[Chuck fucking hates Raleigh Becket. Hates her because she walked from the Jaeger program, hates her because she was one of his idles and then she wasn't, hates her because she Drifts so easily with Mako, hates her purely because he can.
But there's a fine line between love and hate and Chuck doesn't remember what love feels like but he knows that hate feels like wanting to be right, wanting to shove her into a wall and shove his tongue into her mouth because it's a damn good way to make her stop talking, wanting to know what the fuck makes her tick but refusing to ask.
Chuck doesn't want to talk. Doesn't want to discuss how he survived Pitfall, doesn't want to talk about what the hell he's doing to do with his life now, doesn't want to do anything but crawl on top of her, kissing her hard and fast. This is good, this is Raleigh not talking and he's not thinking too hard on how she makes him feel confusing things.]
[ She hates him right back, too, this arrogant asshole who reminds her too much of herself before Yancy died, cocky as hell and in need of being taken down a peg or two: pre-Knifehead, she would've only been too glad to do the honours of kicking his ass, but post-Knifehead, well.
Post-Knifehead is a different deal entirely. But they're not here to talk about ass-kicking; they're not here to talk about anything at all, save to get the lust out of their system, this thing like a punch to the gut, of desire and violence and want and need and it's awful to say that he, too, makes her feel alive. His tongue's in her mouth and she's shoving him right back, her hands tugging his shirt up because like hell he's going to take the lead when she's got seven years on him.
He survived and that's what matters, and it doesn't take a genius to see the wounds and the trauma he carries with him, the violence and the anger and the hate and a part of her wants to tame that, make it hers because she understands. Her kisses are just as fierce, and her hands roam over his back, tugging up his shirt. Her hips buck, pushing up against him in something entirely reactionary, wanting. ]
Take it off. [ She growls between kisses, greedy and hungry for more of him, for more of this. Why the fuck are you still wearing clothes, Hansen? ]
[Chuck has this moment where he's actually torn about what to do, because he wants to take his shirt off, wants to feel her fingers digging into his shoulders, wants to rip her clothes off too but he doesn't want her telling him what to do, ordering him around like she can just do that. He wants to deny her what she wants just to say that he did and he has that power over her.
He moves his mouth to her neck to cover up his dilemma, marking her skin and fuck, fine, you pushy harpy. He'll take it off. Only because she keeps pulling at it and nearly choking him and getting in his way of doing what he wants and Chuck bites her skin hard before he rears back to strip the shirt off in one movement.]
[ Raleigh says that just to be a shit, really, because she's grinning and this is better, isn't it? A distraction from the traumatic post-event horrors, where they pretend everything else is all right and the focus is right on them.
He bites her and she hisses, but at least she's treated to the pretty delightful sight that is Shirtless Chuck. Quite a perfect specimen of a man, she notes, scars and all; reminds her of the burns she'd received during Anchorage, the burns that still mark her so clearly now. Her smile flickers, just a little, before she's moving to pull him down for another kiss, hands coming up to splay over his chest, to study his scars and map them out in her memory. Funny, she's never been this self-conscious before.
Then again, she's never been naked with anyone before -- well, after Anchorage. ] ...Later.
[Why isn't she taking her shirt off? And don't think he missed the moment when her smile died, even if it was brief, or that her eyes are immediately drawn to his scars and he just tenses up without moving (somehow), just ready for her to say something about them, to make some stupid comment like she always does, and he's almost disappointed when she doesn't.
Because he likes fighting with her, he likes pushing and pushing until she pushes back because she pushes back hard and so few people can actually keep up with him enough to do that.
But anyway, her shirt is still and what the fuck, Becket? Why later? Why not right now?]
[ Don't kill the mood, Hansen; it was going quite well, too. Although to be honest Raleigh hadn't actually thought that far -- had pretty much assumed that she'd take charge, keep her clothes on, and he doesn't ask questions. It's the reminder of her loss that she's only just come to terms with, but Chuck doesn't need to know that.
The guy probably wouldn't understand -- and she's not up for a rehash of how she and her brother were what got the Jaeger Project canceled. She watches him tense, and oh, how she understands. They carry the weight of the war with them, and it doesn't go away just because it's all over. ] Let's play a game where you put that mouth to better use.
[ it doesn't take her long to push him back onto her bed, her lips finding the scar at his collarbone, tongue lapping delicately over the sensitive scar tissue. How's that for a distraction? ]
[Oh. That's nice. It almost even succeeds in distracting him from the fact that she's refusing to take her shirt off and he's not an idiot, Becket. He knows exactly what your game is trying to do and what the fuck.
Seriously, what the fuck, why is she being like this? This isn't a one way street and he's not a sex doll.]
Becket--[Chuck growls at her, twisting them so he's back on top.] What the hell?
[ When Raleigh finds herself pinned back against her pillows, she looks up at him, a flicker of surprise in her expression. Well then, that was unexpected; Chuck's not looking for a simple one-night stand, and she's not sure what to feel about that, because they could definitely still make out with her shirt on, and --
-- it really sort of irritates her how he inspires the strangest feelings from her, too. ] It's not something you want to see.
[ She says finally, decides to just take the bull by the damn horns and pulls her shirt over her head. She doesn't let go of the shirt, her expression tense and unreadable but fixed on his face; if those circuit burns pretty much kill the mood entirely then... well.
Then that's it. There it is, the vivid scars spanning her shoulder, her chest, the burns snaking over under the bra. ]
[How much of an asshole does she think he is? Because he'd have to be a special brand of dick to let her scars kill the mood but his are okay and if you want to be honest about it, his are uglier than hers, they don't follow circuitry lines, it's just burns and burns, blossoming over his chest and shoulders like the ugliest flower.
Actually-- maybe he doesn't want to know how much of an asshole she thinks he is.
Chuck moved to give her the space to pull the shirt off, sitting back on his heels even as he's straddling one of her legs and he stays there for a moment, just looking down at her. He's not about to sprout some flowery shit at her, and call her scars beautiful and a part of her and whatever the fuck else but he's hardly turned off.
Fair's fair, he showed her his and now that she's shown him hers, he leans down to trace the lines along her shoulder and chest with his mouth.]
[ ...Yeah, he doesn't have to know how much of an asshole she thinks he is. Although to be fair it isn't so bad -- he might be mightily insufferable a good amount of the time, and Raleigh is more than aware of how unapologetically egoistic Chuck is, but he has his good moments, too, and maybe she likes that enough to want to stick around, to want him, for better or worse.
It's not beautiful, and the flowery shit probably would kill the mood because it's not Chuck's style and if she wanted that she'd sleep with someone else and she likes his brand of honesty even if she's surprised at that particular response. Raleigh is wrong about him in a few little ways, and when she watches him lean down over her, the touch of his lips over sensitive skin, she shudders under him, a part of her startled by his response and the other part ridiculously turned on.
Her hand comes to rest on his shoulder, over one of his scars, too, her thumb rubbing lightly over it; and she doesn't find it ugly, not really. ]
[He makes a completely frustrated noise against her shoulder because why. Why do they have to talk about it, who said that they had to talk about anything and this is why he kissed her in the first place, to make her stop talking.
Is it weird? He has no idea. He can't see why it would be weird that he doesn't judge her scars because wouldn't that make him pretty hypocritical? They both have scars from being pilots and that's just how it fucking is, stop trying to make something out of nothing, Becket.]
[ Then kiss her again, or she'll -- well, fuck. She'll just kiss him because it's stupid, it's a stupid thing to be self-conscious about and she's sensitive enough to that tone of voice to know that he doesn't want to talk.
That's fine with her, too, they don't have to talk; they're not very good at it, even if Raleigh's the more forthcoming out of the both of them when it comes to this sort of thing. She says nothing more, simply tips his face up to hers, pressing her mouth to his in a heated, scorching kiss; hands roaming and touching, enjoying the feel of him under her touch. He's solidly built, strong, nearly 180 pounds of muscle -- quite the sort of man Raleigh's liked.
No more talking. She exhales quietly when the kiss eases, cupping his face and pressing her lips lightly against the scar on his shoulder. ]
[Yes, good. That's better. That's going back to the proper way of things. Chuck rewards her for dropping the subject by kissing her just a hard in return, like good job for shutting up Raleigh, here's some Hansen loving for being such a well trained puppy.
Maybe it makes him an asshole but he trained Max to be pretty well behaved and Raleigh's well on her way to being at the same level as his bulldog.
She's definitely got a weird obsession with scars, both his and hers but he can pretend like he doesn't notice, if she doesn't talk about it. He wouldn't have thought that her kissing his scars would be as sexy as it is, and he can't really stop the shudder that rolls through him when she does it.]
[ And in true puppy fashion, she leaves a nice, vivid lovebite on his collarbone because excuse you, she's a pedigree. And obviously pedigrees like some Hansen loving, although she's nowhere near as well-behaved as Max is, because what she's doing now is flipping him onto his back and pinning him back to the mattress.
She straddles his waist, a smug expression flickering on her face because she saw that -- so he likes when she kisses his scars, doesn't he? So she keeps doing that, to a particularly ugly one splayed over his chest while tucking her hair back behind her ear. Sexy? Hell, yeah it's sexy that he's so affected by it. ] I wondered what would make you tick.
[She's a mutt. She's a half French mutt and they all know it.
Chuck lets out a sharp breath of air when she flips them (it's not a gasp, it's not, it's not, it's not) and settles his hands on her thighs. Maybe he does like it, maybe he also doesn't want to talk about it or think about it too hard because that would be the same as thinking and talking about how no one's ever touched his scars and not run the other way.
And he does not need Raleigh Becket's acceptance. He doesn't.]
[ She's a pretty half-french mutt and he'd better know it.
Yes, yes it is. It's a gasp and it sounds so good and she's grinning above him because damn, Chuck. You like it when your girls take control, and Raleigh's learning that. She's touching his scars and definitely not running the other way -- she's admiring him and really, Chuck's a whole lot more endearing when he isn't talking. ]
Yeah? [ She baits, because she likes talking and you're not going to stop her, Chuckles. ] What're those other things? [ Hands, roaming to places, splayed over his stomach, her thumb gently rubbing over the sensitive scar tissue there, too. ]
[He never said she wasn't attractive, holy shit, quit fishing for compliments.
She really talks too fucking much though. Chuck is tempted to grab a fistful of her hair and push her head lower because that, that is something she could do with her mouth that isn't talking. But-- she's also capable of kicking his ass and he actually respects her more than that. She's not a stupid Jaeger fly, she's not here because he's famous and she gets bragging rights with her friends for sleeping with him.
Chuck doesn't really know what she's doing here but he knows it's not that.
He does grab the back of her head though, twisting his fingers in her hair but he pulls her up instead, bringing their mouths together in a harsh kiss. There, that's something that's not talking.]
[ Huh, how about that. Chuck really is in a hurry to get her to stop talking. She kisses him back, heated and wanting, pushing him back down to the mattress because he's got a pretty good idea right there, right? Kissing, lots and lots of kissing -- great things to do with mouths that don't make either of them want to kill the other. Her ferocity matches his own when roused, when she burns and doesn't yield; his fingers in her hair and her hands roaming, possessive.
They don't talk about why she's here, or why he is, except that it is what it is and for the time being he's hers. Funny how that works, that she's a fucking cougar or some shit, and worse, it's with Chuck; but at this point she doesn't care. She likes him, he drives her nuts but she likes him, live with it. ]
She is a cougar and if Chuck were a normal boy with normal friends, he'd totally get high fives for bagging an older woman, but he's not and he'd be willing to bet that he's actually more experienced than she is. Not that she isn't talented and he doesn't like what she's doing but she's got relationship girl written all over her.
And he just-- doesn't do those.]
Take them off yourself if you're going to be so pushy.
[ She does have Relationship Girl written all over her, and this thing -- whatever this thing is with Chuck, is an exception, it's something she'd never intended for.
Raleigh makes a low, frustrated noise under her breath; and a part of her definitely likes how he challenges her, how he pushes her to push back, to fight him every step of the way.
Her fingers undo his belt, tugging it loose before she drops it over the edge. But she doesn't move further -- what he does, however, is to trace lazy patterns over his hipbone, before pressing a slow, lazy kiss to it. ]
You definitely got some of these scars outside of a Jaeger.
[Raleigh Becket is the strangest girl in the entire world in that she is clearly trying to kill his boner five seconds after she gets its interest. He's suddenly seriously reconsidering his previous idea that she's got some experience because why would anyone sleep with someone who talks this much?
[ No, no, it doesn't matter. Raleigh gently bats his hand away because she's not going to let him dictate what she gets to do to him. But yeah, well, a blowjob's on the cards because he's semi-nice about shit, and she's quite decent at it, imaginative and good with her tongue.
The rest of it's pretty much sex with her pinning him down and riding him and it's nearly an hour and a half later before they're finished with a thoroughly satisfying session. Raleigh rolls over on her stomach beside him, lazy and happy and sleepy. ]
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But there's a fine line between love and hate and Chuck doesn't remember what love feels like but he knows that hate feels like wanting to be right, wanting to shove her into a wall and shove his tongue into her mouth because it's a damn good way to make her stop talking, wanting to know what the fuck makes her tick but refusing to ask.
Chuck doesn't want to talk. Doesn't want to discuss how he survived Pitfall, doesn't want to talk about what the hell he's doing to do with his life now, doesn't want to do anything but crawl on top of her, kissing her hard and fast. This is good, this is Raleigh not talking and he's not thinking too hard on how she makes him feel confusing things.]
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Post-Knifehead is a different deal entirely. But they're not here to talk about ass-kicking; they're not here to talk about anything at all, save to get the lust out of their system, this thing like a punch to the gut, of desire and violence and want and need and it's awful to say that he, too, makes her feel alive. His tongue's in her mouth and she's shoving him right back, her hands tugging his shirt up because like hell he's going to take the lead when she's got seven years on him.
He survived and that's what matters, and it doesn't take a genius to see the wounds and the trauma he carries with him, the violence and the anger and the hate and a part of her wants to tame that, make it hers because she understands. Her kisses are just as fierce, and her hands roam over his back, tugging up his shirt. Her hips buck, pushing up against him in something entirely reactionary, wanting. ]
Take it off. [ She growls between kisses, greedy and hungry for more of him, for more of this. Why the fuck are you still wearing clothes, Hansen? ]
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He moves his mouth to her neck to cover up his dilemma, marking her skin and fuck, fine, you pushy harpy. He'll take it off. Only because she keeps pulling at it and nearly choking him and getting in his way of doing what he wants and Chuck bites her skin hard before he rears back to strip the shirt off in one movement.]
You're next.
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[ Raleigh says that just to be a shit, really, because she's grinning and this is better, isn't it? A distraction from the traumatic post-event horrors, where they pretend everything else is all right and the focus is right on them.
He bites her and she hisses, but at least she's treated to the pretty delightful sight that is Shirtless Chuck. Quite a perfect specimen of a man, she notes, scars and all; reminds her of the burns she'd received during Anchorage, the burns that still mark her so clearly now. Her smile flickers, just a little, before she's moving to pull him down for another kiss, hands coming up to splay over his chest, to study his scars and map them out in her memory. Funny, she's never been this self-conscious before.
Then again, she's never been naked with anyone before -- well, after Anchorage. ] ...Later.
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Because he likes fighting with her, he likes pushing and pushing until she pushes back because she pushes back hard and so few people can actually keep up with him enough to do that.
But anyway, her shirt is still and what the fuck, Becket? Why later? Why not right now?]
What are you waiting for?
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The guy probably wouldn't understand -- and she's not up for a rehash of how she and her brother were what got the Jaeger Project canceled. She watches him tense, and oh, how she understands. They carry the weight of the war with them, and it doesn't go away just because it's all over. ] Let's play a game where you put that mouth to better use.
[ it doesn't take her long to push him back onto her bed, her lips finding the scar at his collarbone, tongue lapping delicately over the sensitive scar tissue. How's that for a distraction? ]
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Seriously, what the fuck, why is she being like this? This isn't a one way street and he's not a sex doll.]
Becket--[Chuck growls at her, twisting them so he's back on top.] What the hell?
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-- it really sort of irritates her how he inspires the strangest feelings from her, too. ] It's not something you want to see.
[ She says finally, decides to just take the bull by the damn horns and pulls her shirt over her head. She doesn't let go of the shirt, her expression tense and unreadable but fixed on his face; if those circuit burns pretty much kill the mood entirely then... well.
Then that's it. There it is, the vivid scars spanning her shoulder, her chest, the burns snaking over under the bra. ]
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Actually-- maybe he doesn't want to know how much of an asshole she thinks he is.
Chuck moved to give her the space to pull the shirt off, sitting back on his heels even as he's straddling one of her legs and he stays there for a moment, just looking down at her. He's not about to sprout some flowery shit at her, and call her scars beautiful and a part of her and whatever the fuck else but he's hardly turned off.
Fair's fair, he showed her his and now that she's shown him hers, he leans down to trace the lines along her shoulder and chest with his mouth.]
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It's not beautiful, and the flowery shit probably would kill the mood because it's not Chuck's style and if she wanted that she'd sleep with someone else and she likes his brand of honesty even if she's surprised at that particular response. Raleigh is wrong about him in a few little ways, and when she watches him lean down over her, the touch of his lips over sensitive skin, she shudders under him, a part of her startled by his response and the other part ridiculously turned on.
Her hand comes to rest on his shoulder, over one of his scars, too, her thumb rubbing lightly over it; and she doesn't find it ugly, not really. ]
...It's weird, you know.
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Is it weird? He has no idea. He can't see why it would be weird that he doesn't judge her scars because wouldn't that make him pretty hypocritical? They both have scars from being pilots and that's just how it fucking is, stop trying to make something out of nothing, Becket.]
No. It isn't.
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That's fine with her, too, they don't have to talk; they're not very good at it, even if Raleigh's the more forthcoming out of the both of them when it comes to this sort of thing. She says nothing more, simply tips his face up to hers, pressing her mouth to his in a heated, scorching kiss; hands roaming and touching, enjoying the feel of him under her touch. He's solidly built, strong, nearly 180 pounds of muscle -- quite the sort of man Raleigh's liked.
No more talking. She exhales quietly when the kiss eases, cupping his face and pressing her lips lightly against the scar on his shoulder. ]
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Maybe it makes him an asshole but he trained Max to be pretty well behaved and Raleigh's well on her way to being at the same level as his bulldog.
She's definitely got a weird obsession with scars, both his and hers but he can pretend like he doesn't notice, if she doesn't talk about it. He wouldn't have thought that her kissing his scars would be as sexy as it is, and he can't really stop the shudder that rolls through him when she does it.]
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She straddles his waist, a smug expression flickering on her face because she saw that -- so he likes when she kisses his scars, doesn't he? So she keeps doing that, to a particularly ugly one splayed over his chest while tucking her hair back behind her ear. Sexy? Hell, yeah it's sexy that he's so affected by it. ] I wondered what would make you tick.
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Chuck lets out a sharp breath of air when she flips them (it's not a gasp, it's not, it's not, it's not) and settles his hands on her thighs. Maybe he does like it, maybe he also doesn't want to talk about it or think about it too hard because that would be the same as thinking and talking about how no one's ever touched his scars and not run the other way.
And he does not need Raleigh Becket's acceptance. He doesn't.]
Raleigh. Your mouth can do things besides talk.
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Yes, yes it is. It's a gasp and it sounds so good and she's grinning above him because damn, Chuck. You like it when your girls take control, and Raleigh's learning that. She's touching his scars and definitely not running the other way -- she's admiring him and really, Chuck's a whole lot more endearing when he isn't talking. ]
Yeah? [ She baits, because she likes talking and you're not going to stop her, Chuckles. ] What're those other things? [ Hands, roaming to places, splayed over his stomach, her thumb gently rubbing over the sensitive scar tissue there, too. ]
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She really talks too fucking much though. Chuck is tempted to grab a fistful of her hair and push her head lower because that, that is something she could do with her mouth that isn't talking. But-- she's also capable of kicking his ass and he actually respects her more than that. She's not a stupid Jaeger fly, she's not here because he's famous and she gets bragging rights with her friends for sleeping with him.
Chuck doesn't really know what she's doing here but he knows it's not that.
He does grab the back of her head though, twisting his fingers in her hair but he pulls her up instead, bringing their mouths together in a harsh kiss. There, that's something that's not talking.]
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They don't talk about why she's here, or why he is, except that it is what it is and for the time being he's hers. Funny how that works, that she's a fucking cougar or some shit, and worse, it's with Chuck; but at this point she doesn't care. She likes him, he drives her nuts but she likes him, live with it. ]
...Why are you still wearing pants?
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She is a cougar and if Chuck were a normal boy with normal friends, he'd totally get high fives for bagging an older woman, but he's not and he'd be willing to bet that he's actually more experienced than she is. Not that she isn't talented and he doesn't like what she's doing but she's got relationship girl written all over her.
And he just-- doesn't do those.]
Take them off yourself if you're going to be so pushy.
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Raleigh makes a low, frustrated noise under her breath; and a part of her definitely likes how he challenges her, how he pushes her to push back, to fight him every step of the way.
Her fingers undo his belt, tugging it loose before she drops it over the edge. But she doesn't move further -- what he does, however, is to trace lazy patterns over his hipbone, before pressing a slow, lazy kiss to it. ]
You definitely got some of these scars outside of a Jaeger.
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Why is he trying to do that?
This time, Chuck does push her lower.]
Don't see how that fucking matters.
TIMESKIP
The rest of it's pretty much sex with her pinning him down and riding him and it's nearly an hour and a half later before they're finished with a thoroughly satisfying session. Raleigh rolls over on her stomach beside him, lazy and happy and sleepy. ]