Andy hums a noise of protest into his throat, on the fast track towards nonverbal, but she moves (McNally's a girl who knows go means go, thank god). Standing, she looks sweetly sleepy, all mussed hair and slitted eyes. She blinks, keeps them closed half a beat too long.
All of a sudden she's making a face; Sam looks where she's looking and yeah, her thighs are, uh. Messy. McNally drags a finger through, wipes it off against his shoulder. "Gross."
Sam rolls his eyes. "Thanks so much." And sarcasm, sure, but he doesn't exactly mind, is the thing (he's eye-level for about two seconds before he pushes himself creakily to his feet, and he has this split-second image of just, like, licking it off her, which--yeah). His head's in weird place. He pulls a clean dishcloth out of the bottom drawer instead, runs it under the warm water. Andy leans into him as he wipes them both off.
"At least we don't have to get up," she murmurs, eyes closed. Sam--yeah. It's time for the get-her-in-bed-and-sleep-for-a-week part of the plan.
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HALF IN LOVE WITH HER, GOD, THIS IS MAYBE MY FAVOURITE ONE WE'VE WRITTEN
Date: 2011-09-20 03:49 pm (UTC)All of a sudden she's making a face; Sam looks where she's looking and yeah, her thighs are, uh. Messy. McNally drags a finger through, wipes it off against his shoulder. "Gross."
Sam rolls his eyes. "Thanks so much." And sarcasm, sure, but he doesn't exactly mind, is the thing (he's eye-level for about two seconds before he pushes himself creakily to his feet, and he has this split-second image of just, like, licking it off her, which--yeah). His head's in weird place. He pulls a clean dishcloth out of the bottom drawer instead, runs it under the warm water. Andy leans into him as he wipes them both off.
"At least we don't have to get up," she murmurs, eyes closed. Sam--yeah. It's time for the get-her-in-bed-and-sleep-for-a-week part of the plan.