat pounding in her veins and between her legs, she reached down to grab at her ankle. “Fuck, I hate when that happens.”
The kiss surprised her out of the breathless observation of his abs. She put her hands on his hips to balance herself, eyelids falling shut. Tingles ran through her body, and instinctively she stepped even closer, head tipped back to keep their mouths locked together.
Stiles let his hand slip into her hair, cradling the back of her head as he deepened the kiss. He slid his other hand to the small of her back, holding her as close as possible.
Summer lifted up on her toes, one hand rising to press below his shoulderblades. A small sound slipped from her throat at the way he felt, body to body. Gently, she touched her tongue to his lips, asking a silent permission.
Okay, so it had been a while since she had seen naked male chest — and Stiles’ was a particularly nice example. Lightly, she laid her fingers against his sternum and brushed down, running fingertips all the way down his abs until they caught in his waistband. Her tongue flicked out over her lips before she gnawed at the edge of her mouth.
Stiles’ breath caught in his throat as she ran her fingertips lower and lower. He didn’t know if kissing was off limits, but he knew he really wanted to. The moment her tongue licked her lips, he knew he was done for. He lifted a hand to cup Summer’s cheek, leaning in to kiss her softly, but with need.
The kiss surprised her out of the breathless observation of his abs. She put her hands on his hips to balance herself, eyelids falling shut. Tingles ran through her body, and instinctively she stepped even closer, head tipped back to keep their mouths locked together.
“So. Um. I guess … you should take your shirt off? This is so awkward. Is this a — a clinical kind of thing, just like observatory, or more hands-on, or, or what?” She kept lifting her hands and half-reaching toward him, like she would unbutton his shirt for him, then smoothing them back down over her skirt.
Stiles scrunched his lips to the side. “Maybe… whatever feels right?” he asked, pausing in the middle of unbuttoning his shirt. He dropped his hands as he noticed she reached towards him.
Her breathing went funny, a couple shallow breaths and then a long one, as she kept reminding herself to relax, be calm, this was Stiles and he wasn’t going to hurt her. Summer had to step closer to actually reach him, and she undid one button, and then another one. “You smell nice,” she said softly, absently.
Stiles felt his ears turn red at the compliment and her close proximity. “Um. Thanks. You, too,” he said, chuckling nervously. Finally, he shrugged out of the shirt.
Okay, so it had been a while since she had seen naked male chest — and Stiles’ was a particularly nice example. Lightly, she laid her fingers against his sternum and brushed down, running fingertips all the way down his abs until they caught in his waistband. Her tongue flicked out over her lips before she gnawed at the edge of her mouth.
“So. Um. I guess … you should take your shirt off? This is so awkward. Is this a — a clinical kind of thing, just like observatory, or more hands-on, or, or what?” She kept lifting her hands and half-reaching toward him, like she would unbutton his shirt for him, then smoothing them back down over her skirt.
Stiles scrunched his lips to the side. “Maybe… whatever feels right?” he asked, pausing in the middle of unbuttoning his shirt. He dropped his hands as he noticed she reached towards him.
Her breathing went funny, a couple shallow breaths and then a long one, as she kept reminding herself to relax, be calm, this was Stiles and he wasn’t going to hurt her. Summer had to step closer to actually reach him, and she undid one button, and then another one. “You smell nice,” she said softly, absently.
“Stiles.” She was wearing a skirt, like she told him; one of the wrap kind with a side tie, and a peasant top, and bare feet. “Um. Hi. Come in?”
Stiles waved awkwardly, as he always does. “Hey Summer.”
“So. Um. I guess … you should take your shirt off? This is so awkward. IS this a — a clinical kind of thing, just like observatory, or more hands-on, or, or what?” She kept lifting her hands and half-reaching toward him, like she would unbutton his shirt for him, then smoothing them back down over her skirt.