this is how she makes me feel...

[everymonstrousthing]

It's a pattern that they've fallen into, since that night she'd slipped into his lap, touched his shoulders so gently. In Ketterdam, they'd got used to existing in each other's space, in and out of each other's rooms, eating together, talking mostly to each other. This is a natural continuance of that, Kaz supposes, only now feelings are out in the open, vulnerable to the air. Now they both know exactly what they're doing.

So it's different, incredibly so, but it feels familiar all the same.

Without really discussing it, it's Inej's apartment that they spend all of their time together in. Kaz has started stripping off his gloves as soon as he comes through the door. He deliberately leaves his tailoring in his own apartment, coming to her in softer layers, his sleeves pushed up to his elbows, until they go to bed and he pulls his sleeves down over his hands so that he can drape an arm over her in lieu of actually being able to pull her close. It's small, but it's progress. They cook together, eat together, are learning to watch television together - Kaz finds that he enjoys films, dislikes programmes because they're short and, often, seem pointless. They sit relatively close together on the couch and, every so often, Inej touches him. Usually, those touches are over clothes - a brush of fingers against his bicep, his thigh, his chest. She touches the backs of her fingers lightly against his cheek. On her way to the kitchen, she ruffles his fingers through his hair. She keeps the touches light, casual, but Kaz knows what she's doing and he keeps a mental record of those casual touches. He catalogues every one.

He comes back from the kitchen chill from sitting perched on the window to smoke a cigarette, a pair of beers in hand. He offers her one before he slides back onto the middle seat of the sofa, as close to her as he can be without touching her.

"What are we watching, Wraith?" he asks, a light note of teasing in his rough voice.

Comments

[the_wraith]

It's amazing how easily they've fallen back into their grooves. Much of their days is spent exactly how they spent it back home, her taking up space while he reads and ponders. Now it's her apartment, not his. Now there's no gang, no responsibility, no requirement to do jobs at a steady pace that keeps Kaz looking thinking scheming. He still looks and she's sure he's still scheming, but she goes out at night without a set target and comes back far earlier than she would in the Barrel, crawls in through the open window rather than the front door and they go to bed together.

It's nice. It's not perfect. It's not the lack of sex that niggles at her, though there are moments. Kaz Brekker stepping out of a shower is not something Inej has built up any immunity to, yet. But she's not strong enough to roll over in the early dawn-lit mornings and see his face, completely relaxed and innocent in sleep, hair ruffled, and not want to kiss him. His forehead, his nose. It's the moments where she's having trouble with a muscle in her back and she knows he wants to massage it for her, but it doesn't work so well with a cloth barrier. It's the moments where she wants to hold his hand through a scene in a movie and they're both silently counting down the seconds of contact before it becomes too much. It's the moments where she has to check his face after every light touch, to see how well it's gone over (or not). It's those moments that break the facade of domestic bliss.

It's okay, though. It's not perfect. But nothing is. And this is progress.

She takes the bottle and carefully angles her body so she's leaning toward him without touching, like they're cuddling on the couch but not, and fiddles with the remote control.

"Filmfix suggests Ocean's Twelve," she says, smirking. They equal parts hate and love these heist movies, these stories that glorify brilliant, hidden-heart-of-gold criminals like them. They're fun and easy to get lost in, but also frustrating because it's never that simple and they're not actually doing them. "But there's this one called Roman Holiday with that Audrey Hepburn actress."

[everymonstrousthing]

"I liked her in that other movie," he says, settling onto the sofa next to her with his beer between his knees. As always, as ever, he's intensely aware of where she places herself, of the radiating warmth of her body next to his. They've been watching a lot of movies recently, deciding which ones they like, which ones they don't. He can only imagine that there's a connection between Ocean's Eleven and Ocean's Twelve and he likes the one, but he's not sure he's in the mood for the other and, right now, he just wants to watch something calm and quiet with his lovely girl beside him.

Because this is the life they've somehow made, and he wants to hold onto that, as much as he can.

"Let's go with her," he says. He reaches out, almost touches her but, in the end, leaves his hand curled on the sofa almost, but not quite resting on her thigh.

[the_wraith]

The movies are nice, a strange kind of magical luxury they didn't have in the Barrel. All the dreaming you did there had to be on your own, in your own head, with the sober knowledge that you would never achieve the great heights you could imagine. A movie theater in the Barrel would have been rolling in profit for the same reason the casinos and brothels did so well. The trade in fantasy and escape was strong. But here, Inej likes them because, for all she can see that they're stylized and fake, they also show the parts of this world that she and Kaz don't know. Not that they're slices of Darrow life, but things like cars and elevators and mobile phones. Seeing those on the screen, on their television screen, makes them easier to handle in real life. They feel less like idiots staring at the most basic things.

"She's a princess," Inej announces, picking up what she thinks of as the only important part of the summary blurb to share with him. She selects the movie, gets it going, then sets the remote control aside so she can enjoy her beer. That's another pretty nice thing about Darrow.

[everymonstrousthing]

"A princess. Right."

Princesses weren't something that they had in the Barrel except, maybe, in houses like Helleen's, where you could pay a handful of coin to stick your hand up a silk dress. Kaz had never spent money on those sort of things; not just because of the idea of the skin touching his but because, for years now, he'd only had eyes for one girl. He takes a swallow one his own beer, leaning his head against the back of the sofa. For a moment, he isn't paying attention to the movie at all. He gets sidetracked watching her. He's making watching her into an art form, now he doesn't have to do it out of the corner of his eye. She's being careful around him, he knows that. She's seen a lot more of him that he has of her, but not being bashful or coy in front of her? That's one thing he can manage for her.

He wants that, desperately. To give her everything he is.

[the_wraith]

She lets the movie start, with its strangely comforting music playing over the credits, and tries to pretend as though she doesn't know he's watching her. He's always been able to see her, after the first time they met. She knows he always sees her. But now she knows some of what he sees when he looks at her. She knows that hope she had, that he saw something beautiful when he looked at her, isn't as stupid as she once thought it was. She likes to allow herself these moments of knowing she's genuinely being admired.

It's not long however until she's gotten herself wrapped up in the movie. Not completely, but she's following the story, laughing where she's supposed to laugh at the jokes she understands. She's aware of him sitting next to her and how long they've been sitting next to each other and the timer she's set herself on. How long she lets Kaz go without some kind of casual touch.

He's got his hand near her thigh, just resting there, but rather than go for that, she brushes her fingers against the inside of his elbow, moving her hand to a space next to his.

[everymonstrousthing]

One minute he's watching the movie and the next time she's touching him and his entire body jolts at the touch, laughter bubbling out of him, and his eyes widen and he pushes away from her, both eyebrows raised, barely managing to catch his beer as he moves convulsively.

"What the fuck was that?" he asks her, still laughing.

[the_wraith]

She isn't easily surprised, but that gets her. She's more used to touching Kaz than she is to hearing him laugh, that suddenly and startled.

Inej stares at him, just as surprised as he is, eyebrows up. She holds herself still rather than pull away, too.

"I... don't know?" she manages. "What's wrong?"

[everymonstrousthing]

"That tickled," says Kaz, dragging the name for the sensation out of a long ago memory of being a child, squirming when Jordie poked at him. He runs the inside of his elbow absently. "Apparently, I'm ticklish there." He shrugs, moves closer again. "It's...I'm not used to the touching."

[the_wraith]

"You're ticklish?" Her brows arch even higher, if possible.

Dirtyhands is ticklish. With all that she's seen and done in the last month, that still surprises her.

A slow, devious smile begins to curve her lips.

[everymonstrousthing]

"Apparently," he says and he knows that look on his face, knows what she does when she's got that look in her eye. He throws up his hands in surrender; she's the only person in the world he'd do that for. N

"Inej, don't," he says.

[the_wraith]

"Don't?" she echoes. But she's a spring, already wound tight and ready to be let loose. She's shifted on the couch so she faces him better, her hands open and ready.

"You can beg better than that, Kaz."

[everymonstrousthing]

She ought to know better that that - Kaz Brekker, the bastard of the Barrel, Dirtyhands - he doesn't beg because he doesn't have to. Because he's last the point of needing to do every monstrous thing. He knows that Inej knows that, that she knows exactly what he's capable of.

But he also knows that she knows that, maybe, she'd be the only one he would beg. M

But not for this.

"Fuck it," he says, grinning despite himself. "C'mon and have a go if you think you're hard enough, Wraith."

[the_wraith]

"It's not about hard, Kaz." But he's smiling at her, and with a breath her heart is floating, light and free in her chest. There's a bewildering, stunning moment when she can see them from outside themselves, that they're here, in this moment. But she lets it pass and dives for him.

It's not as if Inej is unfamiliar with taking down men twice her size. She doesn't even need a knife. She fires herself right at his chest, planning on pushing him back and straddling him before the tickling even begins.

[everymonstrousthing]

He could fend her off; his reflexes are quick enough and, besides, he knows her as well as he knows himself, more than well enough to anticipate what move she might make. He finds himself unwilling though and, soon enough, he's on his back on the sofa with her straddling him. He holds up his hands in surrender, almost reaching to wrap his hands around her wrists but restraining himself. Every fibre of his body is aware of her weight on top of him. It's intensely distracting. He looks up at her and his breath catches. There's no way that he can hide that from her.

[the_wraith]

Nina said once, what feels like forever ago, that Kaz's breath caught every time he saw Inej. Inej hadn't believed her at the time, didn't want to give herself the hope of believing. But now she hears it, she practically feels it, the sharp pull of muscles in his chest contracting as he breathes in. She chooses to ignore it now, not because she doesn't want to believe, to know it's there, but because it's too much in the moment to acknowledge. She wants the simplicity of the moment.

Grinning, she dives a hand down to find the sensitive spot on the inside of his elbow, wiggling her fingers across his skin.

[everymonstrousthing]

Squirming, laughing, he does his best to fend her off with the heels of his hands, as much as he can do without wrapping his hands around her wrists and holding her. There's more that one reason why he would never do a thing like that to Inej (not, says a treacherous voice in the back of his head, one that makes immediate colour rise i his cheeks, unless she asks you to).

"Inej, stop," he says, doing his best to defend his elbows, which only leaves his ribs open to attack.

[the_wraith]

Unsatisfied with this, Inej continues on mercilessly, her laughter escaping her as no more than breathy exhales. She pushes aside his elbows with her own and wiggles closer to his core, sure of the protection of layers of cloth. The hem of his shirt is caught under one of her knees, pulling the fabric tight over his stomach, but keeping it in place. She tries his ribs, squeezing at one spot above his hip that always makes her cry out.

"Not good enough, Kaz!"

[everymonstrousthing]

"Inej please," he says, squirming though, crucially, not enough to actually dislodge her. He tugs his sleeves down over his hands and wraps his arms around her, trying to keep her in one place, stop her hands. His own laughter comes hysterically, bubbling out of him, higher than his speaking voice. She's got sharp, clever fingers, though, and he can't stay away from her. "Please."

[the_wraith]

She lets out a little cry, something laughing and only playing at anger and disappointment, when he pulls her in tighter. She's been in tighter spots, slipped through smaller squeezes, but those she wanted to escape. For him, she stops. She stills her questing fingers and lays her hand, warm and flat, against his side, atop the shirt.

She laughs and grins down at him. Her braid falls from over her shoulder onto his.

"Only because you asked nicely."

[everymonstrousthing]

Between nights in the same bed, sharing the sofa, existing in the same space, he's getting used to this - this closeness, these touches. Her weight on top of him is still distracting, though. He swallows, looking up at her, and then he smiles. His arms overlap across her back, one hand against her ribs, the other against her hip. She fits perfectly into his arms.

"I didn't know that was something you liked," he teases.

[the_wraith]

"Everyone likes politeness, Kaz," she teases right back.

She's trapped, but she doesn't feel like it. She feels warm and safe, the rapid beat of Kaz's heart a thing she can feel where their chests meet. It doesn't seem to be slowing down.

"A girl likes her man to ask nicely." She's his and he's hers, it's been that way for a little while now. (A long while, in truth.) But the words still catch in her throat on their way out.

[everymonstrousthing]

They haven't done this. They've been getting closer and closer and what they are, they both know, but they haven't done this, not exactly, not pressed chest to chest, his arms wrapped around her, so close that he can feel the warmth of her breath against his cheek. That's what he focuses on - how warm she is. He focuses on that. He focuses on her.

"What else does a girl like?" he asks her, dark eyes fixed on her face.

[the_wraith]

She doesn't know what she's doing. She doesn't know Kaz's true boundaries yet, doesn't know when pushing into his comfort zone is too much pushing. But it's more than that. She's never done this before, been with someone before. Someone who sees her and knows her and respects her. Who wants her for more than a night and for more than the color of her skin.

"For her man to kiss her," she breathes, feeling scared. Somehow. She shouldn't. It's Kaz. The worst that could happen, if he kisses her, has already happened. But if feels like, maybe, perhaps, too much to ask, for her and for him.

[everymonstrousthing]

He decided, a few weeks ago, that Valentine's day didn't count. That kiss? It wasn't a mark on any ledger that counted. Because, God, he wanted to kiss her. He spent idle moments imagining kissing her. He ached for her it. Her face is only a couple of inches above his. He hesitates, for a moment, his eyes darting over her face, from her eyes to her mouth and back. He swallows and then he leans up, closing the space between them and grazes his mouth against hers.

It's barely a kiss, wouldn't count for anyone else, but Inej knows him well enough to recognise it for the start that it is.

[the_wraith]

She doesn't lean in. It would be too easy, if she were to allow herself, to lean in and press the kiss, ask for more and unknowingly take too much. She's light, a tiny thing compared to him, but she's still the one on top. But she does shut her eyes and return the kiss, soft and slow, her lips moving gently against his.

"Alright?" she breathes the second they part. She doesn't want to be too wary, too careful, but it's hard not to be.