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2046-09-07 New Things

From X-Factor

2046-09-07 New Things
Date Posted 2016/09/09
Location Mediocre Hotel
Participants Rohan, Valerie
Summary A morning in a mediocre hotel. Not quite what Rohan planned.
 
Rorohan.jpg ValMorning.jpg
Some sexual content.
'The nearest town' appears to be one that is less an actual town than something sprung up for the convenience of travellers either heading to the big city or to the state parks on the other side; it is mostly a gathering of restaurants (mostly of the fast food variety), gas stations, and, yes, mediocre hotels. They booked a room into one of the nicer mediocre hotels, soulless and impersonal, but clean.

Rohan awakes earlier than Valerie, but not early. It was a long night. A rough night. A loud night. They're lucky no one was in the adjoining rooms to complain. He slips out of bed to take a quick shower to cleanse the last of the grease from his skin (it got everywhere), and then steps onto the tiny balcony to make a call without disturbing her, clad only in a hotel towel slung about his hips. There's only parking lot and trees on the other side to appreciate the view, though.

Valerie is content enough to spend the morning in bed drifting between wakefulness and sleep. She makes a small sound of protest when Rohan stirs, but promptly rolls over and drifts off again with the sheets pulled tight around her shoulders. She squints an eye open when he leaves the shower, then again when he slips outside, but other than some unintelligible mumble, she doesn't truly stir.

Rohan finishes his conversation, and slips back into the room, immediately falling back onto the bed, atop the sheets. He reaches over to lightly brush Valerie's hair away from her forehead. "Mechanic swears the bike'll be ready by two," he tells her, on the off chance she's conscious enough to hear. "Or maybe three."

"Mmrmphm," Valerie answers, ducking her head away from the brush of his hand so that she can pull the sheet up over her head. "So /early/," she complains from beneath its tent, and nevermind that it's not at all.

"You know mediocre hotels have this thing called a 'check-out time,'" Rohan tells her, a low rumble of laughter in his voice. He does not seem in any hurry to check out himself, shifting his body to fit to hers. He is warm and firm through the tent of sheets, smelling faintly of generic hotel soap.

Valerie twists her legs against the warmth of his, letting her toes tickle along the curve of his calf. "Ug," she says. She tugs the sheet down to a spot just below her eyes to peer at him over its top. "Next time, let's go to a fancy one. They don't care."

"Unfortunately," Rohan tells her, wiggling a little closer, and putting an arm over her waist, "I think the only fancy one around here is at some country club in the woods and looks like it might be haunted. But I'd love to stay at a fancy hotel with you. Are you paying?"

"Sure, why not," Valerie answers blithely. She nudges the sheet down a touch further, rolling to her back. One hand slides down to splay across his arm at his waist. "Where do you want to go?"

Rohan presses his cheek against her hair. "It's been a long time since I've done fancy," he tells her. His voice is low and rich with thought. "Other than our little sojourn in your pictures. Had a lot of...the complete opposite of fancy. Hrm. Somewhere with a king sized bed and a jacuzzi in the bathroom and room service to die for." His eyes fall half-closed. "And a really fancy restaurant you have to dress up proper posh for...but I'll have my hand on your thigh under the table cloth the entire time." There's a tinge of sleepy amusement in his voice.

"Oh?" Valerie's interest is clearly perked by this. She turns her head to watch him with a lazy smile. "What'm I wearing at this posh restaurant?"

Rohan's gaze focusses on her a little drowsily. His lips curve in a smile. "Red," he decides. "Maybe black, it's classier. Long dress, sort of velvet, I guess. Neckline that dips a little, traced with lace. Sexy, but in a classy way, not an obvious way, so everyone's looking at you. And," he adds solemnly, "no underwear." His smile turn just a little mischievously. "I'll just wear a suit. A nice suit, with a tie. A certain red silk tie."

"Mmmm," Valerie murmurs in approval. She trails her fingers along his forearm and across the back of his hand in slow stroke. "That's a very vivid picture you paint, R. Where are we, then? New York? London? Paris?"

"Hrm," considers Rohan. "I was thinking New York at first, but maybe not. London," he decides. "I've never actually been there properly, and I'm sure this place will be full of all the stuffy upper class twit types. You can shock and stun them with how bright you shine."

"London," Valerie echoes. Her fingers twist against his, sliding slow and warm. "Good choice. I love London. All those British men with great accents." She turns to grin briefly at him, then adds lowly, "So there we are, eating dinner, me in my velvet dress and you in your red tie, with you hand on my thigh under the table. What then?"

"Some really delicious food," Rohan tells her with a teasing grin. His fingers catch at hers lightly. "We're seated in a shadowy corner, more next to each other than across from each other. I'll pretend to be doing perfectly innocent things--looking at the menu, taking a drink, talking to the waiter, eating--and all the time my fingers will walk slowly up your thigh, pushing your dress up, all the way up..."

Valerie's teeth catch at her lower lip as she watches Rohan. Her fingers shift warm against his, urging his hand down along the smooth skin of her thigh as he speaks. "God, I wish I could take you," she says.

Rohan only needs that faintest bit of encouragement, his hand finding its way through the cracks of the sheet to find her bare thigh. His fingers echo his words, climbing up her inner thigh, teasingly slowly. "And then," he tells her, voice low and close to her ear, "I'll bring you off, there, in the middle of this posh restaurant, surrounded by lords and millionaires, in your gorgeous dress." His fingers find their goal, with the lightest of brushes. "And you'll want to scream," he continues. "But you can't, because you're in public, so you'll bite your lip to keep it back, and squirm and whimper as you come."

Valerie's breath catches sharply at the brush of his fingers, and her nails press lightly against the skin of his arm, but she bites back further sound, her eyes bright on Rohan with glimmering approval.

"And maybe you stay quiet," murmurs Rohan, his fingers pressing deeper now, seeking out the most sensitive places to tease at. "Maybe you stay quiet and hold it all back, fighting to stay quiet with all your control." His fingers are moving faster now, harder, his eyes on her as he gauges her reactions. "Maybe the waiter comes back and you have to gasp out your order, breathless." There's a familiarity to the movements of his fingers, a sense he already knows just where to touch, and where to tease, and exactly where to press against her. "Or maybe you don't care, and just scream. Scream so every stuffed shirt in London can hear you and your pleasure."

"Oh, god," Valerie gasps, slamming her eyes closed as her hips jerk upward against the work of his fingers. She tips her head toward him, finding the curve of his shoulder with her forehead, and her fingers splay against the bed and then convulse. It takes patience and effort, but Rohan's got plenty of practice at both, and eventually Valerie's breath goes still in her chest as she bites at her lip, holding back cries as she tumbles over the edge. Only when the waves subside and she stills again does she echo, "Oh, /god/, Rohan."

Rohan falls silent as he concentrates, watching her intently, a sudden, brilliant grin flashing across his face as she calls his name. He presses a kiss to her temple, his lips warm, and gathers her up in his arms. "God, you're gorgeous," he whispers. "I love watching you melt like that." He adds, more lightly, "And after that, maybe you hide under the table and suck my cock. I haven't decided yet."

"After that, you deserve it," Valerie mumbles against the curve of his shoulder. Despite her words she remains limp and unmoving, curled against him. Rohan seems in no hurry to push her for anything, arms still wrapped around her. "Maybe we can't go to London to commit public indeceny," he tells her, voice soft, "but I'm sure there's a lot of mischief we could get up to in New York. If--you wanted."

"You paying?" Valerie teases. She turns a kiss into the side of his neck, then slides away enough to shoot him a wicked grin as her fingertips glide down the bare skin of his chest. "I mean, I guess I could wear a skirt to a Denny's, but I feel like it'd lose something in translation."

"I don't know," replies Rohan, gaze following after hers. "Maybe the low rent version in Sweet Lou's would work. I'm sure they wipe down those booths sometimes. On the other hand, maybe you're too just rich for my blood." He's wearing a grin to answer hers, though.

"Mmm," Valerie says, leaning forward to press another kiss whisper-light against the point of his jaw. "Well. We'll see what I can do," she says. She pauses, her hands braced against his hips, and pulls back to ask, "How long til they kick us out?"

"About a hour, I think," says Rohan. "Although they probably won't kick us out first. They'll charge us more money and then kick us out." He answers her kiss with one of his own, pressed to her temple. "I'd like to take you out," he tells her, just a little cautiously. He drops another kiss against her jaw. "Drinks, dancing, dinner, and whatever naughtiness we can fit in. There's this little alley behind the Vault. Lots of restaurants with dark cosy booths. All within my price range."

"Mmm," Valerie says again, but this time it comes with a breath of laughter against the curve of his ear as she sets her teeth light against his earlobe. "You don't have to take me out to get me naughty, sugar."

"Oh, I know," murmurs Rohan, suggestion and amusement mingled in his voice. He presses a kiss to her throat, lips warm against her vulnerable skin. "But I'd like to try new things with you."

"Yeah?" Valerie's answer is breathy and tinged with surprise as she straightens, pulling back for a moment to look down at him with a faint furrow in her brow. There's a beat of silence before she remembers herself and grins, brows raised as she says, "Does that mean you've never been sucked off under a table before?"

"Yeah," echoes Rohan, watching her with a lifted brow. "I--enjoy doing things with you." He's awkward for a moment, and then he grins. "Not in public, no."

"That's one of the sadder euphemisms I've heard," Valerie tells Rohan with a flashing grin. She edges backward, sweeping the sheets back as she goes. "Mmm. Well. I can fix /that/ for you," she promises, stretching down to wrap warm fingers around his cock.

"Valerie, I--" Rohan seems about to say something. Something a little more earnest, perhaps. But as her fingers touch his cock, it's as if all conscious thought dissolves. He lets out a deep breath. "Valerie," he whispers, voice caught in his throat.

"Hmm?" Valerie prompts, mostly because she knows he won't answer. She watches him for a beat, taking in his expression, then drops down to repay his earlier favor with lips and hands and a hot, hot mouth focused on absolutely nothing other than making him lose all sense of control.

"I," Rohan tries to remember whatever he was trying to say a moment ago, but her hands are there and her mouth is there and his world is rapidly becoming nothing more than the heat of her sweet mouth. One hand tightens in the bedsheets and the other in her hair, whatever he was going to say becomes a low groan of pleasure.

Valerie is grinning and smug, as she so often is, by the time she's gotten him off, and she rolls away with limbs splaying across the bed and hair a wild mess against the pillows. "Shit," she says to the ceiling. "Do I have time for a shower?""

"Oh god, Valerie," breathes Rohan, collapsing over the bed, utterly relaxed. "I adore your mouth," he tells, her, breathless. "I'm going to have it bronzed." He half-closes his eyes and manages to refocus enough to reply, "Go ahead. I'll defend your honour if anyone tries to kick us out."

"Might make it a bit hard for me to suck you off," Valerie retorts. She rolls toward him just long enough to plant a fast kiss against his mouth before she slides off the bed and disappears toward the shower. "You're a peach!" she calls toward him over her shoulder, a moment before the door closes between them.

"I've been called many things," Rohan calls back, rolling off the bed and going on a hunt for his clothes. "But that's a first."

Perhaps wary of overzealous mediocre hotel staff, Valerie's shower is short and to the point. She reappears a handful of minutes later with a towel wrapped around her middle, her hair dripping droplets of water against her bare shoulders. "Guess it's last night's clothes still, hm?" she says with a note of disappointment.

"Unless you have some stashed in a picture somewhere, Lollipop," says Rohan, frowning at the grease spots on his t-shirt. "I felt weird not being able to shave. Next time we end up stranded somewhere, let's bring luggage."

"Doesn't work like that," Valerie answers with a twist of her lips. "Or I'd be a hell of a lot richer." She follows his frown downward with a smirk, then turns to dig up her abandoned dress, jerking it over her head and tugging it downward with a shimmy.

"At least you look gorgeous in that dress," Rohan tells her, tugging his t-shirt over his head. "Even more gorgeous out of it," he adds, through the t-shirt.

"Careful, Rocky Road," Valerie says, light. "I'll keep you around just for the compliments." She sweeps her hair up in her towel, squeezing it dry.

"I could think of worse fates," says Rohan, pulling his t-shirt down and leaning over to put his boots. "I mean them, though. Sometimes I wonder what someone as hot as you is doing with someone like--me."

"Oh, god," Valerie says, straightening with her hands gone still at her hair as her gaze flashes up to Rohan. "Are you going all needy and weird on me, R?"

Rohan looks up, hands still on his bootlaces. "God, I hope not," he says. "In fact, you have my permission to kick me if I go needy and weird on you. I'm trying to get over that weird phase."

"Good," Valerie says, giving her hair a last squeeze before she rakes her fingers through her wet hair. "Then shut up and let's go get some food. I'm starving."

Rohan has, for a minute, the expression of someone who is mentally kicking himself. "There's some sort of greasy place across the parking lot," he says. "Maybe they have waffles."

Valerie seems to have moved past it readily enough. "Waffles sounds amazing," she says, gathering the last of her things. "Let's go.

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