defenderofdesmoines | Elliot's Apartment, Dallas, 1963

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Elliot's Apartment, Dallas, 1963 | Early, early morning

Was it a good thing that Annie now had so much experience cauterizing wounds that it hadn't taken her much time at all to get the skin on Diego's abdomen fused back together? For right now, it felt like good thing, at least. To her surprise and concern, he hadn't woken up in the process -- he'd stayed completely out (though breathing), all throughout the removal of his clothes (and when she was less worried, those institution-issued tighty whities were getting some commentary), and cleaning and dressing and briefly burning the wound.

Eventually, Annie had fallen into a restless doze at his side, though the slightest movement had her waking up and reaching to check on Diego every few minutes. And good thing, too, since this most recent time when Annie woke with a start as Diego shifted on the mattress, she noticed immediately that his wound had reopened.

"Shit." She should have gone back over that once she'd established he wasn't badly hurt anywhere else, really. Guess she'd have to do it now.

She moved to press a hand into Diego's chest, prepared to hold him steady in case this time he actually did wake up when she burned him, and moved her other hand low to his abdomen. The lamp in the room gave a soft hum, and Annie's hand illuminated, white-hot enough to re-seal that wound for good this time.

Sorry, Diego. Hopefully he stayed out for a little bit longer.

[for the stabbed guy who is, unfortunately for him, not staying out a little bit longer.]

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"Fuck." Annie shifted against him a little in response, unprepared for how much she'd like that. She'd suspected, but -- "Do that again," she breathed, and now the hand in his hair was pulling in what was definitely an encouraging way. Not quite bossy, but definitely flirting with it.

The long hair had lots of benefits!

He was definitely all about that, judging from the way he was moaning against Annie's skin. Diego repeated the movement against her other breast, nuzzling for a moment before soothing the area over with his tongue.

"Yes," Annie sighed, squirming a little against his face for more of that amazing, amazing sensation. "Fuck, I love you."

She rolled her hips against his again, letting out a needy little noise and tightening her hand in his hair.

God, he had missed this. Diego slid his hands over Annie's thighs, lightly dragging his nails across her skin.

"I love you too," he murmured, closing his eyes and trying to recommit this to memory. Safe to say he was not going to take this for granted after what had happened.

Annie pressed a kiss into his hair, just enjoying how close they were for the moment (even if she was already thinking about needing to be closer, still.)

But, even if he wasn't complaining and didn't seem hurt, she was still inclined to look out for Diego's comfort. "Here," she murmured, pressing a kiss to his temple before reaching to consolidate the pillows behind him. Then he could sit up a little -- which seemed to be everyone's preference, at the moment -- without having to actually engage his injured core.

"So thoughtful," Diego teased, sitting up some so pillows could be put up behind him. "Almost like we've done this while injured before."

"I don't know if it's really a good thing that we're like, experts at this," Annie noted, but she was smiling as she leaned in to carefully arrange the pillows behind him. Which meant she was all pressed against him, and that was distracting. "Though I'll definitely say it's good that I've got a solid feel for what you can take, injury-wise, now."

Read: a whole lot more than she'd thought eighteen or so months ago.

Edited 2022-05-19 12:04 (UTC)

"I'm pretty resilient." Especially when it came to this. And if Annie was going to lean over him like that, it just meant he was going to have to place a bite against her neck. He didn't make the rules.

Well, good thing she was pretty much set with the pillows, since that bite just stole Annie's focus entirely and Diego was rewarded with a startled little gasp that faded into a soft moan.

"You're shockingly resilient," she replied when her brain was back online. "It's really impressive."

She didn't just mean his ability spring back from injuries. He was in pretty decent spirits for someone who'd gone through what he'd gone through. (To be fair, though, Kennedy hadn't really come up for a minute.)

Yes, we should all be thankful he wasn't bringing JFK into their sex lives. That would be a bit too far.

"I think you have something to do with it," Diego said, leaning up for another kiss. "You being around makes me stronger or something."

Ew.

Annie smiled into the kiss. "I think you do the same thing for me."

No, Annie. It was the Compound V that let you lift up, like, ten times your bodyweight. Not Diego. But be cute about it, sure.

"No more getting separated, then," she added, sliding her arm around his shoulders just to emphasize the point. "That settles it."

Because they'd had a whole lot of choice in the matter before? Annie wasn't really being serious so much as just wanting to underscore how happy she was to be all wrapped up in him now, and how clingy she was intending to be in light of that.

"If that already wasn't a rule before, it is now," Diego said, sliding his hands over to cup her ass. Just to encourage even more closeness.

Yes please. This was one of those times when there was no close enough, and Annie sighed softly as she leaned in to press a kiss to his ear.

"Totally a rule," she agreed softly, shifting her hips a little in his lap and slipping a hand down between them to wrap around him, minding his abdomen all the while. "One I'm more than happy to enforce, too."

Again: not actually something she had a lot of control over, but suggesting that Annie would kick the ass of anyone who attempted to separate them was kind of more the point right now than, you know, logic.

Now here was the part that would really put Diego's ability to keep still to the test. Because there was still a very fresh wound they were dealing with, here. But also there was touching and it had been a while so the urge to rock up into her hand was high.

He kept himself together. Mostly. Tightening his grip on her ass helped some.

See, and if he kept his hands on her, rather than say, taking it out on the sheets or something, then that would help Annie keep tabs on how he was doing all the better.

Though she knew Diego well enough to recognize that the tightening of his grip probably had less to do with pain and more to do with the three months.

"We're going to take it slow," she promised softly, keeping her mouth close to his ear as she started to move her hand -- not so slow as to be a tease, but definitely obviously keeping a slow, easy tempo in mind.

"Good," he said, letting out a slow breath. This time he couldn't help the small lift of his hips, encouraging more of that touch.

Even with going slow this might not be a great show of his stamina, but he figured he could be forgiven for it this time.

Hey, depending on how his wound held up and whether everyone stayed out of the apartment for awhile, maybe they'd even get a second shot. But this also didn't need to be a marathon. It never was, when it was something like this -- danger heightened everything and being apart heightened it more.

The important part was that Annie felt like she needed to be close to him, and to renew their emotional bond in a physical way. Sex was, as always, a really excellent way to express her feelings for Diego. Sometimes words just didn't cut it on their own.

She took her time shifting into position, her hand moving steadily until she had him angled against her. "Slow," she repeated softly, almost a reassurance, before closing that last little bit of distance as she slid over him and then stopped once their hips were flush to give everyone a second to adjust to that new feeling.

Diego nodded shakily, having to close his eyes and just breathe for a moment at the feeling of Annie around him. He slid his hands up her sides, running his fingers over her skin in a way that was soothing for him (and her too, hopefully).

Slow. He could do this. Nice and slow.

It was soothing for her. And after the last few days -- even if it had just been days for her -- she also needed slow, and soothing, and grounding, please.

But slow didn't mean immobile. She dotted a short string of kisses along Diego's neck and into his beard, letting everyone catch their breath for a moment, and then began to gently rock her hips in his lap.

And already, that was -- you know. Amazing.

"Fuck," he murmured, rocking his hips up to meet hers in response. "You feel amazing."

"So do you," Annie replied softly, tilting her head to kiss him as she moved with him.

One hand was sneaking its way back into his hair again. He did say she needed to do it all the time, you know.

The hair pulling was amazing, even when they were being slow and gentle. It was...anchoring. Let's go with that.

Since she was going to end up having to do most of the work here due to his injury, Diego put his attention to distracting her from that work as much as possible. Namely by sliding one of his hands up to her chest and circling his thumb around one of her nipples.

God, Annie was already making plans (inasmuch as errant, horny thoughts counted as "plans") for how much fun it would be to eventually get a little rough with him, given the hair-pulling. (The beard also factored into her future plans, don't worry.)

"That's so nice," she mumbled, arching against his hand -- which, in turn, resulted in a slight uptick to her rhythm and a slightly sharper tug on his hair, despite how closely she was trying to monitor herself. Couldn't be helped, though.

He also had future plans for that beard, don't you worry.

Diego moved his hips to meet her rhythm, careful not to jostle either of them too much. The slow, steady rhythm was doing a lot for him and his need to cling to Annie right now. He moved his other hand to cup her cheek because why not get more saccharine about this?

Hey, they were saccharine normally and they lived together. Three months apart (even a lopsided three months apart) probably earned more than a little sweetness.

Annie fumbled her hand out of Diego's hair and behind him, grabbing onto the headboard (....couch back? Was this a fold-out? Elliot, come on.) for a little leverage -- not to up her rhythm at all, but rather to maintain it while still being able to focus on Diego. She leaned her forehead against his, her free hand finding a path down his arm until she was holding the hand that wasn't cupping her cheek. Just to, again, be kind of saccharine about this.

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