[Up creep those eyebrows. She may want? Hmm, hmm, is that a challenge? He'll have to do better, if so. He twines their fingers together without any hesitation, not this time around, and mirrors that grin, bright even under the shadow from the hat's brim. Will's less of a leader when the train doors open, tugs her along with the intention of walking side-by-side. Equals, in crime and love and everything in between.
(One day soon, Will may look back at this and consider it the last time he was truly happy.)]
All is vell now you are here. [The bad accent is difficult to keep up, if only because he really means it and wants her to know. Still, she must already. She's here and stuck with him and they're married, she knows Will worships at her church above all others. By choice, at least. He takes a moment to look around, realize there's barely anyone on the train, and then goes ahead with the plan that could never have been put into action this time last year.] We should share seat?
[Because there's SO LITTLE ROOM TO SPARE clearly.]
[So few people, yet still so many side glances. The poised Russian facade cannot hold as April joins will in the far to gleeful to be a real spy smile club. While, of course, guiding him by hand over to a seat with every intention of straddling him once he'd made himself comfortable. Maybe what he had had in mind, maybe not. But if this was going to lead to that magical question she's been waiting to hear (while on a train) in this relationship, she wants to be prepared. ]
[He had not really had anything in mind when it came to their seat sharing, other than that it was something to happen. As long as they were close and joined at the lips, it really didn't matter. Having April straddle his lap or straddling April's lap was truly no more obscene than if she simply sat on his and they made sweet sweet tongue music like some romance book cover. He doesn't pay anyone else any attention, giving her a grin and gracelessly plopping down without a care in the world. He tilts his head back against the window, hat askew (if she lets it stay and get worse or tosses it to the ether, he does not give a single shit), fingers tighter around hers than they need to be, and closes his legs so she has all the room in the world she could need to stake her claim.]
Your vish is my command, yes.
[...the accent is dying a miserable, slow, tortured thing (he almost says fish, for God's sake) but Will doesn't seem to care too much. He doubts April cares (and not because of her apathetic qualities), either, lifting his other hand just enough to help her take her throne and act as a barrier against—no, no, he just wants to have his hands on her, end of story.]
[ His accent could suddenly turn Canadian and she wouldn't notice just then. There were clearly more important things to focus on than spying, and if April is only getting train make outs once a year she's making the most of it. The police and public decency charges might get involved if Will lets them stay on the train too long.
As it is, there's a sigh from somewhere else in the train- do no imPorts have impulse control?- but it just makes April grin more are Will's hat is unapologetically shoved to the ground while she gets her hands in his hair. ]
[The sigh is ignored. There are so much worse things imPorts have done in regards to self-restraint, really, April and Will should be considered positive role models here and now. No one is going to come to mental or physical harm, nothing is going to be blown up, no one is going to lose money, no one is going to die. They're the best sort of imPorts to be on a train with anyone could ask for, that sighing fuck needs to recognize.
But Will recognizes something much more important as he also ignores his hat being pushed aside and the shushing. He's more than fine with his hair being ruined further, glancing up at April with the look of a man who'd do literally anything she asked...that wasn't shushing. Not just yet.]
Every time I look at you, all I can think is I'm the luckiest person here. Did you know that?
[Quiet so only she can hear him, all accents gone. Game lasted long enough, didn't it?]
[ She presses her forehead against his, scoffing just a little bit. Romantic police empathy monster. That was what she'd taken home, and she can only grin at the cold facts of it. They were both stuck in this mess, and it was exactly where they wanted to be. ]
Mmhm. No point ignoring the truth.
[ Hold on tight, NPC natives. This is going to be a sappy ride. ]
[Very romantic, goes down with the ship while wrecking it...anyway.
The whole I'd kill for you and worship at your feet for the chance to do so look flattens at the question. A mask of near neutrality staring her back, mulling over the idea of anything so criminal. Of the implications. Of how April's just being herself, he shouldn't let it sour anything.]
You are, though I'd prefer the term abducted. The whole evening's been planned without your say so, including the end where I take you back to my room for a slew of immoral experimentation.
[His hands settle on her hips, fingers loose. Flexible restrictions with Will Graham, tilting his head so his lips almost touch hers.]
I hope that doesn't distress you.
[Really, he's just returning the favor April extended to him roughly a year ago. This for that rides again.]
[ If there is distress, it's hard to find under the grin and her sudden return to that whole making out plan. She could put up a mock struggle and scream and yell for the fun of it...but not this early in. While dodging the cops for real would be fun, that might be better as a different date night. One she arranges.
Abby owed her a pick-up from jail, after all. What better way to have fun and prank the step-minion than making her bail out the parents for their latest sexcapade?
Still. Kidnapped versus abducted. In a brief pause where she has to come up for air she can't help but mutter a rebuttal.]
[Will is so down for this whole making out plan. In fact, he reacts quite like a man who hasn't been touched in months, not like a man who had a little something something just this morning. That almost too-eager enthusiasm as though April's the only person in this world he wants, he could eat her alive and still never be satisfied, never get enough of her. These imPorts are obscene in a different way, but so what? There are rings on their fingers, this is a display of pure monogamy, gosh!
Right down to the part when April comes up for air and Will gives her one of those quiet, pathetic groans to suggest her idea is terrible. He's being starved here, why does she have to go and breathe like that? Ugh. But his totally deprived and pitiful face turns far more devious when she gets her rebuttal in. Are they going to play it like this? Fine. Good with Will.]
If you don't want me making semantics sexy... [He licks his lips, shaking his head. For shame.] ...better put me in a position where I can't talk at all.
[Or he can do that himself, that's also a thing he can do. They aren't underwater and he lost that ability a while back, but he is going up to bat with this whole "suck face in public until breathing is an absolute necessity"...and if his hands have traveled down past the semi-suitable place at her hips, who can blame him?]
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2015-09-12 10:18 pm (UTC)(One day soon, Will may look back at this and consider it the last time he was truly happy.)]
All is vell now you are here. [The bad accent is difficult to keep up, if only because he really means it and wants her to know. Still, she must already. She's here and stuck with him and they're married, she knows Will worships at her church above all others. By choice, at least. He takes a moment to look around, realize there's barely anyone on the train, and then goes ahead with the plan that could never have been put into action this time last year.] We should share seat?
[Because there's SO LITTLE ROOM TO SPARE clearly.]
no subject
Date: 2015-09-13 09:38 pm (UTC)[So few people, yet still so many side glances. The poised Russian facade cannot hold as April joins will in the far to gleeful to be a real spy smile club. While, of course, guiding him by hand over to a seat with every intention of straddling him once he'd made himself comfortable. Maybe what he had had in mind, maybe not. But if this was going to lead to that magical question she's been waiting to hear (while on a train) in this relationship, she wants to be prepared. ]
Make with the sitting now, yes?
no subject
Date: 2015-09-14 02:01 am (UTC)Your vish is my command, yes.
[...the accent is dying a miserable, slow, tortured thing (he almost says fish, for God's sake) but Will doesn't seem to care too much. He doubts April cares (and not because of her apathetic qualities), either, lifting his other hand just enough to help her take her throne and act as a barrier against—no, no, he just wants to have his hands on her, end of story.]
no subject
Date: 2015-09-21 10:11 pm (UTC)As it is, there's a sigh from somewhere else in the train- do no imPorts have impulse control?- but it just makes April grin more are Will's hat is unapologetically shoved to the ground while she gets her hands in his hair. ]
Shh.
no subject
Date: 2015-09-23 01:12 am (UTC)But Will recognizes something much more important as he also ignores his hat being pushed aside and the shushing. He's more than fine with his hair being ruined further, glancing up at April with the look of a man who'd do literally anything she asked...that wasn't shushing. Not just yet.]
Every time I look at you, all I can think is I'm the luckiest person here. Did you know that?
[Quiet so only she can hear him, all accents gone. Game lasted long enough, didn't it?]
no subject
Date: 2015-10-02 11:58 pm (UTC)Mmhm. No point ignoring the truth.
[ Hold on tight, NPC natives. This is going to be a sappy ride. ]
So. Am I being kidnapped?
no subject
Date: 2015-10-03 01:25 am (UTC)The whole I'd kill for you and worship at your feet for the chance to do so look flattens at the question. A mask of near neutrality staring her back, mulling over the idea of anything so criminal. Of the implications. Of how April's just being herself, he shouldn't let it sour anything.]
You are, though I'd prefer the term abducted. The whole evening's been planned without your say so, including the end where I take you back to my room for a slew of immoral experimentation.
[His hands settle on her hips, fingers loose. Flexible restrictions with Will Graham, tilting his head so his lips almost touch hers.]
I hope that doesn't distress you.
[Really, he's just returning the favor April extended to him roughly a year ago. This for that rides again.]
no subject
Date: 2015-10-09 10:06 pm (UTC)[ If there is distress, it's hard to find under the grin and her sudden return to that whole making out plan. She could put up a mock struggle and scream and yell for the fun of it...but not this early in. While dodging the cops for real would be fun, that might be better as a different date night. One she arranges.
Abby owed her a pick-up from jail, after all. What better way to have fun and prank the step-minion than making her bail out the parents for their latest sexcapade?
Still. Kidnapped versus abducted. In a brief pause where she has to come up for air she can't help but mutter a rebuttal.]
Don't try to make semantics sexy.
no subject
Date: 2015-10-09 10:25 pm (UTC)Right down to the part when April comes up for air and Will gives her one of those quiet, pathetic groans to suggest her idea is terrible. He's being starved here, why does she have to go and breathe like that? Ugh. But his totally deprived and pitiful face turns far more devious when she gets her rebuttal in. Are they going to play it like this? Fine. Good with Will.]
If you don't want me making semantics sexy... [He licks his lips, shaking his head. For shame.] ...better put me in a position where I can't talk at all.
[Or he can do that himself, that's also a thing he can do. They aren't underwater and he lost that ability a while back, but he is going up to bat with this whole "suck face in public until breathing is an absolute necessity"...and if his hands have traveled down past the semi-suitable place at her hips, who can blame him?]