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Mako kisses his scars.
Raleigh isn’t ashamed of the lines on his skin, they tell a story that he couldn’t hide even if he wanted too anymore. But he doesn’t exactly go throwing them in people’s faces either. On his left side they’re short, sharp burns on his chest shoulder and back. On his right they’re longer. The burns are darker and patchwork from the top of his arm to the palm of his hand. They press to his chest and draw lines across his back. The ones on his chest come close to connecting to the lines that start high on his ribs and cut across his abs to his pelvis, the high ones are old and faded, the low are dark and newer.
He doesn’t hide them, mostly because he can’t. But outside their room he’s not one to wander around with his shirt off. He’s still not used to the feeling, especially on his right, the way the skin goes from sensitive to dulled within fractions of an inch.
But in their room Mako is a warm weight on his hips as she kisses his scars. Her mouth isn’t chase, it’s teasing and hot and he can’t stifle the sounds that come from his mouth as she works her way up his arms and towards his chest. Except today she doesn’t just linger on his chest, she scoots back and her lips go to the ones on his ribs. His breath catches as hers hits his skin. She ducks her head and nips at the place where the scars start.
His groan is cut off by a harsh bark of laughter.
Mako pauses for a fraction of a second and then repeats the action. He snorts back a laugh but her mouth is on him and he can’t contain it despite how hot what she’s doing is. Her fingers creep up his sides and he’s laughing so hard he can’t think straight. Her thighs tighten on him as she tickles him, her other hand going to his other side where there are no scars and it’s even worse. She tickles him until there are tears in his eyes.
When her hands hesitate he flips her, pressing their bodies together. She’s flushed and perfect underneath him, all soft skin and hard muscle. Her blue black hair fans out underneath her and when he sees the glint in her eyes he can’t decide if he wants to stare at her forever or kiss every inch of pale skin he can get his lips on.
"You’re ticklish," she says.
"Yeah," he grins, "are you?"
She presses her lips together in a silent reply. She doesn’t really know. When she was a kid she was, but her body’s changed since then. For her physical contact has been a rough thing, hard presses of limbs. There’s nothing playful really about it except those rare moments when Sensei would laugh during their sparring or pick her up high above his head.
Raleigh doesn’t let her linger in the moment as he surges forward and drops a chaste kiss to her nose. He ghosts her lips, letting them come almost close enough to touch but pressing his to her chin before they can. He kisses the underside of her jaw and her throat, letting his lips linger on certain spots. Mako shudders but she doesn’t laugh.
"Nope, not there," he murmurs against her chest.
He kisses his way down her body. Sometimes her breath catches and he thinks he’s found a spot but it never happens twice. So he continues on, kissing the lines of her stomach. Her breath catches when he dips his tongue into her naval, but he nips at the skin just below and she gives a breathy moan. He’s a man on a mission though and he veers left instead, pressing his lips to the sharp jut of her hipbone.
High above his head she claps her hand over her mouth to stifle the snort of laughter. He does it again and hears her sharp exhale. He smiles against her skin.
"Gotcha," he murmurs.
Her hands fly away from her mouth as he tickles her. She laughs long and loud, squirming on the bed but he doesn’t let her get away. He focuses on her hips and her sides, laughing with her as she turns in his arms. He tickles her for a long time, drinking in the sound of her laugh. When she’s soft and pliant beneath him he stills his hands and finds himself flat on his back, her weight on him again.
They’re both breathing hard, both still wearing their grins. Neither fades as he bucks his hips up and she slides forward a bit, kissing him. He thinks he can almost taste the laughter on her tongue as her hair falls around his face, shielding them both from the pale light of the desk lamp. He slides his hand up her back and buries his hand in it, the other wrapping around her waist both to pull her closer and to stroke her side.
She laughs into his mouth and he pulls away with a grin. There are tears in her eyes but for once they’re good tears. When he rolls them over she doesn’t fight him. She just ducks her head and kisses the scar that edges his collarbone before settling underneath him. He brushes back a piece of her hair that’s fallen across her nose and all the money in the world could not wipe the smile off his face.
"Looks like you’re ticklish after all," he says thoughtfully, "that’s good to know."
"Is it?" she asks playfully, "you’ve been inside my head."
"Yeah," he says, "but there are still things you don’t know," he leans forward and kisses her again, this time he lets his lips linger hot and slow against hers. She matches him, pushing their bodies closer together and the groan he lets out has nothing to do with being ticklish, "I like finding out new things about you."
They both do. Chances are they’ll never drift again, but the idea that you could know a person as well as they know each other and still find out new things is an intoxicating one. One that makes him kiss her harder and her pull him closer as the playfulness of their tickling turns electric. Turns all encompassing until the only thought is to be closer.
She nods against his head and he slides his hand up her thigh at the same time she moves, locking it at the small of his back as he moves his lips lower on her skin. He feels her throat work and nips at the spot behind her ear that makes her shudder.
"No more distracting me," he says against her skin, "I’ve got some exploring to do."