When Ted feels the urge to lick Allegra's bio-port, he loses himself in it completely. Frames her hips gently with his hands, leans in, eyes drifting closed. The tip of his tongue touches her hole (this particular hole, there are others— but that's an idea to be considered at another time, perhaps, if he's very lucky—) and he might as well not be kneeling on the grungy floor of a back room in a game shop that doesn't even really exist. He could be anywhere, or nowhere at all.
Allegra jerks at first, perhaps in surprise (you think this might be surprising? a voice somewhere at the back of his head comments, but it's very far away, too far away for him to listen to right now). He hears her breath flutter, then the muscles of her back soften, and she turns on a sigh, languid and smooth. He finds himself with his mouth still open, looking up at her, as her hands gently drift onto his face and hair.
"Pikul, what the hell?" she murmurs, her voice shaky. Ted doesn't understand what he's feeling, moved by forces beyond his comprehension, but whatever it is, she's feeling it too.
"That was... my game character?" Ted guesses. "I wouldn't have done that." He's not entirely sure that's true. "Not here, anyway," he adds—that's a little more true.
"Yeah," Allegra agrees, her voice still breathy. "Our characters are obviously... supposed to..." Her voice trails off as she leans down and kisses him deeply instead, her lips dragging wetly across his, fingers tightening in his hair. Her meaning does seem pretty clear, even if she didn't finish actually saying it. "No use fighting it," she says once she comes up for air.
"No. I mean, yeah. You're right," Ted stammers. It feels imperative that this doesn't stop, and he stumbles over the words, trying to find the right answer that will allow this to continue.
His fingers are tracing the bio-port in her back, moving in circles, around and around, smoothed by the lube left over from inserting the micro-pod. It feels... not like an asshole, really—although it's probably impossible to avoid thinking about them in comparison with each other, given the placement. This stays open, all the time. Always ready for... something to go in.
Just as he's nudging his fingertip in right now, actually. Just a little. He's not sure how he should touch—can this possibly feel good, to her? But then he's only touching her with his finger and he feels breathless, so—
Allegra groans and thrusts her hips forward, rubbing the front of her skirt across his face. So good. That does answer one question. She is enjoying this.
As her hips move back, pressing her port back against his fingertip again, she grins and says, "You don't even really know what you're doing with this thing, do ya?" Her face is pure Allegra—no inhabiting a game character now. "Never fucked someone with a port before?"
"I mean. Yeah. Most people have ports. But—"
"But you never did anything with them. You had sex the old-fashioned way." She must see how his face has fallen, because she continues, "I mean, you're doing all right. But you really don't know how it feels from this side." She swings her hips back again in emphasis, and his fingertip slips out of her bio-port, tracing more widely around it on her back.
Ted is helpless before her. All he can say is: "You're right."
"You wanna find out?"
Does Ted's mouth feel dry—or like it's about to overflow with saliva?
"Or, no. You have that phobia. About having your body penetrated." Allegra's grin turns viciously teasing and she continues only after an uncomfortably long pause. "Surgically."
Ted closes his eyes and lets out a breath. Once he admits this to her, he knows what he's letting himself in for. A wild ride. "Yes. And... not just surgically. Also. Sexually." His eyes clench shut even tighter. Yes, he told her he had a phobia of having a port put in, and then he did it for her anyway. Twice. He knows where this road goes—and it's absolutely anywhere she wants to lead him. He'll see her smile under the lights in whatever shithole or hideout or rendered background they're in and he won't be able to remember the words to argue with her. Not and stick to them.
He opens his eyes to her again and knows that she sees his surrender to her. She's alight with it, as if he has unexpectedly presented her with the perfect gift, and she's delighted to be considering all the things she's going to do with it. With him.
The indistinct noises he's been hearing in the background suddenly resolve into the sound of footsteps somewhere down the hallway. He can hardly bear to tear his eyes away from her, but he glances toward the open doorway anyway. He can't ignore his concern about what may happen if someone appears there—some other game character with a task they'll have to do, or a plot point they'll have to react to.
Someone who could see them. See what they're doing together.
Would a game character even… be able to watch them? See what they're doing, understand it, react to it? Would Allegra have coded in a response for them to make to that kind of input? Would she have thought of that ahead of time, perhaps imagined doing exactly this inside the game she'd created, controlling the reactions of everyone around her? And how would she want them to respond, these game characters who might catch sight of them wrapped up in each other?
Or would the game character just stand in the doorway, stuck, not really seeing them, and unable to do anything until they gave him an input he could react to?
His mouth twists with worry, and his hands have—somehow, incredibly—drifted away from Allegra's skin. He realizes when she turns his attention back to her with a sharp tug to his hair. She glances toward the doorway too, then back to him, frowning down at him thoughtfully.
"Hm. You said you wouldn't want to do it in here. Will you do it out there?" She flicks her eyes upwards, glancing towards the ceiling—a gesture Ted is sure is made for his benefit, as it's surely meaningless to consider the world they just came from as lying in any particular direction.
He considers. In game, or out? Would it be better, or worse? He's afraid to test any boundaries very far here in a game-world that runs on logic he doesn't yet understand. But would what they do in here be less real? More safe? If they emerge from the game, will they even still feel this same surging command from their bodies, back in another world? Or will what could have been shrivel between them, with a taste somewhere between regret and relief?
"What would happen if—is it even safe to do this here? What if someone comes back, or something happens in the game and we have to do something—can we pause the game so we won't be interrupted?"
But the end of the sentence dissolves away from him even as he speaks, and suddenly he's lying on the bed with the red bedspread again. In the chalet.
Allegra is lying there too, but it's wrenchingly disconcerting to him that they're no longer touching, when they were just so close to each other, and they never moved apart.
Allegra's eyes open, find his. "What happened?" he asks her. His lips feel chapped. He wants to feel the wetness of her mouth on them again. (So the urge did travel with them when they emerged, then. Or with him, anyway.)
"I told you, the game runs off your body. It responds to your thoughts, your emotions." She raises herself up and clambers over to him, entwining his fingers with hers as she holds herself above him. Presses his hands into the bed. "You must have been feeling pretty strongly when you said 'pause the game,' because, what do you know—it paused." She looks down at him consideringly. "So, now that we're here. Are you going to let me at you?"
He looks up into her eyes, then his gaze flicks to the hollow of her throat. To her hair where it falls around her face—now in alternating waves and flat sheets, where a moment ago it was all curls. She's in pants again too, now, and he would have still liked to get his hands up under her short skirt—but here they are, and yes he wants it even when they're here. And apparently she still wants it too. "Yeah," he says hoarsely. "I'm gonna let you do anything you want with me."
Her face sparkles like an arcing wire as she guides him to lie on his side, and she lies down facing him. She pulls his shirt up in the back and starts touching him there. "Now you do what I do," she instructs, "and I'll show you just how I like it. And if you're not a total stick-in-the-mud—" she rolls her eyes "—you'll like some of it, too."
When she starts to... finger his port, yes—she laughs at the look on his face. He's not sure about it. It feels sensitive, and vulnerable, open—but it feels more like someone digging a finger around in his navel than anything sexual. Where is the pleasure in this? If this is how he made her feel when he touched her port, she'd have recoiled across the room, not thrust against his face.
Allegra eases up a bit, starts only drawing her finger over the edges of his port—slightly in, then slightly out, moving her way around the circle like a clock face—as she licks equally tiny kisses over the edges of his lips, barely pursing her lips against his and releasing them in a slow line from one side to the other. It's more comfortable like this, if not exactly exciting yet—it warms him up slowly, like slipping into a bathtub.
When she reaches up to his chest with her other hand and grazes against his nipple, it's like a circuit closing. Suddenly all the pieces are aligned, and the direction everything points to is yes. His hips jerk and he gasps against her lips, and she answers with a low snicker. "There you go!" she says, sounding pleased. He wants to please her.
"Now you do your part," she reminds him, and he appreciates the reminder—he reaches around her and scrabbles his way up the back of her shirt and tries to mimic what she's doing to him, as she varies and changes her touches in a kaleidoscope of unexpected feeling. It feels so good he can barely concentrate, and he's so much clumsier than she is. "Get it together, Pikul!" she snarls at one point, grabbing his arm and trying to reposition it how she really wants it. He tries, he does, but it keeps slipping away from him, and he loses track of things until Allegra's mouth bends toward dissatisfaction again, showing teeth. He gets himself back into line again and again, trying his best to follow along in the path she's laying down for him.
She's leading him where he wants to go, and finally he's helplessly thrusting against her—and she matches him; they're thrusting hard against each other now, still in all their clothes, only a bare stripe along each of their backs exposed. He's breathing so hard and fast his throat is dry, and he's making all kinds of unspeakable noises, still trying his best to follow where she leads—until he loses control of his breath and his fingers and all the rest of his body and presses her against the bed with his thrusting, helplessly, helplessly, until he comes and loses the world along with everything else.
Distantly he can feel her clinging to him with her arms and legs, still thrusting up against the weight of him, at least one fingernail digging painfully into the edge of his bio-port as she seeks her own finish with all the relish and single-minded dedication of a born hunter.
Afterward, when Allegra flicks the pod again, that roundness of it in the shape of either a very huge nipple or a very small breast, Ted shivers as though he can feel it on his own skin. He knows what her fingers feel like now, intimately.
She flicks the pod to send them back into the game again, and he barely has time to gasp at the motion before he feels that other level of game-reality start to rise up around them. He loses his own breath somewhere along with his body, back there, far away from him now, but follows Allegra's smile—that enticing knife-sharp flicker of wildness that he knows he'll find just the same, no matter what new level of reality he follows her to, however high or deep they go. He's along for the ride.