He's done so well to resist - everything that it doesn't seem fair to come here and have temptation thrust at his every movement. This place is drowning in alcohol. In sin. And now, with Carol here, her hand on his.
But - -
Surely - surely this isn't so terrible. It's not like he's been abstaining since meeting his brother again. There had been so many before...
He can talk himself into anything if he tries hard enough.
He relaxes as those thoughts run through his head, adjusting his shirt though he doesn't button it quite yet. Instead, he gives her a reassuring smile, placing a hand on her cheek and stepping forward, close to her. "It will be sweeter, will it not, to wait just a while?"
"Aw, you know I like it sweet," she says with a coy little smile as she leans into his touch, and if he didn't know that then the big bowl of candy on the side table - one of the few non-prison possessions she brought with her - should be enough of a giveaway.
She gets up on her tiptoes just long enough to give him a quick peck on the cheek. If by some chance there's a verse in the Bible that prohibits cheek kissing then she gives the fuck up, but she doesn't remember anything about that from the few times she paid attention in church.
"It's late, so I guess you should go soon," she says, now that her hopes for a 'sleepover' aren't panning out and John ought to go hide that shiv in his cabin before the morning rush takes over the hallways anyway, "But - I like you. I wanna keep seeing you."
He warms at the kiss and starts to button his shirt as she talks, but he takes his time. The sleepover might not happen, but it doesn't mean that he's exactly eager to cut and run. He's going to take his time. Enjoy her presence.
"I'd like that. Breakfast is always a lighter affair. Why don't you come by my cabin one morning? We can bring something from the dining hall? Eat together?"
The buttons done, he tucks in his shirt, picks up the shiv again, slides it against his arm, fastens it tightly to his skin to keep it safe. It's a sacred thing.
She might kick herself for it when she still wakes up at 6 AM - breakfast time back in Litchfield, so she wakes up at that time like clockwork now - but if he still wants to linger she sure as hell won't rush him away.
"That sounds great," she says, bouncing up and down on her heels, "Do you think they have chocolate chip pancakes? With whipped cream and sprinkles on top?"
Her favorite breakfast that, of course, was never on the prison menu. Closest she got was stale, plain pancakes with the extra syrup the inmates on kitchen staff were kind (and scared) enough to give her. The fact that she could still radiate anger while enjoying pancakes was just a special gift she had.
"I don't know," he laughs, finishing getting dressed and looping an arm around her shoulders in a final embrace before his intent to go, strangely charmed by the request. Carol, all hard edges, asking for something so frivolous. It's adorable in a way that catches John completely off guard.
"Maybe they'll let us make it for ourselves one day, after everyone's gone," he suggests. "Or maybe we can convince a warden to let us have their kitchen. I've met one who seems like he's willing to let me do anything. He gave me a whole first aid kit, water bottle. I asked for the Bliss, the last thing I need, but - " He sighs.
"That might not work. I may need to rely on Norton for it."
He's namedropping now, trusting her in a way that he hasn't before.
How long had it been since anyone hugged her? Five years, at least. The last hug was probably from her mother a few days before the murder, which she is quite sure she rejected with crossed arms and an eye roll. This hug, on the other hand, she accepts with enthusiasm. She leans into the embrace, arm around his waist as she squeezes in close before pulling away, her smile big and beaming.
"You found Norton, too? He's reliable," she says, "Probably the first one I set my sights on recruiting here."
Whatever John and Norton have going on isn't a conflict of interest with her gang business, she decides, mostly because as far as she's concerned John is already part of her crew. If anything, it just means that he shares her good taste in finding people to trust.
The question about Bliss can wait. When she pulls away, he straightens his shirt, pushes fingers through his his hair, and then tries to meet her gaze. "Norton is not reliable," he tells her firmly. Norton's wrapped up in his Pride, and Pride is a dangerous sin. It's unpredictable. Pride leads people to do selfish, selfish things. He understands Wrath. Wrath is easy. Wrath is simple. Even its cousin Lust, both primal desires, wrapped up and locked tightly, can be predicted.
But Pride? Pride will bite every hand to save itself.
"He is useful," he tells her softly, using a tone that she might not recognize from him. It's sharp. Intelligent. Clever. He's not simply the poor religious boy with a bit of a sadist streak. He's letting her into something here, trusting her with the knowledge of who he is and what exactly he can do.
"Be very careful with him. Do not give him more than he gives you, sister. And do not promise him anything you aren't willing to take back."
Her playful demeanor changes in a split second as she stands up straight and regards him seriously, her lips pursed into a frown. It's like all the warmth has been sucked out of the room; she likes being able to relax a little around John and have some fun, but at the end of the day she's still a businesswoman, a ruthless leader, and she'll be serious when serious talk is happening. The last thing she wants John - or anyone here, really - to think is that she's some manic sugar-high child whose power comes solely from her willingness to stab.
"Useful is a better word," she agrees after taking a moment to think about it, "I should've guessed you'd know how to spot a snake."
She knows approximately five Bible references and is absolutely going to milk them for all that they're worth. That's not so say she's decided to discard Norton or even insult him; snakes can be plenty useful and so long as she can make herself the most appealing possible option, self-interested people will work their asses off for her. Sometimes even more so than selfless types.
"I value your advice, John. I always will."
Which is to say: she's picked up on his change in tone and is aware that he may not speak this frankly with everyone, and appreciates that he's doing it with her.
A snake. Yes. Norton is a snake. And one that John intends on coiling up and wrapping around his own right hand. Perhaps between them, they can tame him. Perhaps the two of them can handle him. "He is Pride," he tells her honestly, taking her hands. Ever since she touched him, ever since she asked to see his sins, his bare skin, any barrier between them has shattered. He's comfortable with touching her now. With holding fast to her. With keeping her close.
"Pride is dangerous. Pride and Envy will choke the life out of everyone they come across, simply because they can," he warns her. "He's been Marked, same as you. But he'll be Cleansed. And he'll Confess," he says, though it comes out as more of a purr. "And we'll see what he's like on the other side. No one's the same after Confession."
He straightens up. "It's late. But - thank you." And he means for more than the shiv.
She holds tight to him, not wanting to surrender once again to the cold isolation of her cell. But she can't seem desperate like that, she has to let him go.
"I look forward to seeing that," she says, a small smile returning to her face, "You're welcome. I look after my own."
Which is to say, she's marked him too in her own, less official way.
John feels the same way. He's used to having people constantly around him. And his home is warm and comfortable, but it's not the same. Still, asking for company is asking for trouble because he knows what the answer will be.
But he can ask -
"Kiss me," he tells her. "At least let me leave you with that."
She puts her lit cigarette out on her pant leg and drops it on the floor. It wasn't quite spent yet, but oh well, who gives a fuck about that right now? After that, she doesn't hesitate and if he was expecting something sweet and gentle he was going to be disappointed. She flings her arms around his neck and tugs herself towards him, kissing him rough and messy, with a little too much force and as much teeth and tongue as there were lips.
She's elated, her heart pounding like a drum, but there's still something angry in her kisses. There's something angry in all of her, whether she's consciously feeling it or not. She's not a snake but she's still a wild thing that's been caged all too long. But beneath all of that there's real passion; that inner fire of hers that drew people in like moths.
He barely has time to throw out his arm, the one not concealing the blade and holding the cigarette, before she has her arms around his neck. His free arm is wrapped around her waist, holding her close, not even bothering to contain her. He lets that anger control her, following her lead, meeting teeth and tongue with his own.
Why would he expect sweetness and tenderness from her?
Why would she expect it from him in return?
His fingertips curl into her back, dig into her skin a bit, and he'll pull away only when she wants to. Sucrose and cigarettes taste meets mint toothpaste and the biting scent of sandalwood and leather from beard oil and shampoo, and he sighs against her.
She relishes this moment, all of it: the way he meets her level of...well, let's call it 'enthusiasm', the way his fingertips dig into her back, the feeling of his beard against her face, the way he smelled rugged and yet refined all at once.
Maybe it's a good thing that he'd rather take it slow. She can't let herself get stupid for someone again, not after Frieda, and god if he fucked her right now she doesn't know if she could keep herself from falling too hard.
She gradually slows her pace, letting her lips just rest against his for the final few seconds before she pulls away. If she went at it too much longer she was going to end up frustrated with too much pent-up desire again. She leans back and slides off of him, crossing her arms in front of her chest and smiling back up at him.
"Fuuuck," she says, her voice low and husky, "Oh, I love a man who's not afraid to get rough."
Not that anything about John said he'd shy away from roughness but the confirmation was nice.
John lets her burn herself out on it, not particularly picky about it. Experience has never been a problem for him and he doesn't mind a little patience here and there. Enthusiasm and passion more than makes up for any shortcomings anywhere else.
His laugh is low and deep, right from his chest, and he drops his arm from around her. The temptation is there, to stay, to drag her onto her bed, to invite her back to his, but he refrains. Instead, he forces himself to walk away because he has to. There's something so freeing about avoiding this temptation.
"Good night," he tells her, heading for the door and out, drawing the cigarette to his lips again. He's already planning how to atone for the sins committed tonight, but he's absolutely prepared for it. It won't be the last time he has to. Not as long as Carol's around.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2021-08-31 02:59 am (UTC)But - -
Surely - surely this isn't so terrible. It's not like he's been abstaining since meeting his brother again. There had been so many before...
He can talk himself into anything if he tries hard enough.
He relaxes as those thoughts run through his head, adjusting his shirt though he doesn't button it quite yet. Instead, he gives her a reassuring smile, placing a hand on her cheek and stepping forward, close to her. "It will be sweeter, will it not, to wait just a while?"
no subject
Date: 2021-08-31 04:17 am (UTC)She gets up on her tiptoes just long enough to give him a quick peck on the cheek. If by some chance there's a verse in the Bible that prohibits cheek kissing then she gives the fuck up, but she doesn't remember anything about that from the few times she paid attention in church.
"It's late, so I guess you should go soon," she says, now that her hopes for a 'sleepover' aren't panning out and John ought to go hide that shiv in his cabin before the morning rush takes over the hallways anyway, "But - I like you. I wanna keep seeing you."
no subject
Date: 2021-08-31 04:22 am (UTC)"I'd like that. Breakfast is always a lighter affair. Why don't you come by my cabin one morning? We can bring something from the dining hall? Eat together?"
The buttons done, he tucks in his shirt, picks up the shiv again, slides it against his arm, fastens it tightly to his skin to keep it safe. It's a sacred thing.
no subject
Date: 2021-08-31 04:41 am (UTC)"That sounds great," she says, bouncing up and down on her heels, "Do you think they have chocolate chip pancakes? With whipped cream and sprinkles on top?"
Her favorite breakfast that, of course, was never on the prison menu. Closest she got was stale, plain pancakes with the extra syrup the inmates on kitchen staff were kind (and scared) enough to give her. The fact that she could still radiate anger while enjoying pancakes was just a special gift she had.
no subject
Date: 2021-08-31 12:05 pm (UTC)"Maybe they'll let us make it for ourselves one day, after everyone's gone," he suggests. "Or maybe we can convince a warden to let us have their kitchen. I've met one who seems like he's willing to let me do anything. He gave me a whole first aid kit, water bottle. I asked for the Bliss, the last thing I need, but - " He sighs.
"That might not work. I may need to rely on Norton for it."
He's namedropping now, trusting her in a way that he hasn't before.
no subject
Date: 2021-08-31 08:00 pm (UTC)"You found Norton, too? He's reliable," she says, "Probably the first one I set my sights on recruiting here."
Whatever John and Norton have going on isn't a conflict of interest with her gang business, she decides, mostly because as far as she's concerned John is already part of her crew. If anything, it just means that he shares her good taste in finding people to trust.
"What's Bliss?"
no subject
Date: 2021-08-31 08:09 pm (UTC)But Pride? Pride will bite every hand to save itself.
"He is useful," he tells her softly, using a tone that she might not recognize from him. It's sharp. Intelligent. Clever. He's not simply the poor religious boy with a bit of a sadist streak. He's letting her into something here, trusting her with the knowledge of who he is and what exactly he can do.
"Be very careful with him. Do not give him more than he gives you, sister. And do not promise him anything you aren't willing to take back."
no subject
Date: 2021-08-31 10:54 pm (UTC)"Useful is a better word," she agrees after taking a moment to think about it, "I should've guessed you'd know how to spot a snake."
She knows approximately five Bible references and is absolutely going to milk them for all that they're worth. That's not so say she's decided to discard Norton or even insult him; snakes can be plenty useful and so long as she can make herself the most appealing possible option, self-interested people will work their asses off for her. Sometimes even more so than selfless types.
"I value your advice, John. I always will."
Which is to say: she's picked up on his change in tone and is aware that he may not speak this frankly with everyone, and appreciates that he's doing it with her.
no subject
Date: 2021-08-31 11:06 pm (UTC)"Pride is dangerous. Pride and Envy will choke the life out of everyone they come across, simply because they can," he warns her. "He's been Marked, same as you. But he'll be Cleansed. And he'll Confess," he says, though it comes out as more of a purr. "And we'll see what he's like on the other side. No one's the same after Confession."
He straightens up. "It's late. But - thank you." And he means for more than the shiv.
no subject
Date: 2021-08-31 11:37 pm (UTC)"I look forward to seeing that," she says, a small smile returning to her face, "You're welcome. I look after my own."
Which is to say, she's marked him too in her own, less official way.
no subject
Date: 2021-08-31 11:43 pm (UTC)But he can ask -
"Kiss me," he tells her. "At least let me leave you with that."
no subject
Date: 2021-09-01 12:12 am (UTC)She's elated, her heart pounding like a drum, but there's still something angry in her kisses. There's something angry in all of her, whether she's consciously feeling it or not. She's not a snake but she's still a wild thing that's been caged all too long. But beneath all of that there's real passion; that inner fire of hers that drew people in like moths.
She tastes like tobacco and cherry lollipops.
no subject
Date: 2021-09-01 12:41 am (UTC)Why would he expect sweetness and tenderness from her?
Why would she expect it from him in return?
His fingertips curl into her back, dig into her skin a bit, and he'll pull away only when she wants to. Sucrose and cigarettes taste meets mint toothpaste and the biting scent of sandalwood and leather from beard oil and shampoo, and he sighs against her.
no subject
Date: 2021-09-01 02:59 am (UTC)Maybe it's a good thing that he'd rather take it slow. She can't let herself get stupid for someone again, not after Frieda, and god if he fucked her right now she doesn't know if she could keep herself from falling too hard.
She gradually slows her pace, letting her lips just rest against his for the final few seconds before she pulls away. If she went at it too much longer she was going to end up frustrated with too much pent-up desire again. She leans back and slides off of him, crossing her arms in front of her chest and smiling back up at him.
"Fuuuck," she says, her voice low and husky, "Oh, I love a man who's not afraid to get rough."
Not that anything about John said he'd shy away from roughness but the confirmation was nice.
no subject
Date: 2021-09-01 03:10 am (UTC)His laugh is low and deep, right from his chest, and he drops his arm from around her. The temptation is there, to stay, to drag her onto her bed, to invite her back to his, but he refrains. Instead, he forces himself to walk away because he has to. There's something so freeing about avoiding this temptation.
"Good night," he tells her, heading for the door and out, drawing the cigarette to his lips again. He's already planning how to atone for the sins committed tonight, but he's absolutely prepared for it. It won't be the last time he has to. Not as long as Carol's around.