16) the classic “oh, let me help you put some sunscreen on” but then the little massage turns into something more (Thalia/Thancred)
Le spice is under le cut
“Born and raised Ul’dahn. You really ought to have known better.”
Thalia’s response to Thancred’s teasing was to glare at him over her shoulder. A fair reaction, given her irritated, sunburnt skin he was applying salve to. The small pile of rubble that could barely pass for a house made for a poor infirmary, but the sun was setting, and Thancred thought it better to make camp so he could take the time to properly see to her. Her shoulders and legs got the worst of it with red blotches spreading across her skin, uncovered as they were with her choice of attire in a white vest, brown shorts and a pair of boots. And really, if it stood out that much against her darker complexion, than surely it was bad enough for her to notice.
“I had a lot on my mind”, she said, as if reading his, but then he realized she was simply retorting to his earlier barb.
He wanted to respond, to keep up their banter (something about how heroes who liberate nations don’t have time to fuss over something as trivial as a sunburn), but then he noticed the way she slouched over, nearly curling in on herself, hugging her vest that she removed to make it easier to cover her shoulders with the salve. She stared blankly ahead, seeming a thousand miles away.
Of course. He wouldn’t have been surprised if she was running on fumes these past couple of weeks. Ala Mhigo was free. It was over, they had won, yet Thancred couldn’t blame her for not feeling comfortable in their victory. Who among the Scions would, after what they endured at the Waking Sands, or the Banquet? And really, who was he to judge her for running hither and yon, taking on every task that needed seeing to, even if it meant negligence to herself?
Thancred changed tact then, still rubbing in the ointment, but this time seeking the stiff muscles in her shoulders and applying deliberate, firm pressure. He could feel her stiffen, but something loosened under his fingertips, and she practically deflated, shoulders drooping with a relieved sigh.
That’s it, he thought, feeling more pleased than he ought to have been. This was dangerous territory. He had resigned himself to keeping her at arm’s length after the Praetorium, that sentiment cemented after everything they had been through in Ishgard. But those troubles seemed far and distant, when her skin was warm and soft under his hands, small appreciative sounds coming from her at each unwound knot.
He had realized his mistake too late when he pressed the heel of his hand to a particularly stubborn spot in her lower back, and the sound she made when the muscle loosened, a long high and needy whine, shot straight down his spine.
Thalia froze once she realized what she had done, clamping her mouth shut with a tight press of her lips, squeezing her vest to her otherwise bare chest even harder. Thancred knew she’d dare not risk looking at him now, but he had no doubt the expression on her face was horrified.
“That….” she stammered, wound tight as if ready to bolt from him, “That was…..”
A squeeze to her shoulders stopped whatever ramble was on her lips, and this time she did look at him, peering at him over her shoulder with such vulnerability and uncertainty that Thancred knew his decision was made.
Truly, there was never any choice to begin with, was there?
“You said you had a lot on your mind”, he spoke, low and clear for her ears alone, “There are things that can help…..distract you.”
He let his words linger there, hands remaining on her shoulders as he awaited her answer.
She held his eyes. A beat passed. Then another. Then, slowly, she lowered her arms and let her white vest drop to the dirt.
—————————————————————————
This was dangerous territory.
It was hard for Thancred to keep that mantra at the forefront of his mind, with Thalia panting in his ear as one of his hands palmed her breast, the other between her thighs and working furiously into her cunt.
It was hard to keep any thoughts in his mind at all, not while she clenched around his fingers, so tight and wet and warm. Nor with the way her hands were everywhere, fisted into his hair or desperately gripping the muscles of his back, made bare when he quickly threw down his vest for a poor excuse of a blanket for her to lie on.
And then she gripped his hand, the one between her legs, and pressed against him harder, canted her hips higher as she begged him for more, Thancred, please more I need it gods please-
All logic and good sense fled his mind.
His other hand abandoned her bare breast to bury itself into her blue curls, pulling her mouth to his to catch her wail as he worked her with a newfound frenzy, twisting and curling to hit that one spot as she scrabbled at the planes of his back, nails biting into his skin as her body shook and trembled in the throes of her orgasm.
He held her as she came down, easing his fingers into gentle strokes as her trembling subsided. By the gods, she was a vision, her skin made dewy with sweat, practically glowing where the moonlight shown on her warm brown skin.
“Fuck”, he groaned, withdrawing his hand entirely and shifting to move between her legs.
That got Thalia’s attention, but she wasn’t given enough time to inquire about what he was doing, as in a matter of seconds, he had settled on his belly, pulled her legs over his shoulders, and now put his mouth where his fingers were moments ago. It earned him a strangled noise as she dropped onto her back, hands finding their place again in his now-mussed hair.
This was dangerous territory. But he found himself caring less with every needy sound he drew out of her.
