“You’re fine where you’re at,” Desmond replied. It would probably be better to put seat belts on and all that jazz, but this high up, at this time a night, didn’t make it a real big deal. There wasn’t much of a risk of running into other ships. Maybe a super, but it was on them to get the hell out of the way as it was easier for them to maneuver than it was for Desmond. Any higher or lower, regardless of the hour, and they’d have to buckle up. The brunette did it out of habit and because a lot of his other jobs had him hitting the ground at one point or another. “I’ll let you know if you need to buckle in,” he felt the need to add on the trail end of those thoughts.
He’d been doing fine since he’d arrived to get Dudley. There hadn’t been much, if any, stuttering or too much blushing. It helped that he could keep part of his brain occupied, that he had with the boxes and the unloading and now with the ship itself. It also helped that he’d overcome a major hurdle in just asking him out. Still, butterflies and nervousness kicked back into semi-high gear once Dudley stepped over towards his seat; close, closer than passing motion and closer than simple ‘comfortable spacing’. The heat was creeping back up his neck and a trail of tiny invisible feet were dancing along his skin, creating an anticipatory path of something he didn’t have a name for.
Desmond swallowed once and lifted his gaze to look out the front window. He didn’t really need to, per se, but it helped relieve some of the tension to look on at the expanse of clouds and night.
He wasn’t stupid; he knew what he’d been angling for with the cute barista the moment he’d agreed to keeping the delivery gig for a bit longer. Maybe something more. Maybe. But starting off with something a little heavier felt real fucking good insofar as the sex-fantasy part of his brain was concerned.
He took in a deep breath just as he moved to turn off the auto-pilot he’d had on for the undocking procedures. One hand was on the yoke as the other moved to hit the required controls to do so. Though... that’s when he felt fingers lacing through his thick brown strands--gripping. Desmond stilled, for a moment too shocked out of his own thought processes. His fingers hovered, unmoving, over the buttons as Dudley spoke words that shouldn’t have sounded a little like warm chocolate to Desmond.... but did anyway.
“...I ...I haven’t turned it off...” he murmured somewhere between the moment he registered that his heart was running a race in his chest, and, he was just as fucking hard as he was earlier that day.
He’d been doing fine since he’d arrived to get Dudley. There hadn’t been much, if any, stuttering or too much blushing. It helped that he could keep part of his brain occupied, that he had with the boxes and the unloading and now with the ship itself. It also helped that he’d overcome a major hurdle in just asking him out. Still, butterflies and nervousness kicked back into semi-high gear once Dudley stepped over towards his seat; close, closer than passing motion and closer than simple ‘comfortable spacing’. The heat was creeping back up his neck and a trail of tiny invisible feet were dancing along his skin, creating an anticipatory path of something he didn’t have a name for.
Desmond swallowed once and lifted his gaze to look out the front window. He didn’t really need to, per se, but it helped relieve some of the tension to look on at the expanse of clouds and night.
He wasn’t stupid; he knew what he’d been angling for with the cute barista the moment he’d agreed to keeping the delivery gig for a bit longer. Maybe something more. Maybe. But starting off with something a little heavier felt real fucking good insofar as the sex-fantasy part of his brain was concerned.
He took in a deep breath just as he moved to turn off the auto-pilot he’d had on for the undocking procedures. One hand was on the yoke as the other moved to hit the required controls to do so. Though... that’s when he felt fingers lacing through his thick brown strands--gripping. Desmond stilled, for a moment too shocked out of his own thought processes. His fingers hovered, unmoving, over the buttons as Dudley spoke words that shouldn’t have sounded a little like warm chocolate to Desmond.... but did anyway.
“...I ...I haven’t turned it off...” he murmured somewhere between the moment he registered that his heart was running a race in his chest, and, he was just as fucking hard as he was earlier that day.
Sometimes I feel like a girl~... sometimes I don't~
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SciFi & Chill [Closed] - by Blade - 01-28-2016, 02:20 AM
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RE: SciFi & Chill [Closed] - by danixiewrites - 08-01-2016, 11:01 PM
RE: SciFi & Chill [Closed] - by Blade - 09-24-2016, 02:23 AM
RE: SciFi & Chill [Closed] - by danixiewrites - 03-15-2017, 10:41 PM