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“Morpheus? It’s named after the god of dreams?” He isn’t really surprised, all things considered. She’s an English teacher, a know it all with a penchant for dominating almost any situation. Too much like him for her not to know something as utterly useless as that (but potentially not, he’s been meaning to pay Ovid a visit). He can’t help but play the role she wants, flicking his hand out and miming an theatrical wow at her. She catches his eye as she leans against the pod, cocking her hip to the side, and he trails his gaze down and up.
“Oh yeah,” she smirks and he feels it spike under his skin, feels the heat crawl as she gives him that look and points to her own face, “Oh yeah, not just this.”
He can see the suggestion, the challenge and the confidence pouring off her in waves and christ he doesn’t care if it’s predictable it’s so hot. The way she smirks and subtly lifts her hip, her legs long and enticing, grin pulling him in before he can register what’s happening. She’s all coquetry and seduction, playing him with such ease. They’ve been doing this, this thing, the cacophony of the tension between them building to heights that give him vertigo. They dance and provoke, taunt and pull at each other. Saying and not saying things. Doing and not doing. It’s driving him mad, all this touching and not touching. He’s not sure what’s worse.
Before he really comprehends what he’s doing, he strides forward to meet her, with her smirk and sparkling eyes, and kisses her. His hand slides around her waist, the other up into her hair so he can take the challenge from her, lure it from her and pocket it. He catches her stuttered breath of surprise with his lips, spreads his hand against her back and pulls her in closer. He kisses her deeply, filthily, sucking her lip and pushing her against the pod. Sliding a leg between her own, he bites and pulls at her lip, the resulting sound that ripples from her becoming something carnal, and he feels it shoot and crackle down his spine, pooling in his gut. He sucks her tongue, mapping the backs of her teeth, and growls as he feels her whine against his mouth. She drives him mad and he wants to get his own back, wants to get her back for that stunt she pulled with the fingers not 10 minutes ago, because fuck he’s still kind of hard from the images she projected so mercilessly in his mind. He wants to take her apart, wants to make her fall apart right here right now with people in the same room—
There’s a cough, and he steps back, without breaking eye contact. Her breathing is erratic, her pupils blown wide, lips red and swollen, skin flushed and glowing. She licks her lower lip, and flexes her hands. He clenches his fists and fights the blush creeping up his neck. Despite the intention, he’d forgotten that they weren’t actually alone.
“Wow, that was uh, intense.”
“Aye, and fucking private. It’s lovely that you’re both so happy, petal, but d’ya mind not necking on when we’re trying to find me missing crew member?”