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[Johanna likes control, and sometimes she likes to be controlled--but more than anything she likes the loss of control, not in herself, but in others. The eager press of Kate against her, the grip of her hands and the heat of her voice, of the kiss that she presses to her mouth--sloppy, hungry, so eager that Johanna barely has time to breathe, but she doesn't care. She returns the kiss in full force, her neck twisted, one arm bent back to hold to Kate, a grip in her hair that twists, too.

And when they draw apart, she can't help it--she gasps, first, sucks in a breath, and then she laughs, lazy and pleased.]

Today.

[More of a challenge than a question, and before Kate has time to take it back, or rethink it, she moves right on, her gaze colored dark and her voice rough with desire--]

Then get in front of me. Come here.

[ Done. Johanna laughs and Kate grins, nevermind how twined up they are, how uncomfortable this position should be. It's fixed in a second anyway, when she lets go and slips out from behind Johanna, still without argument or obstinance. She's all eagerness, to comply, to press Johanna back, a forearm braced against tile at her side but doing nothing to keep space between them.

The shower pours down the wall, cascading off heads and shoulders. Kate makes enough room for her arm and a trickle of hot water and no more, fingers pressed back between Johanna's legs without delay, even as she's still arranging their knees and hips to fit comfortably together.

She wants another kiss but waits, ghosting one past Johanna's jaw, nosing at her cheek. ] And?

And.

[It's just shy of a growl when she repeats it, breathless, laced with its own sense of need. Her head tips to one side, accommodating Kate's shift against her cheek. It moves her out from beneath the steady spray of the showerhead. Good. The thrum of her heartbeat is only from the close press of Kate, the fingers thrust between her legs. No thought of the water, of the sizzle of electricity. What better way to get over this than to fuck in a shower? A literal sort of fuck you to anxiety, to the Capitol, to President fucking Snow. This is a different kind of show, and the best part is, no one's watching. This is for her. Her head tipped back against the tile wall, Johanna smiles up at the ceiling, at the ship, at nothing and no one.

Her breath catches a little at the push of Kate's fingers. One arm--languid, rubbery--come up, hand dragged along Kate's side, tracing idle patterns against her bare skin before she grips hard, without warning, shoves down on her arm to push more of her fingertips against her.]

Kiss me. [Through her teeth, too savage to be a grin.] And then fuck me. Fingers first. Come on, Katie--

(The ship is watching. The ship is always watching. Why do you think Smiley is smiling?)

[ ENJOY, SMILEY ]

[ :)

Kate laughs against Johanna's jaw, the sound wet from her mouth open around the bone of it, from the water dripping down her face. ] So impatient, [ she chides, with a sharp thrust of her fingers as both punctuation and obedience. She lets Johanna maneuver her hand where she wants it and tips her head to chase that kiss, hard enough to mash lips and knock teeth together when they meet.

Usually when she's got Johanna pinned like this that's when she'll tease-- which is probably at least half why it's a rare occurrence-- but that little retort is all there is today. After that it's quick and hard, just how she likes it, all the bits of feedback and preference Kate's picked up put to use. Three fingers and a kiss that drives her head back against the tile and lasts until they're both gasping for air.

Kate's got teeth in her throat almost before she has her breath back. ]

Did people ever call you Jo?

Edited (fixin HI SMILEY) 2015-01-01 05:25 (UTC)

[It's a good thing for Kate that she opts not to tease, that she gives Johanna just what she wants, when she wants it. The firm authority in which Johanna pushes at her hand could immediately turn to something fiercer, if pushed--could, and would. She might bite if she's not given what she wants, and that would end badly.

But Kate doesn't tease, doesn't hold back. She thrusts her fingers, in, and Johanna makes a sound that might be a moan, if it didn't come through her teeth. Her head hits the wall; Kate's mouth covers hers, teeth and tongue and lips, and when they break apart, at last, Johanna's breath is ragged, uneven, as she thrusts herself right back against Kate's fingers, nearly stood on her toes to get the right angle. One hand grips at Kate's shoulder, steadying herself, as she arches against her, again, and again--

The question is so normal, even in Kate's own uneven tone. Johanna laughs, a sound that's just as ragged.]

No. [Still heated, still fucking herself against Kate's fingers, she answers, her head lolled back against the wall.] No, they-- didn't. Don't. And if you start--

[God, why are they talking; she lifts her head, just enough so that she can glare at Kate--wet, and flushed, and still managing to look a little angry--]

If you start, I'm dropping you. Now stop-- talking--

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