slow, long kisses - T, outis/rodion
Rodion’s grin is maddeningly smug as she steps closer, her finger tapping Outis’ chest in a way that feels both insolent and disarming. It's always gotten under her skin that she has to tilt her head up to look at Rodion. "Outie," she drawls, the nickname scraping at Outis' patience. "Why don’t you try slowing down for once? Kisses aren’t a drill to execute—niiice and slow, just like this, babushka."
Before Outis can counter with a sharp remark, stop calling me old woman, you think I don't know what that means?, Rodion’s lips are on hers, soft and unhurried. It’s strange, this deliberate pace; the slow, deep pressure of Rodion’s mouth moving against her own, tongues brushing in a way that feels both exploratory and intimate. It’s nothing like the fast, efficient exchanges Outis is used to: she has no desire at all to actually be tender with her co-workers.
Frustratingly, Rodion reads Outis all too well, at times, probably knows she's itching to pull away, and so she hooks a hand around Outis' collar and, with a mischievous glint in her eye, tugs her down onto the bed. Outis lands half-sprawled over her, startled, her hands instinctively bracing on either side of Rodion’s hips.
"I could have easily crushed you," Outis hisses as Rodion places her fingers underneath her chin, tugging her gaze towards her.
"Babe, relax, would 'ya? It's sooo nice, right?" Rodion teases, her voice a sultry purr. "You’re always so stiff—consider this a lesson in... taking your time, hm?"
Outis, of all people, needs no lessons in 'taking her time'. She has no time, to be doing this with a woman whoisn'tPenelopeisn'tPenelopeisn'therwife but when Rodion leans in, licking across Outis' lower lip, she feels it all at once: Rodion's heat and her scent and the press of her breasts against Outis' arm.
Outis is the one to initiate their kiss, this time, and takes her time exploring every inch. If Rodion is offering, then she won't hesitate to take it all.