( reacting to the music isn't inherently wrong. kimberly's not a trained dancer, not in any of the classical sorts of ways. she's never taken a modern dance class, nor ballet or tap; her movement comes from years of cheerleading, gymnastics, and general appreciation for music. high school dances and nights out with friends have trained her informal techniques more so than anything else.
so when the music plays and the beat begins to thrum in her veins, kimberly takes his hand in hers, pulls herself to him to close that distance, and gently encourages his own motion. the sway of his hips, the rock back and forth, the easy shift of his weight from side to side as they move to the beat; it's close and far, darting in close enough that her breath skims across his skin, only to step out again, never letting go of his hand.
it's temptation, this sort of music. the brass and the drums, the way the tempo rises and falls like breaths in and out, the seductive harmonies in a language kimberly doesn't understand. it calls her closer to him, spins her around when she steps away again, hair splaying out around her with each turn. by the end of the song, she's let her free hand curl around the back of his neck, pulled herself flush against him, a pleased smile at the natural rock of his hips as he moves to the beat. )
[ There's something about dancing that's freeing. Baby's not a trained dancer either, but Joe had a few tricks up his sleeve that he'd taught Baby while growing up - a number of moves and it'd given Baby the knowledge of how to move his hips. The musicality, he'd gotten from his mother, from just loving music so deeply and so incessantly.
So it's easy, to fall into step with Kimberly, to move forwards and back with her hand in his, a smile on his face and his sunglasses slipping off. He lets his feet and the music do the talking, a hand around her waist when it fits, when the music leads them there. It's easy and rhythmical and her body moves in ways that makes Baby want to touch her more. He wants to touch her all over, and he knows it shows in the look in his eyes, as they dance, close, legs tangled up.
By the time the song ends, there's sweat at Baby's brow and it's not because of the dancing so much. He licks his lips as he looks down at Kimberly, a smirk appearing on his features as she speaks.
He finds that he had no words to answer her, so instead he just leans down, no hesitation in the way he lifts her chin with a couple of fingers, kissing her - not too gently, either. At the moment, with the music still thrumming in his bones and her body against his, it's all he can think to do. ]
( kimberly understands this kind of answer just fine. his mouth is warm and sure as it presses against hers in a kiss that's not as timid as she might have expected; no, it's a kiss from someone who wants, but not quite bad enough to take it. she likes that. it's the fine line between assured and cocky, but he straddles it well.
(related thought: she'd like to straddle him well. a little. maybe more than a little.)
his fingertips keep her chin tipped up towards him, not that she needs very much in the way of encouragement, and that hand splayed out over the back of his neck curls in, pulls her into him enough that she's resting on tiptoes to meet him. a soft laugh escapes her in the first exhale as they separate, but the sound is quickly muffled as she closes the gap between them again, rewarding his bravery with returned affection.
kimberly loses track after that. how many times they part and come back together, how many soft exhales punctuate the lingering sweetness that seems to define the moment. but it isn't the numbers that matter. when they finally part long enough for her to drop back down to the ground, she's smiling, soft and pleased — that's what matters. )
[ For a time, he doesn't want to move, ever again. For a time, everything feels right and in place and he belongs and there are no police sirens, no gunshots still ringing in his ears, no criminals out for vengeance, nobody he's risking the life of. It's just a guy and a girl, kissing at the edge of a new world he's yet got to explore. He smiles against her lips, pulls her up against his body, keeps her right close and amused as his blood sings in his veins, alive, alive, alive.
When they finally do pull away for more than half a second, he breathes out through his mouth, long and slow, before pressing a chuckle against her forehead. ]
Should I be driving you back to civilization?
[ He might not want to right now, but he's not naive, despite his name. He knows this is a moment that isn't destined to last forever. Just like a good drift, everything has to come to an end. ]
( should he? maybe. there's something about the peace and quiet, the warmth of his body so snug against her own, the seemingly endless time stretched out before them, that tells kimberly this peaceful moment could escalate very quickly. it wouldn't take much, she knows that. that long exhale speaks volumes.
but she doesn't want to rush things with him. she wants to enjoy this ride for what it's worth, take each turn one by one. so, even though all her senses tell her to continue, kimberly pumps the metaphorical brakes for once, and lets her hand drop from his neck down to the fabric of his shirt, smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles across his chest. )
Maybe. ( but, so as not to make him think this is the one and only opportunity for such an encounter... ) We can do this again, though, right?
[ Relief loosens his muscles when Kimberly asks for them to do this again; he hadn't realised how much he wanted her to say something exactly like that. If his nod is eager, he doesn't really blame himself - he's just glad to have met someone he clicks with so quickly, and he doesn't plan on not getting to see her again. ]
Yeah. Yeah, please.
[ There's a part of him that really, really wants to stay here. Pick her up, sit her against the hood of the Challenger, get on his knees for her. He wants to stay right here and show her that he's not just his name, but a lot more too. But he's also a gentleman and he was raised right and he'll do better by her than just attempt to just her the second he thinks there's an opening. ]
( that little please, emphasized over a rush of hot air, tugs at something in her chest, flicks her eyes back up to his to catch the intensity of his gaze as he peers down at her. she knows that look. that wanting, desire that you're pushing down, a struggle to balance what's the right thing and what you want.
if baby were anybody else, she'd tip the board in favor of what felt good. immediate gratification wasn't something she was particular used to ignoring. but she's trying to make this work without rushing things. to enjoy the sweetness as it builds towards something else.
[ He's no chef, but he's used to cooking for Joe. And he's pretty sure he can make something romantic out of that tiny apartment he was given; just buy some flowers and candles and nice wine. He can make this work.
He keeps her hand in his as he leads her back to the car, a cheeky smile on his lips as he opens the passenger door for her. ]
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( reacting to the music isn't inherently wrong. kimberly's not a trained dancer, not in any of the classical sorts of ways. she's never taken a modern dance class, nor ballet or tap; her movement comes from years of cheerleading, gymnastics, and general appreciation for music. high school dances and nights out with friends have trained her informal techniques more so than anything else.
so when the music plays and the beat begins to thrum in her veins, kimberly takes his hand in hers, pulls herself to him to close that distance, and gently encourages his own motion. the sway of his hips, the rock back and forth, the easy shift of his weight from side to side as they move to the beat; it's close and far, darting in close enough that her breath skims across his skin, only to step out again, never letting go of his hand.
it's temptation, this sort of music. the brass and the drums, the way the tempo rises and falls like breaths in and out, the seductive harmonies in a language kimberly doesn't understand. it calls her closer to him, spins her around when she steps away again, hair splaying out around her with each turn. by the end of the song, she's let her free hand curl around the back of his neck, pulled herself flush against him, a pleased smile at the natural rock of his hips as he moves to the beat. )
I told you you could dance, baby.
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So it's easy, to fall into step with Kimberly, to move forwards and back with her hand in his, a smile on his face and his sunglasses slipping off. He lets his feet and the music do the talking, a hand around her waist when it fits, when the music leads them there. It's easy and rhythmical and her body moves in ways that makes Baby want to touch her more. He wants to touch her all over, and he knows it shows in the look in his eyes, as they dance, close, legs tangled up.
By the time the song ends, there's sweat at Baby's brow and it's not because of the dancing so much. He licks his lips as he looks down at Kimberly, a smirk appearing on his features as she speaks.
He finds that he had no words to answer her, so instead he just leans down, no hesitation in the way he lifts her chin with a couple of fingers, kissing her - not too gently, either. At the moment, with the music still thrumming in his bones and her body against his, it's all he can think to do. ]
no subject
(related thought: she'd like to straddle him well. a little. maybe more than a little.)
his fingertips keep her chin tipped up towards him, not that she needs very much in the way of encouragement, and that hand splayed out over the back of his neck curls in, pulls her into him enough that she's resting on tiptoes to meet him. a soft laugh escapes her in the first exhale as they separate, but the sound is quickly muffled as she closes the gap between them again, rewarding his bravery with returned affection.
kimberly loses track after that. how many times they part and come back together, how many soft exhales punctuate the lingering sweetness that seems to define the moment. but it isn't the numbers that matter. when they finally part long enough for her to drop back down to the ground, she's smiling, soft and pleased — that's what matters. )
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When they finally do pull away for more than half a second, he breathes out through his mouth, long and slow, before pressing a chuckle against her forehead. ]
Should I be driving you back to civilization?
[ He might not want to right now, but he's not naive, despite his name. He knows this is a moment that isn't destined to last forever. Just like a good drift, everything has to come to an end. ]
no subject
but she doesn't want to rush things with him. she wants to enjoy this ride for what it's worth, take each turn one by one. so, even though all her senses tell her to continue, kimberly pumps the metaphorical brakes for once, and lets her hand drop from his neck down to the fabric of his shirt, smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles across his chest. )
Maybe. ( but, so as not to make him think this is the one and only opportunity for such an encounter... ) We can do this again, though, right?
no subject
Yeah. Yeah, please.
[ There's a part of him that really, really wants to stay here. Pick her up, sit her against the hood of the Challenger, get on his knees for her. He wants to stay right here and show her that he's not just his name, but a lot more too. But he's also a gentleman and he was raised right and he'll do better by her than just attempt to just her the second he thinks there's an opening. ]
I could. Cook you dinner?
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if baby were anybody else, she'd tip the board in favor of what felt good. immediate gratification wasn't something she was particular used to ignoring. but she's trying to make this work without rushing things. to enjoy the sweetness as it builds towards something else.
they're not there yet, even if she wants to be. )
I'd really like that.
no subject
[ He's no chef, but he's used to cooking for Joe. And he's pretty sure he can make something romantic out of that tiny apartment he was given; just buy some flowers and candles and nice wine. He can make this work.
He keeps her hand in his as he leads her back to the car, a cheeky smile on his lips as he opens the passenger door for her. ]
Or do you want to try driving now?