Katherine "Kissin' Kate" Barlow (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ikissdhimbck) wrote2013-08-25 10:06 pm
ikissdhimbck) wrote2013-08-25 10:06 pm
Entry tags:
OOM: Room #100 -- for Tommy Gavin
Tonight isn't any different than most other nights. Tommy stops in late, long after Kate returns from her nightly chores, washes up, and changes into something clean and comfortable. He brings along dinner, and the two sup together in comfortable silence.
It's been a tiring period for them both. Sometimes a quiet dinner is just what they need.
They're only just finishing up. Soon, she'll tenderly peel him out of his clothes and put him to bed with her, watching over him until he's relaxed enough to fall asleep.
It's been a tiring period for them both. Sometimes a quiet dinner is just what they need.
They're only just finishing up. Soon, she'll tenderly peel him out of his clothes and put him to bed with her, watching over him until he's relaxed enough to fall asleep.
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"Ah, not — necessarily. S'jus' ... par for the course. Bein' what we are to each other. An' your mind constantly changin'."
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"My mind-- changing? I don't-- do I change my mind all that much?"
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"Constantly. Sometimes y'change it back half a dozen times dependin' on your mood."
It's tough keeping up with him.
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But he thinks back to some of his recent...moods, and tries to recall if he'd changed his mind back and forth on anything in particular. And he purses his lips, grimacing a little, bobbing his head from side to side.
"I guess..."
When he's angry or annoyed, he supposes he could turn fickle and indecisive and make hasty choices, only to go back on them later. It's all part of his habit of saying one thing and doing another. Kate isn't the first one to bear the brunt.
He looks a lot more rueful now.
"Okay, yeah. ...'M sorry?"
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She looks askance, shaking her head a little.
"I wasn't diggin' for an apology. Ain't no skin off my nose."
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He rubs the back of her hand on the book, his thumb sweeping over her wrist.
"And I'm glad it's no skin off your nose, 'cause I like your nose and it's really, really cute and it'd be a shame if anything happened to it, 'specially skin peeling off of it, although that could happen if you get sunburned, I guess..."
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"Why are you actin' so nervous?"
Laughter's hidden in her tone. She's still curious about how they ended up here, with him all rambles and raves, like he's just come into class without his homework assignment and hasn't yet settled on a good excuse.
She closes her hand around his.
"Tommy. I knew what I was gettin' into with you. I don't expect a thing from you. So jus' settle down, all right? 'Course I'm vulnerable with you; I threw away my whole future t'be with you. Any future I might've had, anyway. You knew that, didn't you?"
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Which means, yeah, he's kind of nervous about getting something wrong.
After watching her fingers curl around his hand, his eyes then snap up to meet hers.
"Threw away your--? What? No, I-- I didn't. Honey, I ain't stopping you from doin' what you want, so why would you--?"
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"Because we talked 'bout it before I ever let you into my bed. Dontcha remember? No picket fences, no happily ever after ... ?"
She shakes her head, searching him out for any glimmer of recollection, any hint of understanding. She thought she'd exposed herself rather neatly back then, but now she's questioning whether he was ever on the same page with her at all.
"Why didja think I got so mad when y'got all suspicious of John an' Jim? Or when y'left the way y'did over Christmas an' came back demandin' answers from me? Tommy, I'm — I know y'do this sorta thing every day, an' I was jus' another notch in your bedpost by the time we got together, but what I meant when I said 'that's why you're the only man I'm seein',' is you're the only man I'm seein'. When y'leave me, there ain't gonna be nobody else comin' t'call. No respectable man is gonna bed a woman who's slept around. No weddin' ring, no picket fences, no happily ever after. With anybody."
She pauses to see if any of that is sinking in.
"Don't y'know how much of myself I trusted you with when I invited y'up t'my room that first time? How terrified I was? D'you have any idea how hard it would be t'do that with anybody else?"
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"I remember that, honey, really, I do... It's just that sometimes, when I'm with you, I forget that your world and your time is different from mine, and-- I dunno, just-- the way you said 'threw away' made me think that you are totally capable of getting whatever you want and doin' whatever you want 'cause you are just that great, and..."
Trailing off his ramble with a shake of his head, he gives a small, sheepish shrug.
"But I do understand-- a lot better now. 'Specially after spending all this time with you. I mean, yeah, of course, I always knew that us bein' together was a big deal for you from the start, and-- it's why I worked so hard to earn your trust. And to get it back when I lost it. And even though you keep tellin' me that you don't expect anything from me, I just-- I just wanna make this whole thing worth it for you for as long as it lasts."
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"I never forget how different our worlds are."
And she never could now, not since — well. It's constantly in her mind and in front of her face. And, to be fair, she's not all that fond of his future.
"Y'think gettin' letters with 'bitch' an' sexual propositions is bad, y'wouldn't wanna see how I'd be treated in polite society. Funny, though — I guess the future ain't all that different after all. But that's neither here nor there. I reckon what I should've said is I chose t'throw my future away. What chance did I really have, anyway?"
She breathes a quiet, wry laugh.
"Jus' — remember another thing we got outta the way 'fore we was ever intimate is that y'wouldn't lie t'me. That means makin' promises y'can't keep, too. I dunno what it means t'you t'make this whole thing worth it; I've realized that we see things awful different since gettin' back together. But, like I told you, I knew what I was gettin' into, Tommy, an' I chose t'get into what it was at face value, an' if y'go actin' different an' tryin' t'make things better an' treatin' me like somethin' special, an' y'get my heart all tied up in it, an' in you, an' then y'walk away—"
She's getting visibly upset now. That would be more cruel than just using her for sex.
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"Kate--"
He cups her cheek as it grows flushed against his palm, turning her face so he can look her in the eye.
"I already promised you that I wouldn't lie to you-- and that's a promise I'll keep. And whatever happens down the road, just know that I don't wanna hurt you. Okay? Now, we've got this far. We've been through some rough spots. But bein' here, in your room, with you, in my lap and reading to me--"
He utters a half-laugh in amused disbelief, because he'd never thought that he'd ever want anybody to read anything to him--
"Honey, this right here is worth it."
Stroking her temple with the pad of his thumb, he sighs, pursing his lips.
"I just hope you never regret choosing to be with me."
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She covers the back of his hand, leaning just a smidgen into his touch. Her eyes practically glow with earnestness.
"I know, I'm jus' — m'just postulatin'. You've been so good t'me over the last four months that it worries me. But I–I know."
Her lips twitch at his half-laugh, eyes flicking away for a moment. That last remark tightens the noose around her heart.
Her voice drops to a whisper.
"Tommy, I'm not gonna regret choosin' t'be with you. I admit that I was selfish at the start. I was lonely, an' you were — there, an' persistent. I thought it'd jus' be — a tryst. Somethin' t'fill the lonely hours. An' I didn't much care; I didn't think we'd become friends."
She squeezes his hand.
"But we did. That is worth it."
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He nods faintly, her whispered words warm against his lips, the curl of her fingers drawing him in. He knows how it is, how not caring eventually evolves into actual caring because it's too hard to avoid those feelings. He might even get a little too tied up in her, if he'd let himself. But he chooses not to. For her sake, and for what might happen down that road.
He closes the gap between their mouths, kissing her tenderly, almost chaste, though his hand slips from her cheek to cradle the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair. When they break after a few indulgent moments, he touches his forehead to hers.
"Wanna go to bed?"
There's no smirk, no unnecessary sly insinuation. It's only a suggestion, something to do, together.
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"I couldn't really stop you if that's what y'wanted. You're like a jolly giant compared t'me. Your hand's as big as my head."
She smirks. She's installing a little levity into the moment. He's often so serious, and lately her thoughts have been heavy; sometimes she tires of all the doom and gloom. It's no less true, however. Tommy dwarfs her completely, and if he wanted to he could pick her up just like she was nothing.
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"What--?"
Tommy breaks into an amused grin, relaxed and easy, and exhales a quiet chuckle. As much as it feels good to make Kate smile, she has her ways of lifting the world off his shoulders.
"For your information, Miss Barlow, I ain't jolly."
But she is smaller than him by an almost comical degree. That's just a perk in his book. Easier to curl up with. More fun to carry around.
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"Bet I could make you jolly if'n I tried."
She tosses her head, affecting a proud air. That smile doesn't go anywhere, though.
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"Oh, if'n you tried? Well, maybe you should, if'n you really can."
He'll never get tired of her little colloquialisms.
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Surely not. He must be smarter than that.
The corners of her eyes crinkle, and just as quickly her expression settles into one of longing. She drinks him in, fingers ghosting along his jaw. Tilting her chin forward the few inches it takes to catch his mouth, she kisses him; soft, warm, lingering. A quiet moan caught between them.
And then, hand snaking down his chest, tugging at the hem of his shirt—
She tickles his belly.
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And the way she proves herself, with a delicate touch and a kiss that sends a familiar warm thrill down his spine-- well, that's his kind of jolly. Returning the kiss, he's perfectly happy to believe her. Especially when her hand slips further down his body--
"GAH no-- stop--!"
Half-laughing, half-yelping, he tries to catch her offending hand as he wriggles frantically underneath her as if trying to escape into the cracks between the armchair cushions.
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A cowgirl who, with a wicked laugh, immediately pounces upon him while he's distracted, straddling him and clenching tight. He'll have a devil of a time getting her off of him now, so she concentrates on digging her fingers into his ribs.
"Y'didn't say puh-lease!"
Deft fingers skitter over his bare skin.
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That startled noise is a result of her doing the thigh thing that she does. He doesn't need reminding how strong her legs are as he tries to twist and turn his torso away from her in an attempt to deflect her hands. But she's got him pinned to the chair-- and frankly, he likes it. He could do without the tickling part, though.
"I don't hafta-- say please!" he gasps defiantly.
Goddamn, her hands are fast.
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Suits her just fine. She's actually having a ball of it, watching his face contort with shock and laughter. There's something about his laugh, hard-won and sometimes coerced. It makes her fly.
She taunts and teases him, trying her luck. Either he'll give in, or he'll remember he's twice her size — and then they might have a real battle on their hands.
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But nope, he's not giving in, as he doesn't know the meaning of the phrase.
"Then I guess-- ack!-- I don't hafta-- stoppit!-- sit here and take this!"
Her hands be damned, he wraps his arms around her waist and swings his legs off the ottoman, and shifts his weight forward. With her thighs still clamped around his hips, he stands up with a grunt, having sat for so long, and now breathless with laughter.
"What're you gonna do now, cowgirl?"
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"Y'think that's gonna stop me, Fireman?"
She's got that devil-may-cry look she gets when she's been out in the desert, riding hellbent for leather. She's never more alive.
She grabs the hem of his shirt and quickly yanks it up over his head. It'll catch under his chin, what with the way he's holding onto her, assuming she gets that far before he tries to move.
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