You got a friend in me

[fifille]

intimacy.

1. PHYSICAL INTIMACY: it might just be innocent touches or it might be during sex.
   
2. LONG CONVERSATIONS: honest words can be more intimate than touch.
   
3. DRUNK: perhaps you're oversharing or simply maudlin.
   
4. FORCED INTIMACY: magic, a truth serum, whatever — you didn't mean to bare your soul, but that is precisely what you're doing right now.
   
5. SLOW-DANCING: there is something inherently intimate about trusting someone else to lead you, and someone trusting you to lead them.
   
6. OTHER: intimacy can come in many forms. pick your poison.

Comments

Phil Coluson l MCU l OTA

[leavelolalone]

[dejah_thoris]

[1,3,5. Preference? Maybe all three?]

[leavelolalone]

[All three would be awesome if you would like to start it.]

[dejah_thoris]

[PM with questions/concerns. I'm also on AIM if you'd prefer.]

It was her third visit to the SHIELD facilities in New Mexico, and after spending all week conferring with their physicists on the Thern and their transport devices, she was ready to unwind. Mister Stark had gifted her a bottle of Earth intoxicant, a fine 'Whiskey' he'd called it, and had adamantly instructed her that she was not to drink it alone.

And that's how Agent Coulson ended up with royalty from another planet knocking on his door with two glasses and a bottle in her hand.

"You said something about showing me your -- 'record collection'?"

[leavelolalone]

Phil was unwinding as best he could after his recent kidnapping, which means he's ignoring that he lost yet another friend and was put through things that would have sent most human beings running for the hills. He smiles at the princess and opens the door wide to admit her.

"I did, I think I said you would enjoy Cream or possibly Miles Davis," he replies, "please come in and we can look through it together."

[dejah_thoris]

She slips passed him with a downcast smile, and looks for a table to put the glasses down on. This is technically out of bounds for both of them, she knows, but he didn't turn her away, so she'll take that for what it's worth.

"I have heard little of your world's music, so I am an empty vessel. Please, fill me however you like." From what little he knows of her, he knows she's been reading Shakespeare and Dickens, and that she breezed through the entire body of Dr. Banner's research in an afternoon. It's a bit odd for a woman who looks like she stepped out of a Frazetta painting, but then, so are most of the people he works with.

[leavelolalone]

Phil gives her another small smile and shuts the door before heading over to his record player and wall of albums, because yes he has vinyl. He pulls five records of the shelf and puts one on letting smooth jazz fill the room. Walking over to the glasses he pours them both a generous measure of whiskey for them both. "Do your people do toasts?"

[dejah_thoris]

She finds herself a spot on the couch to watch while he puts on the music. Her vivid blue eyes watch his hands go through the motions with practiced ease, dusting off the plastic disc and centering it on the spindle, triggering the platter to rotate, and then oh so gently lowering the needle onto the edge.

She continues to watch as he pours their drinks, and she smiles when he asks.

"Yes, yes we do. What are we drinking to, this evening?"

[leavelolalone]

He hands over the glass and settles himself on the couch. "Health...friendship...finding our way home take your pick," he replies. "or chose something that works for you."

[dejah_thoris]

[ooc: Is he still in his suit? or has he dressed down for the evening?]

She takes her glass and swirls it, watching as he settles in. She considers his offer, humming quietly as she thinks. It might be clear that she's consciously trying to set aside a formal response. After a moment, she raises her glass to his.

"To new friends, and new experiences."

[leavelolalone]

[ooc: He has dressed down in khakis and a polo shirt,]

"To new friends and new experiences," he repeats clinking their glasses together and taking a deep sip. "Stark always gets the good stuff."

[dejah_thoris]

Dejah has never had whiskey before. She follows suit, taking more of a swallow. Immediately, her eyes go wide at the burn.

"The -- good stuff, yes." She's coughing a bit, and her eyes start to water. "Mr. Stark must live a dangerous life."

[leavelolalone]

Phil chuckles and shakes his head. "You wouldn't believe the messes I had to clean up because of him. He destroyed down town Miami, outed himself on national TV and then proceeded to blow up his house." He laughs and takes another drink. "And then there is New York."

[dejah_thoris]

"I heard. The Chitauri." She'd spent part of the last three days going over the data, and it was terrifying.

She shifts, slipping off her shoes and tucking her feet beneath her. And yes, now that she knows what to expect, she takes another drink.

"But that's work, and I thought we were taking the night off?"

[leavelolalone]

He chuckles and props his feet up on the table. "We are indeed...so what do people on Mars do for fun?"

[dejah_thoris]

"For fun?" She smirks into her drink, realizing he probably doesn't want a sociology report on her people's preferred past times.

"Well... At this type of gathering, there would be drinking. There might be games, which means gambling. Musicians, which inevitably leads to dancing." A thought strikes her and her brow furrows for a moment.

"Do you dance to this music? It seems too slow for that."

[leavelolalone]

He smiles. "Oh yes we can dance to this music....though to be honest it is more like swaying then the dancing you might be used to." He stands and holds out his hand, head buzzing from the whiskey already. Tony really does get the good stuff. "Would you like me to show you?"

[dejah_thoris]

Dejah take his hand and unfolds her long legs, rising to follow him. There's a curious, wary smirk on her lips.

"Are there steps to learn?"

She's glad for the one glass she drank. It's smoothed away the tension of the day, and she's enjoying the warm haze in her head. Funny, though, it does nothing to quiet the trembling sensation in her chest when he steps in close.

[leavelolalone]

He considers the question. "With this music no," he says gently sliding one of his hands around her waist and the other one he rests at her hip. "With music like this it's about getting close and enjoying the moment."

[dejah_thoris]

"Alright, I think, I can do that." Her mouth has gone dry, and her words come out far less certain than she'd like. The music is a slow, smoky melody, and it certainly sets the mood.

For a moment, she's not quite sure what to do with her hands. Eventually, they come to rest on his chest, lightly, not wanting to give the impression that she's pushing him away. He shifts his weight, and she follows his lead.

This close, she lifts her gaze to meet his, trying to read his expression. She doesn't want to intrude, and this feels like an invitation inside the wall.

"Like this?"

[leavelolalone]

He nods and when he speaks again his voice drops an octave turning into a soft gentle rumble. "You can wrap your hands around my back if that would be more comfortable," he says, "I don't bite." Stark would have added "Not much," but Phil is more of an old school flirt.

Starting to sway a little back and forth he lets the music wash over him letting his worries of the past few weeks wash away with each beat.

[dejah_thoris]

She smirks at his words. "Pity," she says, and then looks away, her cheeks flushing as she realizes just what she said. Her hands slide up to his shoulders, and she opts to wrap her arms around his neck instead. Her fingertips play through the short hairs at the nape of his neck, and her breath is warm against his cheek.

This close, he can see that the tattoos on the side of her face aren't solid. They're some sort of geometric pattern layered, hundreds of times perhaps. It's a dense and delicate filigree that only gives the appearance of being solid at a distance.

She sways with him, exquisitely aware of how close they are from knee to shoulder. She's starting to see the appeal of this style of dance. "Is this alright?"

[leavelolalone]

"It's perfect," he replies gently and studies her face as if memorizing each line and curl of the facial art. "These tattoos are beautiful. Are they common on Mars or just to you?" He asks the question with some hesitation, after all even the great and mighty Agent Coluson isn't above a accidental breach of etiquette.

[dejah_thoris]

"On Barsoom, you mean?" Her voice is a gentle tease, making it clear he has not breached protocol. "Among the people of Helium, yes. We receive them on our day of ascent--what you call your birthday--and every year on the anniversary. Humans age slowly over the course of their lives, and it is possible to tell with a glance how old someone is, and thus, their likely social status. We do not age as you do. The tattoos are our visual representation of our age."

She doesn't mean to lecture, but he inquired, and she does not mind sharing the truth with him. He's the first to ask, incredibly enough.

"Have you no tattoos of your own?" Her fingertips still trace idle circles on the nape of his neck.

[leavelolalone]

He shivers slightly as she is touching what to Earth humans is a sensitive area of skin. "I have scars," he answers honestly, "some people do get tattoos on Earth mostly for body art rather than marking time, though the tattoos can mean something. For SHIELD agents we mark time and our position by the scars we have and where they are."