[ Reflexively (defensively), Nami bends her index finger after Ichigo's hand covers hers, concealing the worst of the thin scars and nicks that span the spots where too many shoddy pens and cruelly long hours at the drawing table have left their impressions over the years spent making Arlong his maps. Nami tries not to let herself linger on the regret that she can't hide every faint but still uneven bit of skin from the pad of his thumb as it grazes the small, faded club.
The past isn't worth focusing on right now, and neither is the caginess that arises hand in hand with the sense of appreciation that warms through her chest at his words. She needed to hear that from him, but she doesn't have to like that she needed to hear that. ]
A lot slower. [ Her free hand rests on the one he's settled on hers, smiling at him hesitantly but fondly. He may have meant it as an insult directed at himself, but when Nami agrees, it's too earnest not to be wholly sincere. Everything that happened might have gone down fast, but if anything, it was more of a condensed version of a great experience rather than anything worth poking fun at him about - which says a lot considering how fun it is to give him shit. ] And less apologizing. There's no reason. I'm not sorry I came up here.
[ Reassured but left with the increasingly familiar feeling that she's making this up as she goes, her eyes run over his form, lingering on the slight glow of aquamarine coming from the hand she isn't holding. ]
Is... [ Nami's been focused on putting out the more immediate fires in the vicinity - and tripping over herself in the process - it hasn't escaped her attention exactly, but the rest of him had a more pressing hold on her (hah). ] Is that part of the tattoo thing? Or is that you and your powers? [ She's guessing, but she's spent enough time around Ichigo to know what his abilities look like, and while this isn't the crimson light he flooded that sex doll-filled tunnel with, she wouldn't put it past him to be doing something to restrain himself if it's in the sphere of his abilities. ] Does it hurt? [ Kind of important to know given she's already shown her penchant for grabbing him and pulling him where she wants him to go. ]
（ he flinches a little at the question, half drawing his hand out of her gaze. the only reason he stops is because he doesn't want her to take it as an aversion to her asking at all. she deserves to know, and then she can make the choice for herself about the suit effects. ）
It's... you know the statues?
（ a moment's further hesitance, and then he lifts the hand up for her to take properly. the stone's retreated, but it's not quite entirely gone. ）
I think that's what happens if you — hold out too long.
[ The statues - it's all she needs to hear to make the connection, and when she looks from the hand back to Ichigo again there's an unmistakable flash of concern in her eyes. He's the one in immediate danger here, but that doesn't stop her thoughts from going to the crew as well - a problem for later, for now she's too preoccupied with frowning at Ichigo. ]
And you said you were okay? [ She makes a brief tsking sound under her breath, wanting to reach for him again but settling for the safety of continuing to let her hand cover his. ]
Idiot. Why didn't you say something before it got this bad? [ Stupid question - one she'd be able to answer quite readily if the tables were turned and it was her with something like this to hide (on top of all the usual stuff she's got to hide that is).
Nami shifts on the bed enough to bump her hip against his side, head tilting like she's got something to mull over. ]
I guess if you really haven't done anything like this, suggesting we start with something you know you like won't work, huh?
（ because he's a stoic bastard, nami, why else??? ）
I didn't know until I talked with a friend about it. It wasn't on purpose.
（ but he does look Thoroughly Chastised, and his gaze cuts away from her like a knife even as his cheeks redden, high points of colour that still as always clash horribly with his hair. the way she can flip to being so matter-of-fact about sex will probably never stop breaking his brain.
gaze askance, head tipped low, he manages to mutter: ）
I liked you on top. You, uh.
（ how does he use words actually??? ）
The, uh. （ no, they're still not coming back to him. so ichigo, in full and abject mortification, just sort of puts his free hand against his chest, hand cupped like he's trying to mime a breast, because. let's face it. he's a boob guy. a boob guy who can't say 'wow i liked the way your tiddies bounced for that 5 seconds i was inside you'. ）
[ To her credit, she doesn't point out that he's an idiot again, as much as she'd like to, and the circumstances certainly seem to fit. Instead, she laughs quietly at his pantomime. ]
You like my breasts? [ If he can't say it, she will, whether it helps or just flusters him further remains to be seen. She wouldn't be shocked. ]
You know you can touch me, right? [ A pause, before she revises that statement. ] You know I want you to touch me, right?
（ nami why are you making him say it what is this torture. he drags a hand over his face, deliberately hiding from the unbearable, unknowable shame of being Seen. ）
Yeah, I like — them. （ ichigo, just use the word. his mouth works briefly on empty air, and then: ） Your breasts.
[ Because they're sitting here, naked on his bed after five seconds of sex. If he can't say the word breasts now, when's a better time - not to mention, if he wants to have sex, he's got to...communicate that.
He gets the word out and she glances down at her boobs before her attention returns to Ichigo, nodding slightly as she tries to ignore the fact that his effort means more to her than the compliment itself. ]
Yours aren't so bad either. Stop apologizing.
[ He's pretty gorgeous all over, actually, but for the sake of not making him clam up again from awkwardness, she keeps that detail to herself. ]
Do you...want to kiss me? It'll either be easier than talking or a lot harder. [ Ideally the former but, she's still trying to feel out what's rushing him and what isn't. ]
the urge to just hide under a blanket is present, certainly, but he swallows it down. ichigo shakes his head, not even sure what it's meant to be in response to, and just. reaches for her again.
kissing. probably better than talking??
it's not quite as frenetic this time, but it's perhaps a bit more... conservative, just a close-mouthed press of his mouth to hers as if that's the alpha and omega of the act.
he does, however, raise one hand to sort of awkwardly hover a few inches shy of her left breast, only making contact after a very sharply drawn, bracing breath. it's whisper-gentle compared to the last time, the cup of his palm doing little beyond just supporting the weight of it. ）
[ Fumbling down the highly pitted road the casino presents has been informative in many respects, but moments like these, now that the frenzy has died off is - trickier. He's trying, she knows it, and it all feels real in a way she doesn't quite have the word for and would likely be satisfied never knowing (tbd).
Ichigo reaches for her, and she goes, letting him steer the moment, her movements slow and measured as, after the gentle warmth from the palm he carefully curves over her breast makes the corners of her lips quirk up in a smile. She leans in, not enough to press herself against his hand, but enough to encourage, enough to remind him that this is alright, that she wants him to do this.
The pads of her fingers touch the underside of his jaw, gently lifting his chin as she draws back the ion of space it takes to drain some of the stiffness out of that kiss, both of her lips brushing against his lower one briefly - a fleeting, careful flash of affection - before they meet his evenly again. ]
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The past isn't worth focusing on right now, and neither is the caginess that arises hand in hand with the sense of appreciation that warms through her chest at his words. She needed to hear that from him, but she doesn't have to like that she needed to hear that. ]
A lot slower. [ Her free hand rests on the one he's settled on hers, smiling at him hesitantly but fondly. He may have meant it as an insult directed at himself, but when Nami agrees, it's too earnest not to be wholly sincere. Everything that happened might have gone down fast, but if anything, it was more of a condensed version of a great experience rather than anything worth poking fun at him about - which says a lot considering how fun it is to give him shit. ] And less apologizing. There's no reason. I'm not sorry I came up here.
[ Reassured but left with the increasingly familiar feeling that she's making this up as she goes, her eyes run over his form, lingering on the slight glow of aquamarine coming from the hand she isn't holding. ]
Is... [ Nami's been focused on putting out the more immediate fires in the vicinity - and tripping over herself in the process - it hasn't escaped her attention exactly, but the rest of him had a more pressing hold on her (hah). ] Is that part of the tattoo thing? Or is that you and your powers? [ She's guessing, but she's spent enough time around Ichigo to know what his abilities look like, and while this isn't the crimson light he flooded that sex doll-filled tunnel with, she wouldn't put it past him to be doing something to restrain himself if it's in the sphere of his abilities. ] Does it hurt? [ Kind of important to know given she's already shown her penchant for grabbing him and pulling him where she wants him to go. ]
no subject
It's... you know the statues?
（ a moment's further hesitance, and then he lifts the hand up for her to take properly. the stone's retreated, but it's not quite entirely gone. ）
I think that's what happens if you — hold out too long.
no subject
And you said you were okay? [ She makes a brief tsking sound under her breath, wanting to reach for him again but settling for the safety of continuing to let her hand cover his. ]
Idiot. Why didn't you say something before it got this bad? [ Stupid question - one she'd be able to answer quite readily if the tables were turned and it was her with something like this to hide (on top of all the usual stuff she's got to hide that is).
Nami shifts on the bed enough to bump her hip against his side, head tilting like she's got something to mull over. ]
I guess if you really haven't done anything like this, suggesting we start with something you know you like won't work, huh?
no subject
I didn't know until I talked with a friend about it. It wasn't on purpose.
（ but he does look Thoroughly Chastised, and his gaze cuts away from her like a knife even as his cheeks redden, high points of colour that still as always clash horribly with his hair. the way she can flip to being so matter-of-fact about sex will probably never stop breaking his brain.
gaze askance, head tipped low, he manages to mutter: ）
I liked you on top. You, uh.
（ how does he use words actually??? ）
The, uh. （ no, they're still not coming back to him. so ichigo, in full and abject mortification, just sort of puts his free hand against his chest, hand cupped like he's trying to mime a breast, because. let's face it. he's a boob guy. a boob guy who can't say 'wow i liked the way your tiddies bounced for that 5 seconds i was inside you'. ）
no subject
You like my breasts? [ If he can't say it, she will, whether it helps or just flusters him further remains to be seen. She wouldn't be shocked. ]
You know you can touch me, right? [ A pause, before she revises that statement. ] You know I want you to touch me, right?
no subject
Yeah, I like — them. （ ichigo, just use the word. his mouth works briefly on empty air, and then: ） Your breasts.
（ somewhere, an angel just got its wings. ）
Sorry I was too rough before.
no subject
He gets the word out and she glances down at her boobs before her attention returns to Ichigo, nodding slightly as she tries to ignore the fact that his effort means more to her than the compliment itself. ]
Yours aren't so bad either. Stop apologizing.
[ He's pretty gorgeous all over, actually, but for the sake of not making him clam up again from awkwardness, she keeps that detail to herself. ]
Do you...want to kiss me? It'll either be easier than talking or a lot harder. [ Ideally the former but, she's still trying to feel out what's rushing him and what isn't. ]
no subject
the urge to just hide under a blanket is present, certainly, but he swallows it down. ichigo shakes his head, not even sure what it's meant to be in response to, and just. reaches for her again.
kissing. probably better than talking??
it's not quite as frenetic this time, but it's perhaps a bit more... conservative, just a close-mouthed press of his mouth to hers as if that's the alpha and omega of the act.
he does, however, raise one hand to sort of awkwardly hover a few inches shy of her left breast, only making contact after a very sharply drawn, bracing breath. it's whisper-gentle compared to the last time, the cup of his palm doing little beyond just supporting the weight of it. ）
no subject
Ichigo reaches for her, and she goes, letting him steer the moment, her movements slow and measured as, after the gentle warmth from the palm he carefully curves over her breast makes the corners of her lips quirk up in a smile. She leans in, not enough to press herself against his hand, but enough to encourage, enough to remind him that this is alright, that she wants him to do this.
The pads of her fingers touch the underside of his jaw, gently lifting his chin as she draws back the ion of space it takes to drain some of the stiffness out of that kiss, both of her lips brushing against his lower one briefly - a fleeting, careful flash of affection - before they meet his evenly again. ]