paradisalogs | [Closed] Video games, go!

He'd rather be the one on the receiving end, but he'd make do. "Just make sure you have the oil."

She snickered at that, stopping the rub and sliding her arms around him to give him a squeeze. "Oh, I think I can manage that, carface."

He was like putty in her hands. All good feelings and warm thoughts. He reached up to rest his hands on her arms, holding them there. "Of that I have no doubt."

"You wanna head in now? Or stay out here for a bit longer..." This reminded her of home. Just a little. With less things trying to kill her.

"Hmmm? Oh. What's the time?" He held up his arm, but his watch was missing. Back with his clothes. A quick scan of the sky, as different as it was, told him that a few hours had passed at least.

"We should probably be going, I think. It's getting late, Kenzi." Though he was fine either way.

"Blah blah late. We should probably eat. I'm starving. Hell, I could eat you," she teased, giving his shoulder a bite before moving out from behind him and heading for the edge of the spring.

"How comforting. Shall I get a lock for the privacy screen?" He was pretty sure she hadn't mentioned being a vampire or a werewolf so that was something. But he'd skipped lunch, so the mention of food made him hungry despite himself. He stood to follow her, still moving cautiously through the water.

"Am I supposed to cook for you, too?"

"You'd better not. It's a screen, Kitt-Katt."

She snorted and rolled her eyes, pulling herself out of the pool and standing beside it to wring out her hair. "I think not. I'm not having someone who's never cooked before try to make me something edible. I've cooked before and I can't cook for crap. We'll go back to the pub."

"Apparently one can't be too sure of these things around here."

That was an excellent view. Quite magnificent. Kitt thanks you, Kenzi, from the bottom of his turbines. Because she was wearing a bathing suit. Swimwear. Appropriate attire for the springs. But he was wearing underwear. Boxer-briefs. Not swimwear. And while he appreciated her show, he wasn't quite up to reciprocating. With any luck, she'd be wrapping her hair in the towel and... he'd only brought one towel.

Perfect.

All right. Not a problem. Dignity. At least he wasn't naked in public. He climbed out of the springs, patiently waiting - dripping and shivering, more like - while she finished up with the towel.

She didn't wrap her hair in it, but she did use it to dab the worst of the water from it. Turning around to tease Kitt for only bringing one towel, she paused before she could get the words out. Oh.

Oh damn.

She was staring, but she couldn't quite force herself to stop, hands distractedly still dabbing at her hair.

Not his finest moment. He doubted Michael would stand around waiting like an awkward schoolboy with his arms limply folded after climbing out of a pool. In fact he was sure Michael wouldn't do that. Michael would be dashing, taking control of the situation with ease and without a hint of embarrassment, a smile on his face.

Whereas he was being scrutinized and found wanting. She didn't have to say it. She didn't have to say it. Her look said it all. It bothered him on levels he didn't know he had. He couldn't blame her. He'd been truly amazing as a car. This gangly body he'd been given in replacement couldn't begin to compare.

"Are you finished?" It was as much an accusation as a question as he reached for the damp towel.

She tugged and almost didn't let it go. "No."

"... I mean, yes. Uh huh. Your... uh... clothes are over there." Gangly? She'd slap him if she'd heard the thoughts in his head. As it was, she was just lucky that he didn't seem to notice the actual ogling for what it was. Because that was a whole other level of something she didn't need to add to her current complication.

He nodded, taking the towel from her and drying off as best he could. What was worse, truly worse, was just how incredible she looked in relation to him. Not that it was bad that she looked that way, of course. He'd been wrong about her looking just like any other woman in a bikini. She looked like Kenzi in a bikini, and that was something special to behold. The piece of shiny jewelry sparkling in her navel only heightened the effect, sending butterflies through his stomach.

... His thoughts were beginning to spiral away from him. Rolling his eyes at himself, he finished with the towel and walked over to retrieve his clothes from where she had left them.

Please bend over. Please bend over. Please bend ov-- mmm. She let a smug smile slip over her face as he bent to pick up his clothes. The used to be car had a nice ass. She quickly looked away, going over and grabbing her own bundle and tucking it under her arm. Then she turned and headed back to the castle as is, bare feet padding along.

"You coming, slowpoke?"

"You're not getting dressed first?" Admittedly, if he pulled on his jeans they'd end up soaked too, and not in good places, and probably make him chafe. But he was still in his underwear, and while Kenzi may have to deal with that fact, no one else should.

"No point. Not soaking my clothes and making it look like I peed myself, thanks."

It seemed to him that women could get away with these sorts of things easier than men. His compromise was to pull on his shirt, hoping they made it back to their room without difficulty or delay.

They did, of course, because nothing of note was happening now that the carnival was gone. And it had literally vanished over night, a feat she was impressed by, having seen carnies linger around for a while after one had 'packed up'.

'Relief' did not begin to cover what he was feeling. He wouldn't be caught out like that again - next time, even if he was sure he wouldn't be getting wet, he would bring swimwear and an extra towel. Maybe two.

He dug out some clean clothes, combed his hair with his fingers, and called himself presentable.

And she sprawled on the bed after she'd laid a towel down, a bottle of oil on the bedside table and an impatient hum. Food could wait until after she was a gooey pile o' Kenzi.

Oh. She hadn't forgotten. Oil was going to complicate things. And... she was still in her swimsuit. He could only hope he didn't he didn't get oil everywhere. She'd probably kill him if it soaked into her bedspread.

He picked up the oil, spreading it around his palms, then sat down on the bed next to her, wondering how best to approach this. "Full body, you said?"

"Mmhmm. You know, it'll put less strain on you if you straddle my legs. You're bending over too much."

Straddle. "Oh. Ah. Like this?" He maneuvered himself so that he was straddling her, just like she asked - sort of. Did straddling one of her legs count? It was hard to move with his hands already oiled.

"Over both legs. Then you can sit on them. Ish."

Have all the wide eyes, Kenzi. All of them. "Won't that hurt you?"

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