[ They're coming off one job and hopping into another one. Not so back to back, since Arthur had carefully outlined the timeline, but it's close. This leaves them flying from Hong Kong into San Diego and then onto Atlanta. He's never spent a lot of time in the south, so he's a little disappointed they won't be able to see much of the city while they're there. Too much research and work to do.
Their architect will be meeting them there, at the appointed meeting spot in a couple days. Before then, he has some information to compile. And Dany, well, she has some work too, but mostly they both will need rest after such a long haul.
The room at the hotel is shared, spacious, two beds. As a group, they'll be working out of a warehouse he'd rented space for earlier in the month. Here in the hotel though, they can relax for a time. Arthur waves the keycard in front of the lock and hears the soft beep that allows them entry. Pushing the door open, he holds it for Dany before following in after, wordlessly dropping his bag onto the nearby desk. ]
Hungry? I can have room service send something up.
[ The heels of her shoes tap-tap-tap on hardwood floors in the lobby, the points (weapons, as it were) sinking into the carpet of the halls. She's reading something on her phone as they meander down said hall, he with his suitcase, she with her rollerbag. They appear as a flashy couple in a flashy hotel, as it were, and thus draw little attention to themselves. He with his crisp and meticulously tailored suit, she with her form-fitting sheath dress.
Despite the trip, not a hair is out of place on either of their heads. Preferable. She's not a vain creature, but Dany does prefer to look presentable. It seemed to have worked upon their exit of the airport and their entrance into the hotel.
She sets her phone down upon entering their room, pushing her bag beside the large dresser. ]
I'd prefer a drink after listening to that baby the entire flight. [ It's a tired joke as she slips out of her shoes, leaning forward to rub one foot. ] We should have something. Neither of us can exist on coffee alone.
[ That earns a pointed look, before she abandons her task and claims the bed nearest the door, sitting on its edge with a soft groan. Then it's on to the task of pulling her hose off. It's a simple gesture, but still a meaningful one. Paranoia in their line of work would dictate the bed nearest the door is the least safe, should someone deem it necessary to break in. Arthur is far better a shot than she is, anyway. ]
Do they have a fruit plate? I'd like a burger and fruit, not fries.
[ Not a hair out of place, because that's just how they were. Though frankly, he couldn't wait to get out of this suit and into something more comfortable. After so many hours spent in the air and in airports, the suit started to itch. Or maybe he just got twitchy. Whatever the case, he was ready to not have to show this professional face to the world.
Just a little longer and he'd get his wish.
At Dany's answer, he raises an eyebrow, the flicker of a smile curling his mouth. ]
What's your poison? Tequila?
[ He's been out drinking with her before, but she always seems to mix it up. Toeing his shoes off and neatly placing them at the foot of his bed– now that Dany has picked hers, ladies first obviously– he makes his way over to the side table. There's a menu sitting on top, conveniently located near the phone. With a quick perusal, it does look like there's fruit. ]
Fresh fruit, even. Rare, medium, or well? [ And then, after a beat: ] You might have to prop me up to eat, feels like my eyes are gonna revolt and cross.
Are you looking to turn me into a lush tonight, Arthur? [ Her smile comes more readily, paired with a teasing warmth in her eyes. She takes her time to cross one leg over the other, leaning back on her hands and assuming an all too relaxed posture. ] You invite trouble if you are. Maybe bourbon, instead.
[ Unless he truly did wish to have her draped over his lap... but seeing as he gives voice to his exhaustion, perhaps it would be best to avoid any provocation for harassing him.
She's dutifully busying herself with unhooking a dagger from her thigh that she doesn't notice him skimming the menu until he announces what's on the menu. And once he does make mention of fresh fruit, all she can do a quietly groan. ]
Medium. Are there oranges? [ With her daggerless, sheath and blade dropped on her bed, she pushes to her feet and pads into the bathroom. One flick of the switch later, and Arthur's profile is cast in the warmer glow of a bathroom light. ] I promise I won't take a picture. You know, I've always thought it a waste that they offer a bar of soap for someone staying a night.
[ He's still flipping through the menu, going back and forth between two pages as he tries to decide what to get for himself. ] Bourbon neat?
[ Strong stuff. But Dany's never backed down from any challenge. She tackles them head on. It's what he likes about her the most. ]
Looks like you'll be getting a surprise arrangement. I can ask for oranges, though. [ When the light flicks on, he finally glances up, eyes adjusting to the change. And then he's raising an eyebrow, just a bit of mischief shining through. ]
Guess we'll have to find other uses for it. You can take a photo on the burner phone, if you really want to.
[ She doesn't answer him, but merely raises her brows. If he catches her look, she imagines he'll understand. And if he doesn't, well... he's an imagination to use to fill in the blanks. ]
Bourbon neat is fine.
[ More than fine, really. If she managed to stay awake long enough to drink it all, well, then.
Her laughter echoes in the bathroom, loud and ringing. She can't muster the energy to grimace when she's idly picking at the wax paper to their bar of soap. ]
Maybe you should order the tequila. [ Hip propped against the doorframe, she has the perfect view of him and that mischievous glint to his eyes. ] If we're to be imaginative with the soap.
[ After a moment's hesitation, said soap thumps against her mattress. She's slowly padding across the room, much like a lioness stalking prey, until she reaches him. And then she's slowly, slowly loosening his tie. ]
[ Dany's laugher rings out in the room, echoes off the tiles of the bathroom where she's standing in the doorway. It's a pleasant sound, warm and friendly. If she's faking, then she's very good. But something about her expression says this is honesty (something that runs heat through his chest).
He's got the hotel phone earpiece cradled between his shoulder and jaw, listening to the tinny ringing as it connects to the room service desk. After a beat of this, the bar of soap is landing on the mattress— a good throw, he notes— and his space is full of mirthful blonde. Arthur's eyebrows ratchet up on his forehead as the call connects and he somehow maintains a professional voice as he orders, even though Dany's clever fingers are undoing his tie. His expression remains astonished and amused, mouth curling at the corners.
At least the call doesn't take long and soon he's setting the phone back down, nearly forgotten. Instead he busies his hands with sliding up the sides of Dany's extremely flattering dress, inching the skirt of it up. ]
I'll pass on the tequila. Don't know if those pictures are going to be sleepily incriminating, if I'm catching your drift.
[ It is honesty. Much more of it afforded for him thanks to the number of jobs they've taken together. Arthur's a rather strange beast, and he's managed to wiggle himself beneath her defenses enough to steal some of her affections. It's a rather dangerous thing, truth be told. And yet she's come to terms with this development, even maintaining an unruffled air in the face of it.
Her lips quirk up in a mischievous tilt as he speaks to someone on the other end of the line. Blue eyes are warm, like the summer sky, however, despite how they dare him to stop her.
He doesn't, and soon that perfectly tied tie is hanging, its two ends resting against his chest, fisted lightly in her hands. She tilts her head, making no move to stop warm hands from inching her skirts higher. ]
[ She's not stopping him, which is a good sign. It points to consent, agreement, both of them wholly invested. He's still tired, the exhaustion having settled into his bones and nerves after they'd stepped off the plane. But, he's finding himself distracted away from wanting to slump into the bed, sink into the pillows– well, maybe not completely away. Maybe he'll end up that way, just for different reasons. Dany seems like the type to get her way (he doesn't mind at all).
So he doesn't take her dare, doesn't stop her, lets her fist the ends of his tie, hanging undone. ]
Hard to misinterpret my hands up your dress. If this is about my comment on the soap, this isn't exactly what I had in mind. It's a good surprise, though.
[ An understatement. Having a lap full of Dany is actually pretty excellent. ]
Can I kiss you?
HEY GUESS WHO FOUND THIS AND TOTES THOUGHT IT WAS ON YOUR END.....
You'd be surprised what some people can misinterpret.
[ Those hands up her dress, however, are left to their own devices. The higher they go, the closer to her arse they reach, the more he'll find her readily pressing into his touch.
She likes him clean and pristine.
She thinks she'll like him more when he's properly rumpled. There's the hint of it here and there, aided by how tired they are, and she finds she likes a tired and relaxed Arthur. ]
Honestly, not much surprises me in that way any longer.
[ Too much time spent in the dreamshare career would do that to a person. Especially since he's been running point for a few years. The amount of times he's had to illustrate something or be so painfully blunt is just. A lot. More than he thought he would have to be, considering they're in a field that attracts intellectuals.
(Maybe that's the problem, no common sense).
He puts that out of his mind, though, slides his hands to the swell of her bottom and gives a playful squeeze. She's warm to the touch and a pleasant weight in his lap and he'd be stupid to turn down her obvious consent. So he doesn't.
Arthur leans in, tilts his chin up to meet her mouth. It's light and chaste at first, then second, and then he presses for a little more, smile curving his mouth. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
once upon a time in dreamshare // arthur/daenerys
Their architect will be meeting them there, at the appointed meeting spot in a couple days. Before then, he has some information to compile. And Dany, well, she has some work too, but mostly they both will need rest after such a long haul.
The room at the hotel is shared, spacious, two beds. As a group, they'll be working out of a warehouse he'd rented space for earlier in the month. Here in the hotel though, they can relax for a time. Arthur waves the keycard in front of the lock and hears the soft beep that allows them entry. Pushing the door open, he holds it for Dany before following in after, wordlessly dropping his bag onto the nearby desk. ]
Hungry? I can have room service send something up.
no subject
Despite the trip, not a hair is out of place on either of their heads. Preferable. She's not a vain creature, but Dany does prefer to look presentable. It seemed to have worked upon their exit of the airport and their entrance into the hotel.
She sets her phone down upon entering their room, pushing her bag beside the large dresser. ]
I'd prefer a drink after listening to that baby the entire flight. [ It's a tired joke as she slips out of her shoes, leaning forward to rub one foot. ] We should have something. Neither of us can exist on coffee alone.
[ That earns a pointed look, before she abandons her task and claims the bed nearest the door, sitting on its edge with a soft groan. Then it's on to the task of pulling her hose off. It's a simple gesture, but still a meaningful one. Paranoia in their line of work would dictate the bed nearest the door is the least safe, should someone deem it necessary to break in. Arthur is far better a shot than she is, anyway. ]
Do they have a fruit plate? I'd like a burger and fruit, not fries.
no subject
Just a little longer and he'd get his wish.
At Dany's answer, he raises an eyebrow, the flicker of a smile curling his mouth. ]
What's your poison? Tequila?
[ He's been out drinking with her before, but she always seems to mix it up. Toeing his shoes off and neatly placing them at the foot of his bed– now that Dany has picked hers, ladies first obviously– he makes his way over to the side table. There's a menu sitting on top, conveniently located near the phone. With a quick perusal, it does look like there's fruit. ]
Fresh fruit, even. Rare, medium, or well? [ And then, after a beat: ] You might have to prop me up to eat, feels like my eyes are gonna revolt and cross.
no subject
[ Unless he truly did wish to have her draped over his lap... but seeing as he gives voice to his exhaustion, perhaps it would be best to avoid any provocation for harassing him.
She's dutifully busying herself with unhooking a dagger from her thigh that she doesn't notice him skimming the menu until he announces what's on the menu. And once he does make mention of fresh fruit, all she can do a quietly groan. ]
Medium. Are there oranges? [ With her daggerless, sheath and blade dropped on her bed, she pushes to her feet and pads into the bathroom. One flick of the switch later, and Arthur's profile is cast in the warmer glow of a bathroom light. ] I promise I won't take a picture. You know, I've always thought it a waste that they offer a bar of soap for someone staying a night.
no subject
[ He's still flipping through the menu, going back and forth between two pages as he tries to decide what to get for himself. ] Bourbon neat?
[ Strong stuff. But Dany's never backed down from any challenge. She tackles them head on. It's what he likes about her the most. ]
Looks like you'll be getting a surprise arrangement. I can ask for oranges, though. [ When the light flicks on, he finally glances up, eyes adjusting to the change. And then he's raising an eyebrow, just a bit of mischief shining through. ]
Guess we'll have to find other uses for it. You can take a photo on the burner phone, if you really want to.
no subject
Bourbon neat is fine.
[ More than fine, really. If she managed to stay awake long enough to drink it all, well, then.
Her laughter echoes in the bathroom, loud and ringing. She can't muster the energy to grimace when she's idly picking at the wax paper to their bar of soap. ]
Maybe you should order the tequila. [ Hip propped against the doorframe, she has the perfect view of him and that mischievous glint to his eyes. ] If we're to be imaginative with the soap.
[ After a moment's hesitation, said soap thumps against her mattress. She's slowly padding across the room, much like a lioness stalking prey, until she reaches him. And then she's slowly, slowly loosening his tie. ]
And if you'll allow me my pictures.
no subject
He's got the hotel phone earpiece cradled between his shoulder and jaw, listening to the tinny ringing as it connects to the room service desk. After a beat of this, the bar of soap is landing on the mattress— a good throw, he notes— and his space is full of mirthful blonde. Arthur's eyebrows ratchet up on his forehead as the call connects and he somehow maintains a professional voice as he orders, even though Dany's clever fingers are undoing his tie. His expression remains astonished and amused, mouth curling at the corners.
At least the call doesn't take long and soon he's setting the phone back down, nearly forgotten. Instead he busies his hands with sliding up the sides of Dany's extremely flattering dress, inching the skirt of it up. ]
I'll pass on the tequila. Don't know if those pictures are going to be sleepily incriminating, if I'm catching your drift.
no subject
Her lips quirk up in a mischievous tilt as he speaks to someone on the other end of the line. Blue eyes are warm, like the summer sky, however, despite how they dare him to stop her.
He doesn't, and soon that perfectly tied tie is hanging, its two ends resting against his chest, fisted lightly in her hands. She tilts her head, making no move to stop warm hands from inching her skirts higher. ]
Did I misinterpret yours?
no subject
So he doesn't take her dare, doesn't stop her, lets her fist the ends of his tie, hanging undone. ]
Hard to misinterpret my hands up your dress. If this is about my comment on the soap, this isn't exactly what I had in mind. It's a good surprise, though.
[ An understatement. Having a lap full of Dany is actually pretty excellent. ]
Can I kiss you?
HEY GUESS WHO FOUND THIS AND TOTES THOUGHT IT WAS ON YOUR END.....
[ Those hands up her dress, however, are left to their own devices. The higher they go, the closer to her arse they reach, the more he'll find her readily pressing into his touch.
She likes him clean and pristine.
She thinks she'll like him more when he's properly rumpled. There's the hint of it here and there, aided by how tired they are, and she finds she likes a tired and relaxed Arthur. ]
I'd be disappointed if you didn't, Arthur.
WOW???
[ Too much time spent in the dreamshare career would do that to a person. Especially since he's been running point for a few years. The amount of times he's had to illustrate something or be so painfully blunt is just. A lot. More than he thought he would have to be, considering they're in a field that attracts intellectuals.
(Maybe that's the problem, no common sense).
He puts that out of his mind, though, slides his hands to the swell of her bottom and gives a playful squeeze. She's warm to the touch and a pleasant weight in his lap and he'd be stupid to turn down her obvious consent. So he doesn't.
Arthur leans in, tilts his chin up to meet her mouth. It's light and chaste at first, then second, and then he presses for a little more, smile curving his mouth. ]