[ oh, he sees that. he'll remember to kiss her between her horns more often...
he lets her guide him closer, though he keeps his hand at her cheek as long as she holds it in place. he's smiling, stroking his thumb over her cheekbone. ]
'Course I would, sweetheart. [ and not just because she said she'd feel the same about him too, metal or flesh or what have you. ] I know you ain't about to lose to some muddle-fudgin' fish-faced cult fudger. You show that son of a nice lady some tough love for me.
[the string of curses gets her to grin - she's gotten pretty good at just substituting them in her head for the actual words. she thinks that it's going to be wild to hear him actually get to swear, in the future, and something in her warms at the thought.
it warms further at sweetheart, and there's a little burst of affection and love that she feels, looking at him smile at her. kisses and pet names, her favorite...]
That cult's not going to know what hit 'em. Smear on the ground when I'm finished. [she says, with a half-grin. and then - after easing them down into the couch a little further, she asks:]
... What about you, then? What sort of future are you hoping for?
[ he's going to swear up a storm and it'll be so weird to type out actual curse words instead of his clown sounding bs
he answers that burst of happiness and affection with his own—stronger, brighter, colorful. everything here is done—tomorrow, they go back to where they came from, and boothill has the rest of their lives to look forward to. ]
Hot as hellfire, you are. I wouldn't wanna miss a minute of that. Here's hopin' I get to see it all.
[ it's all about timing on his end. if he left his world to travel with the rest of them until the cult business is over with, how much time would he lose? how many of his plans and logistics would fall apart if he wasn't there? he doesn't know the answers to these questions. if it were only a few days...
anyway. he keeps his hand at her cheek, the other sliding over her side. he doesn't even need to consider the answer for long. ]
We make those bastards of ours pay, for one thing. Rid the cosmos of these ash-voles for good, 'n make sure no one worse comes along after 'em. Then I can rest easy.
[ he rests his forehead on hers, his smile creeping wider up his mouth. ]
After that, reckon I want the same as you. Somethin' easy. We get ourselves in trouble if we want, but no more high-tailin' it at every turn. Just some stars to look at, creeks runnin' by, playin' a little tune on a guitar, 'n you right there with me. Not so different than what we saw in those visions of ours, I think.
[ the feelings are calm, steady, content, enamored. he has his head tilted, clearly wanting to kiss but holding back only to mutter between them. ]
[she listens in content, eyes lidded as he moves in closer. it's a little catlike the way she noses at him when he settles his forehead against her own - she can't help it. sitting still is such a hard thing for her to do in general, but after today, this is all she wants. one more night of doing nothing at all before they have to go back to fixing things.
but boothill tells her that he wants what she does, an easier, gentler life, and she sighs, arms wrapped tightly around him.]
You know - Gortash won't be dead, if I go back to Gale's timeline. [a beat.] If you want to be there when we face him again, I want you there.
[just about as much as she wants to be there when he finally gets his revenge on oswaldo schneider, actually. but the rest gets her meet him the rest of the way when he tilts his head - she kisses him, bringing a hand up to rest against the side of his face. it's a slow, sticky sort of thing, affectionate and languid, like she just wants to lazily make out with him for the sake of doing it. like they've got all the time in the world.
and between those kisses, she murmurs against his lips, just for the two of them.]
Mad, right? To think that's in our reach. [another kiss.] Like that night at the beach, every day, for as long as we live.
[a beat. she runs her fingers over the ring she gave him.]
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he lets her guide him closer, though he keeps his hand at her cheek as long as she holds it in place. he's smiling, stroking his thumb over her cheekbone. ]
'Course I would, sweetheart. [ and not just because she said she'd feel the same about him too, metal or flesh or what have you. ] I know you ain't about to lose to some muddle-fudgin' fish-faced cult fudger. You show that son of a nice lady some tough love for me.
no subject
it warms further at sweetheart, and there's a little burst of affection and love that she feels, looking at him smile at her. kisses and pet names, her favorite...]
That cult's not going to know what hit 'em. Smear on the ground when I'm finished. [she says, with a half-grin. and then - after easing them down into the couch a little further, she asks:]
... What about you, then? What sort of future are you hoping for?
no subject
he answers that burst of happiness and affection with his own—stronger, brighter, colorful. everything here is done—tomorrow, they go back to where they came from, and boothill has the rest of their lives to look forward to. ]
Hot as hellfire, you are. I wouldn't wanna miss a minute of that. Here's hopin' I get to see it all.
[ it's all about timing on his end. if he left his world to travel with the rest of them until the cult business is over with, how much time would he lose? how many of his plans and logistics would fall apart if he wasn't there? he doesn't know the answers to these questions. if it were only a few days...
anyway. he keeps his hand at her cheek, the other sliding over her side. he doesn't even need to consider the answer for long. ]
We make those bastards of ours pay, for one thing. Rid the cosmos of these ash-voles for good, 'n make sure no one worse comes along after 'em. Then I can rest easy.
[ he rests his forehead on hers, his smile creeping wider up his mouth. ]
After that, reckon I want the same as you. Somethin' easy. We get ourselves in trouble if we want, but no more high-tailin' it at every turn. Just some stars to look at, creeks runnin' by, playin' a little tune on a guitar, 'n you right there with me. Not so different than what we saw in those visions of ours, I think.
[ the feelings are calm, steady, content, enamored. he has his head tilted, clearly wanting to kiss but holding back only to mutter between them. ]
no subject
but boothill tells her that he wants what she does, an easier, gentler life, and she sighs, arms wrapped tightly around him.]
You know - Gortash won't be dead, if I go back to Gale's timeline. [a beat.] If you want to be there when we face him again, I want you there.
[just about as much as she wants to be there when he finally gets his revenge on oswaldo schneider, actually. but the rest gets her meet him the rest of the way when he tilts his head - she kisses him, bringing a hand up to rest against the side of his face. it's a slow, sticky sort of thing, affectionate and languid, like she just wants to lazily make out with him for the sake of doing it. like they've got all the time in the world.
and between those kisses, she murmurs against his lips, just for the two of them.]
Mad, right? To think that's in our reach. [another kiss.] Like that night at the beach, every day, for as long as we live.
[a beat. she runs her fingers over the ring she gave him.]
And our big party we've got to plan, too.