Work Text:
Ashveil, given the motifying ordeal of being in his current situation, is tempted to withhold Mister N's banana supply for the rest of the quarter year because there truly and really was such a thing as narrating too damn much.
Especially as his current situation consisted of being touched by his- don't the kids have a word for this? Someone you were in a relationship with but also not quite? Was that what he could call Pearl? At any rate, partner. While he was made, (not forced, no one forces him to do anything,) to don makeup and a long silky black dress, of Pearl's choosing.
"You're enjoying this." Ashveil half-heartedly growls out, face on fire. Pearl has the audacity to look up at the ceiling like she's contemplating it, eliciting a frustrated growl of embarrassment from Ashveil at the gesture. She then smiles, pretty as a picture and angelically innocent. Blast her. There was nothing innocent about her. Not in the least.
She runs a hand down his thigh through the slit of the dress that exposes it, the smooth chill of her fingers dancing against his muscles. "Addendum: I enjoy, Ashveil," Pearl says softly. "Being able to study your appearance. To do so is the most aesthetically pleasing experience, in my personal opinion."
"You smooth-tongued IPC sharks." Ashveil grumbles, face heating up as Pearl smiles wider, mischievous. Fuck. She's not good for his mental faculties at all. Otherwise why else- why else would he be dressed this way-
"We could test the smoothness of my tongue, if you like." Pearl says, a particular sound reminiscent of whirring indicating amusement lying underneath the typical elegant neutrality of her voice. "Shall we, Mr. Ashveil?"
Not giving him a chance to respond, Pearl gets onto his lap, efficiently so. She holds his blushing face in her hands- the heat of his skin a sharp contrast to the chill of her metallic hands. Ashveil's eyes find Pearl's own, breath hitching at how intent her gaze is, as if she is pondering on all the possibilities to maximize her pleasure, instead of actually mechanically calculating them and knowing her- it isn't so far from the truth. Pearl's desire was something she herself remained oblivious to, Ashveil's recognized- but heavens if being the target of it wasn't so intoxicating.
"Do I have a choice?" Ashveil breathes out, and Pearl tilts her head to the side- an endearing gesture, yet an intent one as well.
"Always." She murmurs.
With that, Ashveil leans in to steal a kiss, hesitant yet at ease- Pearl hums as she continues holding his face, and he knows her are eyes open, gazing at him, and at first Ashveil had found it unnerving but later, grew to find it adorable, that she couldn't take her eyes off him even at a moment like this. He pulls back for air, licking his lips at the sight of the lipstick mark on her face, as she weaves her fingers through his carefully styled hair.
"You look good like that." Stained, Ashveil doesn't say out loud for how his voice is a whisper and for how he does not wish to break the tension. But judging from the heat emanating from her facial processors when he cups her cheek, she knows. And it pleases him to know, he isn't the only one affected.
"Then- stain me some more." Pearl whispers, and Ashveil rests his hands on her hips, flipping their positions so that he is on top of her and she is on the bed, finally leaning in to do just that.