LOG: Reborn/Bianchi in the library
Who: Reborn and Bianchi
What: Dancing
When: Friday night
Where: Library of the Thousand Sunny
It had been a long week. In the first flush of excitement over discovering his new abilities, he'd been able to dismiss many of the inconveniences that had occurred at the same time: losing Leon (he was his partner, after all), all the little frictions involved in mediating for a crew that could no longer rely entirely on old, familiar patterns... It made him tense, and stressed, and just a little bit angry about having to deal with all of this.
Bianchi had spent the better part of the week once arriving on the Thousand Sunny, trying to learn from the skeleton and be able to sing his song to his specifications. It was hard being away because this was time that could be spent with Reborn but the end result, if what he said was true, it would be worth the effort. She had spoken with a few other people, spent half the day today sunning herself on deck and now she found herself in the library, reading through some of the books on the area just to give herself something to do.
Bianchi, by last report, was on the Thousand Sunny; he hadn't precisely been there often enough to be familiar, but now was as good a time as any to test if the precise visual descriptions of his spies was a good enough substitute. Just a test... is what he told himself, but some part of him was just the slightest bit excited about being able to see her again. He strolled up onto the deck, leaning on the railing and looking out over the sea, eyes closed almost dreamily, though he was piecing together all the information in his head. And then one burst of concentration (and the requisite lack of energy) later, he was on the Straw Hat ship.
Bianchi paused in the middle of a paragraph and glanced up with a frown. It was almost like she'd felt a breeze or a tug. her eyes scanned the room warily and she was silent for a moment before shaking her head and dropping her eyes back down to her book. It was an odd sensation though. Like something important was nearby.
Well, he'd gotten better at judging his landings, Reborn thought as he landed perfectly on his feet despite the pitch and roll of the ship. He looked around to see where he was, the blueprints of the ship clear in his head... It looked like he was outside the library of the ship, on one of the upper decks.
She frowned at the book reading the same paragraph for the third time. Then she closed it in frustration. She pushed it away and stood up, turning to glance out a window. But nothing was out there. Just darkness. She turned and moved toward the door, still looking around the room warily.
There was a slight chance that, despite everything, Robin would be in the library, reading as was usual, and he could ask her where Bianchi was. After all, she was in a unique position to see just about everything that went on on the ship.
Bianchi had just put her hand on the doorknob when it turned underneath it and she was face to face with Reborn. it took a moment to register. And then her heart skipped a few beats. And she threw her arms around his neck, leaning up and tilting his hat forward a little so she could draw fingers through the hair at the back of his head. "Reborn! Did you come looking for me?"
"Of course," he replied smoothly, before leaning down to kiss her, bringing his arms around her, holding her still. At least he didn't have to worry about any unexpected switches, and Bianchi was pliant and lovely in his arms. "I trust you've been taking care of yourself?" He asked after another spine-tingling kiss.
Her back arched and she tried to get as close to him as she could, kissing back happily. When he pulls back enough to speak she licks her lips and slides one hand down to straighten his collar. "Mmm.. of course, Reborn. I always keep myself in top condition." She pressed a kiss to his jaw and slid her hand along the smooth skin. "And you?"
"Oh, I think you'll have to find out what kind of condition I'm in yourself, don't you?" He said, smile dark and teasing, turning her head back toward his for another kiss.
She wanted to crawl inside him... get as close as possible. Her body quivered with it as he kissed her again and she smiled into the kiss. "Mmm... Reborn." Her right hand caressed his cheek, her left trailed slowly down his back. "I'd like to run a few tests." She responded when he allowed her up for air. Air that she needed but really didn't want to have to get because it meant parting from those sinful lips.
"Well, there's all this space," he said, glancing around at the library, but still holding her close, as one hand makes its way to her hip, his mouth inches from hers, but he refuses to close the final distance. "Why don't we make use of it?" He whispers against her lips.
"You tease." She whispered back, "What did you have in mind then?" She did not close the distance, but her eyes drifted down and she focused on those lips. "I'm yours to do as you please." And it was true. Although there were certain things she'd appreciate much more than others.
Reborn stepped away from her to stand by one of the tables in the library. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of the Sound Dials that were in use on the Grand Line for recording sound. Two of them were for Usopp (and another two identical ones for...other parties). But he also had one more, which he holds up with a smile. "I suppose I could've brought something a little more sophisticated, but the sound quality is really quite excellent," and the music that comes out is quick, a Latin flavor to it...
Bianchi could think of worse ways to spend the evening than dancing. She toed off her shoes and nudged them out of the way under a table. Her lips curved into a smile. "Why Reborn, are you asking me to dance?"
"Are you interested?" he asked with a grin, holding one hand out ready for her.
Bianchi shifted and moved forward like a panther, even steps in time to the music, stretching a hand out to clasp his. "With you? Always." She practically purred back.
Reborn carefully took his jacket off and hung it over a convenient chair; underneath, he was wearing a tighter-than-usual black button down shirt that clung to him almost perfectly skin-tight. He moved behind Bianchi, and rested both hands on her hips, waiting for a good point in the music to start moving, tilting his head and leaning in to press a teasing kiss to the back of her ear before he started.
Bianchi watched him appreciatively. Reborn wore everything well. Sometimes she felt she got a little treat though. As his hands settled on her hips, she lifted one up and back to slide down his neck in an intimate pose, her other hand settling low on his hip almost on his thigh, fingers splayed out. With her back nestled snugly against his front, she could almost feel his heart beating against hers. And the moment she felt him begin to move she countered with the swaying over her hips, tantalizingly slow to match the music.
Reborn was someone who had had many partners of sorts in the past (though Leon would always be the most important), and while Bianchi was his fourth lover, she was certainly much higher on the list than that might signify in terms of his regard. "I love dancing with you," he whispered to her, even as he spun around her, with one hand resting on her hip until they were both facing each other.
Bianchi's arm straightened as he moved away from her back, up into the air and then as he moved, down across his shoulders her other hand drawn across her own hips and then up to his face, she stepped in once, twice until they were cradled close together and she could draw one hand down his arm to grasp his hand. She drank in the compliment like a rose to water and looked at him tenderly before she spun her hips out in two steps pulling away from him again. "I've never found a better partner." She returned.
They move together for the next few beats; he barely needs to count the beats in his head as he leads - it just seemed so natural and effortless (with Bianchi, something seemed to say) that while it might look impressive to any onlookers (and why would they have any?) it was...well, fun, thrilling, exhilarating.
The air between them seemed to crackle if you asked Bianchi. It was like she could feel an invisible connection between them, knew the perfect time to roll her hips to match him, to slide into that perfect cross step and then reach out again to twirl under his arm. Even wearing jeans and her t-shirt he made her feel like she was in nothing but a negligee. She wasn't a fool, he was good with women. He knew how to make a woman feel like the sexiest thing to walk the face of the earth. She didn't fool herself. But when she was with him, it didn't matter. Her heart felt like it would burst out of her rib cage.
In its own way, dancing was better than sex. While sex, in its own way, also required actual skill to be done very well, that didn't stop amateurs from participating. But it was intimate - a certain awareness of the other, of the way their body moved, shifted, reacted to your own - in a way that only the very best sex was, and while Reborn might have had many good partners for sex, only a small handful of that number interested him as far as dancing went, and Bianchi was certainly, if not top, one of the top of that list.
Her arm held out delicately, she pulled back from him, loosing their hands, swaying her hips with the music, putting every ounce of feeling into her movements as she could, before twirling back around to face him. She took his hand again and slid up so their lips brushed, just that tantalizing warmth before she twirled back out. Her eyes half lidded and her lips amused.
Dance was, in its way, all about suggestion, but they weren't trying to impress anyone here, and so, where courtesy would usually call for hints and implications of kisses, he sees no need to hold back, pulling her close to crush their lips together, hand sliding down her back and over the curve of her backside through her jeans.
She feels the tug and takes the two steps back in as Reborn claims her lips, tugs their hips in tight and she lifts a leg up to curl around his. Her fingers curled into the hair at the nape of his neck and slid down to appreciate his hip as well. A soft sound close to a moan slipped into his mouth and if she had her way she'd have ripped his clothes off right here. But Reborn was leading. She waited for his next move and enjoyed everything about this for now. The music still beating behind them.
He shifts back the slightest amount, their breath still ghosting over each others' lips, as his hand slides back up to support her; he doesn't even need to say anything as he catches her in a dip, a twirl, this part of the dance a little more acrobatic, as she stretches her long legs to their full extent, bending to show off their flexibility, as he exerts his strength to hold her up for lifts, caressing down the length of her legs as he twirls her around his body.
She follows him, adjusting her body to the soft touches and nudges of his own movements, mildly restricted by the stiff fabric of her jeans but otherwise, nearly as impressive as being in a Latin gown. And his movements in proper attire are fluid and strong. He twirls in again flush against her back and she slides her hands down his hips, and down his legs as she drops then again back up a twirl out, then back in and they spin together, in a series of steps their legs intertwined in something that looks like they should be tripping over one another instead of floating around the library.
"I do love you in the red," he whispered offhandedly, pleased by the way she moves with him so perfectly, "but you look lovely even in this," and they continue their elegant spin across the floor of the library.
Bianchi's cheeks flush in pleasure and she smiles. "Warn me next time and I'll wear it for you." The spin stops and they both turn out and step, then turn back in, hip to hip, "Or nothing at all." She says throatily and the step out the other direction and her smile is intimate, just for him. Another spin and she catches his hand doing a chacha step next to him.
Reborn laughs. "I don't know how much dancing we'd get done in that situation," he teases. "But I'll certainly look forward to our next time."
Bianchi draped her arm across his again, and slid a foot out behind herself before sliding back up and twisting her hips. "I look forward to every time." Her gaze was steady until they twisted out again.
Reborn smiled, looking directly into Bianchi's eyes as she spins back in for him to catch her. "Oh, I try my very best," he teased, this time leaning in for a kiss and pointedly not following through.
She leaned back in disappointment as he'd neared, and then pulled back with that playful smirk he was so good at. Her hand slid down his cheek, neck, chest. Then she pulled back out, doing an intricate set of turning steps with him so she appeared to dance around him this time.
Reborn's gaze was fixed on Bianchi appreciatively as she showed herself off - and why shouldn't she? - paying her the attention she deserved for her display. But when she stilled briefly, he flashed a stunning, playfully challenging smile, working his way through an intricate series of steps on his own, hands brushing down her sides and sliding up her back.
Her lips quirked in a smirk of her own, appreciating his skill. Her skin tingled wherever he touched and her eyes darkened a little and she accepted the challenge, twirling a few times away and sashaying both hips and legs drawing her raised arm down behind her head, around her neck and down her torso, moving in close, and drawing her hand behind his neck as though pulling him closer, so close she could feel her own breath bouncing back from his lips. Before turning away again, rolling her hips against his.
He smiled, the sensation practically palpable against her own lips as he leans in even more. She turned away, but it didn't matter, as he reached out a hand to draw her even closer by her hips, pressing his chest up against her back, breath warm against her ear as his other hand slides down her chest...
Bianchi's breath caught in her throat and she settled her hand on his, just sliding it with his hand and tilting her head back onto his shoulder tilting enough to press a kiss under his jaw, before kicking a foot up then dropping it to the floor between his and sliding down a little, her hair draping across his shoulder still before she allowed herself to be pulled back up, and they rolled their hips in synch.
The music, sadly, was drawing close to an end, and Reborn stepped slightly away from Bianchi, back to the basic step, one two three four, spinning out to the full extent of their linked arms before letting go. He leaned toward her, arms outstretched, an invitation.
She twirled back into his arms and slid one arm up over his shoulder and the other around his back, "Thank you for the dance, Reborn." The words were plain but she was worked up and it came across in the tenor and strain of the words. Her lips parted and she leaned up to press them to his.
To be honest, he doesn't want to deny her, and his kiss is deep, thorough, slightly dominating, his grip just a bit possessive where they rest on her hips; but they aren't exactly in the most discreet location, and he knew she, of all people, would understand that. The kiss was almost perceptibly flavored with a promise of 'next time'.
She could feel it in the kiss, and the grip on her hips. She wanted him now but clearly that wasn't in the stars. Not on this boat of strangers. Her teeth bit gently at his lower lip in reprimand for working up to this and being unable to give her fulfillment. The dance had been amazing though and she could never deny him anything. His aggression was contagious and her nails scratched lightly against his his shirt as she tried to get as much out of this kiss as she could.
He bit back, deepening the kiss a little more; without his suit jacket on, it was easier than usual for the sensation of her nails to register, and while it was certainly not an unusual occurrence for her to scratch him in the middle of far more compromising activities, wearing far less clothing, there was something just a bit more thrilling about this half-dressed state - how often did he get to indulge while was he not dressed impeccably (provided he was actually dressed at the time, of course)?
Bianchi slid her left hand down to squeeze his butt, and enjoy just how fit he was. Her heart beat erratically and her eyes shut, letting the sensation of Reborn's kiss wash over her. She loved him so much it hurt. The shadow cast across their faces by his fedora did nothing to hide the passion of the moment, and the slickness of his tongue claiming her mouth everything felt perfect to her. Everything about Reborn was perfect. How that could be balanced against his penchant to be with other people was a mystery.
He shifted slightly against Bianchi's hand, perhaps peripherally aware of where her thoughts were going. The kiss quite naturally, and he drew away briefly, looking down at her intently, as if trying to actually divine her thoughts from the expression in her eyes...
She breathed slowly and opened her eyes to gaze back at him, working to calm her heart and and body down. She wanted to ask him not to leave her but she knew it would be useless. She reached up and shifted his hat back into proper position instead, smoothing his hair, the front of his shirt, his tie and folding the collar back down where she'd managed to flip it up in her passion.
Reborn stood still, letting Bianchi fuss as she wanted this time, where usually he would do it all himself. When she finished adjusting everything to her satisfaction, he stepped away to pick up his suit jacket, sliding it on gracefully. Fully clothed (so to speak) once more, he tugged Bianchi into his arms to give her one more kiss, wondering what exactly had come over him... He wasn't usually a 'just-a-kiss-goodbye' person, unless the situation called for such sentimentalities, and Bianchi was someone who would understand far better than most.
She could feel the loss of him like something solid and painful. She watched him pull on his jacket then was pleasantly surprised as he gathered her up into one more kiss. It was odd. It made her wonder what had happened in her absence. But she wasn't going to complain if Reborn wanted to kiss her again. She wouldn't complain if he wanted to kiss her till July.
This kiss was noticeable different - not quite as deep, for a start - but what it lacked in physical intensity it seemed to make up for in the aff...attraction that was present between them. So, of course, he breaks it off much sooner than usual, takes a step back, and transports himself back to his previous position on the deck of the other ship.
Bianchi feels him pull away and watches quietly as he appears to shift and then disappear from her vision in the blink of an eye. She stands quietly for a moment, one hand still trailing lightly across her lips. Then she turns and leaves the room, perhaps it is time to get some rest anyhow. In her dreams, Reborn doesn't leave.
What: Dancing
When: Friday night
Where: Library of the Thousand Sunny
It had been a long week. In the first flush of excitement over discovering his new abilities, he'd been able to dismiss many of the inconveniences that had occurred at the same time: losing Leon (he was his partner, after all), all the little frictions involved in mediating for a crew that could no longer rely entirely on old, familiar patterns... It made him tense, and stressed, and just a little bit angry about having to deal with all of this.
Bianchi had spent the better part of the week once arriving on the Thousand Sunny, trying to learn from the skeleton and be able to sing his song to his specifications. It was hard being away because this was time that could be spent with Reborn but the end result, if what he said was true, it would be worth the effort. She had spoken with a few other people, spent half the day today sunning herself on deck and now she found herself in the library, reading through some of the books on the area just to give herself something to do.
Bianchi, by last report, was on the Thousand Sunny; he hadn't precisely been there often enough to be familiar, but now was as good a time as any to test if the precise visual descriptions of his spies was a good enough substitute. Just a test... is what he told himself, but some part of him was just the slightest bit excited about being able to see her again. He strolled up onto the deck, leaning on the railing and looking out over the sea, eyes closed almost dreamily, though he was piecing together all the information in his head. And then one burst of concentration (and the requisite lack of energy) later, he was on the Straw Hat ship.
Bianchi paused in the middle of a paragraph and glanced up with a frown. It was almost like she'd felt a breeze or a tug. her eyes scanned the room warily and she was silent for a moment before shaking her head and dropping her eyes back down to her book. It was an odd sensation though. Like something important was nearby.
Well, he'd gotten better at judging his landings, Reborn thought as he landed perfectly on his feet despite the pitch and roll of the ship. He looked around to see where he was, the blueprints of the ship clear in his head... It looked like he was outside the library of the ship, on one of the upper decks.
She frowned at the book reading the same paragraph for the third time. Then she closed it in frustration. She pushed it away and stood up, turning to glance out a window. But nothing was out there. Just darkness. She turned and moved toward the door, still looking around the room warily.
There was a slight chance that, despite everything, Robin would be in the library, reading as was usual, and he could ask her where Bianchi was. After all, she was in a unique position to see just about everything that went on on the ship.
Bianchi had just put her hand on the doorknob when it turned underneath it and she was face to face with Reborn. it took a moment to register. And then her heart skipped a few beats. And she threw her arms around his neck, leaning up and tilting his hat forward a little so she could draw fingers through the hair at the back of his head. "Reborn! Did you come looking for me?"
"Of course," he replied smoothly, before leaning down to kiss her, bringing his arms around her, holding her still. At least he didn't have to worry about any unexpected switches, and Bianchi was pliant and lovely in his arms. "I trust you've been taking care of yourself?" He asked after another spine-tingling kiss.
Her back arched and she tried to get as close to him as she could, kissing back happily. When he pulls back enough to speak she licks her lips and slides one hand down to straighten his collar. "Mmm.. of course, Reborn. I always keep myself in top condition." She pressed a kiss to his jaw and slid her hand along the smooth skin. "And you?"
"Oh, I think you'll have to find out what kind of condition I'm in yourself, don't you?" He said, smile dark and teasing, turning her head back toward his for another kiss.
She wanted to crawl inside him... get as close as possible. Her body quivered with it as he kissed her again and she smiled into the kiss. "Mmm... Reborn." Her right hand caressed his cheek, her left trailed slowly down his back. "I'd like to run a few tests." She responded when he allowed her up for air. Air that she needed but really didn't want to have to get because it meant parting from those sinful lips.
"Well, there's all this space," he said, glancing around at the library, but still holding her close, as one hand makes its way to her hip, his mouth inches from hers, but he refuses to close the final distance. "Why don't we make use of it?" He whispers against her lips.
"You tease." She whispered back, "What did you have in mind then?" She did not close the distance, but her eyes drifted down and she focused on those lips. "I'm yours to do as you please." And it was true. Although there were certain things she'd appreciate much more than others.
Reborn stepped away from her to stand by one of the tables in the library. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of the Sound Dials that were in use on the Grand Line for recording sound. Two of them were for Usopp (and another two identical ones for...other parties). But he also had one more, which he holds up with a smile. "I suppose I could've brought something a little more sophisticated, but the sound quality is really quite excellent," and the music that comes out is quick, a Latin flavor to it...
Bianchi could think of worse ways to spend the evening than dancing. She toed off her shoes and nudged them out of the way under a table. Her lips curved into a smile. "Why Reborn, are you asking me to dance?"
"Are you interested?" he asked with a grin, holding one hand out ready for her.
Bianchi shifted and moved forward like a panther, even steps in time to the music, stretching a hand out to clasp his. "With you? Always." She practically purred back.
Reborn carefully took his jacket off and hung it over a convenient chair; underneath, he was wearing a tighter-than-usual black button down shirt that clung to him almost perfectly skin-tight. He moved behind Bianchi, and rested both hands on her hips, waiting for a good point in the music to start moving, tilting his head and leaning in to press a teasing kiss to the back of her ear before he started.
Bianchi watched him appreciatively. Reborn wore everything well. Sometimes she felt she got a little treat though. As his hands settled on her hips, she lifted one up and back to slide down his neck in an intimate pose, her other hand settling low on his hip almost on his thigh, fingers splayed out. With her back nestled snugly against his front, she could almost feel his heart beating against hers. And the moment she felt him begin to move she countered with the swaying over her hips, tantalizingly slow to match the music.
Reborn was someone who had had many partners of sorts in the past (though Leon would always be the most important), and while Bianchi was his fourth lover, she was certainly much higher on the list than that might signify in terms of his regard. "I love dancing with you," he whispered to her, even as he spun around her, with one hand resting on her hip until they were both facing each other.
Bianchi's arm straightened as he moved away from her back, up into the air and then as he moved, down across his shoulders her other hand drawn across her own hips and then up to his face, she stepped in once, twice until they were cradled close together and she could draw one hand down his arm to grasp his hand. She drank in the compliment like a rose to water and looked at him tenderly before she spun her hips out in two steps pulling away from him again. "I've never found a better partner." She returned.
They move together for the next few beats; he barely needs to count the beats in his head as he leads - it just seemed so natural and effortless (with Bianchi, something seemed to say) that while it might look impressive to any onlookers (and why would they have any?) it was...well, fun, thrilling, exhilarating.
The air between them seemed to crackle if you asked Bianchi. It was like she could feel an invisible connection between them, knew the perfect time to roll her hips to match him, to slide into that perfect cross step and then reach out again to twirl under his arm. Even wearing jeans and her t-shirt he made her feel like she was in nothing but a negligee. She wasn't a fool, he was good with women. He knew how to make a woman feel like the sexiest thing to walk the face of the earth. She didn't fool herself. But when she was with him, it didn't matter. Her heart felt like it would burst out of her rib cage.
In its own way, dancing was better than sex. While sex, in its own way, also required actual skill to be done very well, that didn't stop amateurs from participating. But it was intimate - a certain awareness of the other, of the way their body moved, shifted, reacted to your own - in a way that only the very best sex was, and while Reborn might have had many good partners for sex, only a small handful of that number interested him as far as dancing went, and Bianchi was certainly, if not top, one of the top of that list.
Her arm held out delicately, she pulled back from him, loosing their hands, swaying her hips with the music, putting every ounce of feeling into her movements as she could, before twirling back around to face him. She took his hand again and slid up so their lips brushed, just that tantalizing warmth before she twirled back out. Her eyes half lidded and her lips amused.
Dance was, in its way, all about suggestion, but they weren't trying to impress anyone here, and so, where courtesy would usually call for hints and implications of kisses, he sees no need to hold back, pulling her close to crush their lips together, hand sliding down her back and over the curve of her backside through her jeans.
She feels the tug and takes the two steps back in as Reborn claims her lips, tugs their hips in tight and she lifts a leg up to curl around his. Her fingers curled into the hair at the nape of his neck and slid down to appreciate his hip as well. A soft sound close to a moan slipped into his mouth and if she had her way she'd have ripped his clothes off right here. But Reborn was leading. She waited for his next move and enjoyed everything about this for now. The music still beating behind them.
He shifts back the slightest amount, their breath still ghosting over each others' lips, as his hand slides back up to support her; he doesn't even need to say anything as he catches her in a dip, a twirl, this part of the dance a little more acrobatic, as she stretches her long legs to their full extent, bending to show off their flexibility, as he exerts his strength to hold her up for lifts, caressing down the length of her legs as he twirls her around his body.
She follows him, adjusting her body to the soft touches and nudges of his own movements, mildly restricted by the stiff fabric of her jeans but otherwise, nearly as impressive as being in a Latin gown. And his movements in proper attire are fluid and strong. He twirls in again flush against her back and she slides her hands down his hips, and down his legs as she drops then again back up a twirl out, then back in and they spin together, in a series of steps their legs intertwined in something that looks like they should be tripping over one another instead of floating around the library.
"I do love you in the red," he whispered offhandedly, pleased by the way she moves with him so perfectly, "but you look lovely even in this," and they continue their elegant spin across the floor of the library.
Bianchi's cheeks flush in pleasure and she smiles. "Warn me next time and I'll wear it for you." The spin stops and they both turn out and step, then turn back in, hip to hip, "Or nothing at all." She says throatily and the step out the other direction and her smile is intimate, just for him. Another spin and she catches his hand doing a chacha step next to him.
Reborn laughs. "I don't know how much dancing we'd get done in that situation," he teases. "But I'll certainly look forward to our next time."
Bianchi draped her arm across his again, and slid a foot out behind herself before sliding back up and twisting her hips. "I look forward to every time." Her gaze was steady until they twisted out again.
Reborn smiled, looking directly into Bianchi's eyes as she spins back in for him to catch her. "Oh, I try my very best," he teased, this time leaning in for a kiss and pointedly not following through.
She leaned back in disappointment as he'd neared, and then pulled back with that playful smirk he was so good at. Her hand slid down his cheek, neck, chest. Then she pulled back out, doing an intricate set of turning steps with him so she appeared to dance around him this time.
Reborn's gaze was fixed on Bianchi appreciatively as she showed herself off - and why shouldn't she? - paying her the attention she deserved for her display. But when she stilled briefly, he flashed a stunning, playfully challenging smile, working his way through an intricate series of steps on his own, hands brushing down her sides and sliding up her back.
Her lips quirked in a smirk of her own, appreciating his skill. Her skin tingled wherever he touched and her eyes darkened a little and she accepted the challenge, twirling a few times away and sashaying both hips and legs drawing her raised arm down behind her head, around her neck and down her torso, moving in close, and drawing her hand behind his neck as though pulling him closer, so close she could feel her own breath bouncing back from his lips. Before turning away again, rolling her hips against his.
He smiled, the sensation practically palpable against her own lips as he leans in even more. She turned away, but it didn't matter, as he reached out a hand to draw her even closer by her hips, pressing his chest up against her back, breath warm against her ear as his other hand slides down her chest...
Bianchi's breath caught in her throat and she settled her hand on his, just sliding it with his hand and tilting her head back onto his shoulder tilting enough to press a kiss under his jaw, before kicking a foot up then dropping it to the floor between his and sliding down a little, her hair draping across his shoulder still before she allowed herself to be pulled back up, and they rolled their hips in synch.
The music, sadly, was drawing close to an end, and Reborn stepped slightly away from Bianchi, back to the basic step, one two three four, spinning out to the full extent of their linked arms before letting go. He leaned toward her, arms outstretched, an invitation.
She twirled back into his arms and slid one arm up over his shoulder and the other around his back, "Thank you for the dance, Reborn." The words were plain but she was worked up and it came across in the tenor and strain of the words. Her lips parted and she leaned up to press them to his.
To be honest, he doesn't want to deny her, and his kiss is deep, thorough, slightly dominating, his grip just a bit possessive where they rest on her hips; but they aren't exactly in the most discreet location, and he knew she, of all people, would understand that. The kiss was almost perceptibly flavored with a promise of 'next time'.
She could feel it in the kiss, and the grip on her hips. She wanted him now but clearly that wasn't in the stars. Not on this boat of strangers. Her teeth bit gently at his lower lip in reprimand for working up to this and being unable to give her fulfillment. The dance had been amazing though and she could never deny him anything. His aggression was contagious and her nails scratched lightly against his his shirt as she tried to get as much out of this kiss as she could.
He bit back, deepening the kiss a little more; without his suit jacket on, it was easier than usual for the sensation of her nails to register, and while it was certainly not an unusual occurrence for her to scratch him in the middle of far more compromising activities, wearing far less clothing, there was something just a bit more thrilling about this half-dressed state - how often did he get to indulge while was he not dressed impeccably (provided he was actually dressed at the time, of course)?
Bianchi slid her left hand down to squeeze his butt, and enjoy just how fit he was. Her heart beat erratically and her eyes shut, letting the sensation of Reborn's kiss wash over her. She loved him so much it hurt. The shadow cast across their faces by his fedora did nothing to hide the passion of the moment, and the slickness of his tongue claiming her mouth everything felt perfect to her. Everything about Reborn was perfect. How that could be balanced against his penchant to be with other people was a mystery.
He shifted slightly against Bianchi's hand, perhaps peripherally aware of where her thoughts were going. The kiss quite naturally, and he drew away briefly, looking down at her intently, as if trying to actually divine her thoughts from the expression in her eyes...
She breathed slowly and opened her eyes to gaze back at him, working to calm her heart and and body down. She wanted to ask him not to leave her but she knew it would be useless. She reached up and shifted his hat back into proper position instead, smoothing his hair, the front of his shirt, his tie and folding the collar back down where she'd managed to flip it up in her passion.
Reborn stood still, letting Bianchi fuss as she wanted this time, where usually he would do it all himself. When she finished adjusting everything to her satisfaction, he stepped away to pick up his suit jacket, sliding it on gracefully. Fully clothed (so to speak) once more, he tugged Bianchi into his arms to give her one more kiss, wondering what exactly had come over him... He wasn't usually a 'just-a-kiss-goodbye' person, unless the situation called for such sentimentalities, and Bianchi was someone who would understand far better than most.
She could feel the loss of him like something solid and painful. She watched him pull on his jacket then was pleasantly surprised as he gathered her up into one more kiss. It was odd. It made her wonder what had happened in her absence. But she wasn't going to complain if Reborn wanted to kiss her again. She wouldn't complain if he wanted to kiss her till July.
This kiss was noticeable different - not quite as deep, for a start - but what it lacked in physical intensity it seemed to make up for in the aff...attraction that was present between them. So, of course, he breaks it off much sooner than usual, takes a step back, and transports himself back to his previous position on the deck of the other ship.
Bianchi feels him pull away and watches quietly as he appears to shift and then disappear from her vision in the blink of an eye. She stands quietly for a moment, one hand still trailing lightly across her lips. Then she turns and leaves the room, perhaps it is time to get some rest anyhow. In her dreams, Reborn doesn't leave.