trashchildren | For Joan

He gives her a soft kiss. "And you take care of yourself, alright?" he says, looking at her almost sternly. He knows it's gonna hurt, but it shouldn't hurt more than it has to.

"I will," she says, because she doesn't want him to worry about her.

She squeezes his hand again, then gets up and steps away, letting their hands part. She wants to climb into bed with him and kiss him and hold him and just be together in each other's arms, just for a little while. But it's probably best just to shut it all down now.

Ted almost lets her go. But no, before she can slip too far away from him to touch, he takes her hands and pulls her in again, giving her one final almost desperate kiss, and then a tight hug. He too wants her to just be with him for a little while, but the least he can do is give her a proper goodbye.

Joan's instinct is to shut down, to go cold, to turn inward. And then Ted pulls her back in and kisses her like that and hugs her so tightly...and those walls she's busy putting up tumble right back down.

Fuck it.

She slips off her shoes and climbs into bed and winds her arms around him and sinks into a kiss. They're not going to see each other in god knows how long, she's going to make the most of the time they do have, dammit.

Ted makes a noise of surprise when she climbs into the bed with, but returns the kiss happily.

"Mmm, ow ow ow," he says into the kiss, as the both of them maybe show a little bit disregard for how hurt he is, but even so he's laughing as he says it. He's so happy and so sad at the same time.

He shifts a bit, let them both rearrange their positions and arms, and then just gets right back to kissing her.

"Sorry!" she says, laughing with him. How it is possible to find such joy when they're surrounded by sorrow Joan doesn't know, but with Ted these things just seem to happen. He makes her so happy, even now.

She carefully maneuvers her body and her limbs so that they don't put too much pressure on Ted's sore spots, then kisses him back, her body gently pressed against his. She touches his cheek tenderly, gently brushing her thumb over his cheekbone, careful not to press on the bruise.

Ted tries not to think about how much he's going to miss her, what a difficult time he has in front of him while recovering, and for her while trying to make sure they're safe. He tries to just sink into the happiness of this moment, of them being together, and loving each other.

And so he doesn't let himself be rushed by knowing their time is limited, just gently touching her and being touched by her. If they weren't in a hospital, he maybe even would've wanted to touch some other places as well, but he's going to put that particular thought into a metaphorical cold shower.

Joan is focusing on him and this moment, on how deeply she loves him and how incredible it feels to be loved in return, and how good it feels to be kissing and touching, however gently. She is tempted to touch in places that are sensitive in a good way, but she refrains, seeing as he's still injured and they're still in a hospital. But god are they going to have the best sex of their lives when she comes back from New York. It's amazing how that thought shifts her perspective on being away, that knowledge that there's something wonderful in store for them if they endure.

"I love you," she whispers between kisses.

"I love you too," he whispers back, and smiles into the kiss. How good it feels to say that to each other. It's solidified this relationship in such an unassailable way, that Ted doesn't have a doubt in his mind that they're going to get through this.

He wraps an arm around Joan's waist, pulling her as close as he can manage, his other hand weaving into her hair as he continues to kiss her lovingly. His split lip hurts a little, but not enough for him to stop.

It feels incredible. And in this moment, Joan feels like their relationship is invincible. Like they can face anything together, and emerge from it just as strong or stronger. It's a completely different feeling than what she had when she walked into this room. Even than a few minutes ago.

He pulls her close, and Joan moans softly into the kiss. She lets her hand wander gently down his back, coming to rest on his ass. As far as she knows, his ass was relatively unscathed, so she gently caresses it as they continue the kiss.

His butt was mostly sat on, so whatever aches it suffered, those have recovered by now.

It is, however, not a place he's used to getting touched casually, without some sort of intent. It definitely makes his mind go certain places.

"You're playing a dangerous game, lady.." he mumbles into the kiss. But he's smiling a little, and he hasn't had the restraint to make her stop.

Joan laughs softly against his lips.

"Maybe," she purrs, still caressing his ass, while also gently pressing her pelvis to his, upping the stakes.

"Want to play?"

See, that's just mean. That's just sneaky exploitation, right there. Does he mind? Maybe not...

He makes a noise of indecision and temptation, wavering for a moment. His willpower is not necessarily the strongest at the moment, eager to just enjoy some happy moments, saving the willpower for later.

He leans over a little and looks at the door. There's no windows or anything like that that lets someone see the bed. And Beard is standing right outside.

"Oh, heck.." he says, giving in. He grabs the call nurse button and moves it out of the way, letting it hang off the side of the bed so he doesn't accidentally press it. And then he starts kissing her again, maybe a touch more intently.

She laughs a little when he gives in, then hums with pleasure as he starts kissing her again. His clothes are a little more difficult to work around than a hospital gown, but she gets started, sliding her hand down the back of his trousers and his underwear to continue caressing the bare skin of his ass. Mean while she begins to move against him, gently grinding her pelvis against his.

While it would be certainly more practical, a hospital gown would just remind him of the strangeness of the situation and make it weirder, so honestly it's for the best. Now he can just pretend they're in some sort of (very sterile) hotel room. And that for some reason they only got a single bed.

He mirrors her movements, his hand moving down to her ass as well, though he keeps his hand on the outside of her clothes as he pulls her closer. He's not going to be able to take quite as a proactive role as he usually enjoys, given there's a limit to how much he can safely move around, but that's alright.

Having been a doctor, Joan spent much of her young adulthood in hospitals. And while she never had sex in a patient's room, she did have a couple dalliances in the breakrooms where the doctors would take naps when they were on call. So the single bed in a hospital isn't entirely out of her frame of reference.

She's been considering how they're going to do this, knowing that Ted is hurt and likely won't be able to be on top, and Joan doesn't want to risk putting pressure on bad spots if she's on top.

"Would you like me to roll over?" she asks. "So we can spoon and you can enter me from behind?"

The question definitely makes him blush a little bit, but it's partly due to arousal. He licks his lips a bit, considering, looking at the space they've got, and what sort of positions he can actually safely be in.

Thing is, while that is enjoyable and it lets him kiss her neck and use his hands to great effect, for one thing it would mean he'd have to be on his side, which could cause problems, and for another - which is actually more present in his mind right - he'd like to actually see her face.

"How about we just use our hands?" he suggests. That way they could still kiss, and look at each other. And while the same would be difficult for him, she could even probably use her mouth, if she wants to, but he's sure she can reach that conclusion for herself.

She had thought about using her mouth, but it seemed like it would be hard to find a comfortable position on such a narrow bed. But she can understand wanting to be face to face, especially now, when they won't be able to see each other for god knows how long.

"We can do hands," she agrees.

She leans in and kisses him slowly, while slipping her hand down the front of his sweats and cupping him through his boxers.

"Mmm, yup," Ted says, muffled into the kiss, as soon as she cups him. It's been less than a week since last time, but it sure feels like longer, with everything they've been through. And while it makes Ted a little nervous doing it here, those nerves are actually working in his favor right now, making him more excited.

It feels like forever. It also feels so much more immediate, being now or never, leaving-on-a-jet-plane sex. Joan tugs down Ted's sweats and then his boxers, just enough to free his cock. She shifts her position and his, making sure he's comfortable on his back as she lies on her side beside him, head propped up and gazing down into his eyes.

She watches his face for all those little hints of pleasure to guide her, and curls her hand around his cock, starting a slow stroke.

Ted is a pretty expressive person, rarely guarding his emotions unless there's a specific reason to. That becomes even truer during sex, which Joan has definitely learned by now. He is by no means difficult to read. And while he's definitely planning on keeping it quiet, his face easily shows his pleasure.

He gasps a little as her thumb slides across the head of his cock, his breathing quickly becoming more labored, and he arches his head up to catch her in a kiss.

She slides her arm under his head so that he doesn't have to strain to kiss her. He's responding well in particular to her thumb against the head of his cock, so she makes sure to use it here and there, just light brushes to tantalize and tease, until his body can't help but writhe with need, silently begging for release.

It's a good thing his knees aren't as bad as they were yesterday, because he can't stop himself from pushing his hips off the bed a little, yearning for more touch. Nor can he stop himself from letting out small moans and noises of pleasure, no matter how hard he tries.

He pulls back from the kiss, tilting his head back to catch his breath a little, and momentarily closes his eyes, but then forces himself to open them again, so he can look at her. He's already almost there.

She loves seeing him like this, the building pleasure taking over his body. She loves how his body is trying so hard to get a little more friction. She loves his sounds, even though (perhaps especially because) he's trying so hard to keep quiet. He's so close she can feel it, can feel the tension, the desire, the need.

"I love you," she whispers, gazing into those desperate eyes, her stroke quickening. "I want to see you come for me."

It's the first time she's said that during sex, and boy if it doesn't intensify everything. Well, the first part, not the second part. The second part has always been particularly effective, the sound of it going straight to his cock.

He bites his lip in a desperate attempt to keep quiet, a whimper escaping even so, gripping the edge of the bed tightly, his neck arching back as the orgasm rolls through him, sudden and intense.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject