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Eyes don't have freckles. [ This is not the first time Kate has said this. She is no less adamant now than the first time. Maybe a little more adamant, but only a little bit, in the way she enunciates, the careful space she puts between the words. There's some effort in it, both for emphasis and simple clarity because yeah, she's drunk.

They were supposed to be watching All My Universes but Kate has already seen this episode and the lack of a coffee table to put her feet on has necessitated rearranging on the couch, legs draped across Sirius, twisted awkwardly to put her back against the cushion and Remus's shoulder. It wasn't that comfortable but hasn't lasted long anyway, not with Sirius sprawling over to poke at faces. She's got an arm half around him since he's somehow in her lap now and where else is it meant to go? and has been tilted by his weight until she's basically in Remus's lap as well, a slow inexorable fall back halted by into leaning against his chest.

She's craning her neck to look up at the cheek patting and alleged (but definitely non-existent) freckle. ]

Who should? Are you talking to yourself or to me or about yourself or the freckle or Remus? [ So many options, so little clarity. ]

Merlin.

[ Not a lot of inherent clarity in that sentence, no, but Remus isn't drunk enough to not know what Sirius means. He's only drunk enough that that Merlin doesn't sound too put out. More of a sigh, while he lolls his head back in search of the back of the sofa—no luck, he's too tall—and mutters something that's mostly incoherent but definitely includes the words Mary Abbey.

He hefts his very heavy head back into an upright position and looks down at Kate, who he's sort of cradling, one-armed, entirely unintentionally. He hasn't been given much choice. He also isn't really thinking about it. He's mostly thinking about eye freckles and now nice it would be to take a nap. And now kissing: ]

Sirius can't kiss me or my freckle, [ he says. ] My poor heart couldn't take it.

[ Really, his heart would be fine. Remus knows what it's like to end up with his face mashed into Sirius' armpit after several days sans showers. That doesn't entirely counterbalance the cheekbones, all on its own, but it certainly goes a long way.

Kate's armpits probably smell nice. Remus is, again, not quite drunk enough to ask, but drunk enough to laugh almost-silently to himself and duck his head down to kiss Kate neatly on the nose. ]

Oooh.

[Don't ask Sirius how he figures into to the tangled mass of drunken sofadwellers right now, because he couldn't quite say. Somewhere with Kate's arm half encircling him so, thus, somewhere semi removed from the kissing action, but still in a place to fondly observe. And he is well pleased.]

Very smooth. See, even when you're drunk you're co-ordted. I am proud, very proud.

[He reaches up to push a thumb against Kate's chin, turning her face upwards for a follow up.]

Again. If we're not watching All My Universe, I expect some kissing to go on to make up f't. I won't make any sound effects. D'you see the freckle now? It's just there. I like it. I always have.

Who's-- [ Kate's question is cut off and muffled by Remus's nose kiss. It's pretty adorable, and she's smiling when he pulls back, lips tugged into a fondly crooked curve. She reaches up to pat his cheek much like Sirius was doing a moment before but sort of forgets to take her hand back as she remembers her question. One memory at a time. ] Who's Mary Abbey?

[ Sirius turns her face with a finger nudge, and while Kate doesn't go in for the follow up he wants she's otherwise pretty pliable, easily maneuvered and propped in this comfortably weird tangle they'd ended up choosing. It's not just the alcohol, though she's pleasantly more-than-buzzed, in that happy middle ground where everything is warm and slow and just a little funny, not bleary, just a little soft focus at the edges. She's also just happy, thrilled to be wrapped up in a cozy knot of friendly limbs, to be sprawling over friends who are pleased to be furniture, too. She hadn't realized how much she'd been missing this sort of contact until now. ]

Why's he earned it? [ She demands this of Sirius instead of Remus, clearly blameless and no doubt ready to say he doesn't, anyway. She pokes Sirius's shoulder and lifts a brow. ] That's not how friends work, Sirius, you don't just earn up til kisses. And I don't see it.

[ Remus kicks at Sirius' legs, or tries, anyway. He mostly ends up nudging one of his knees with a calf. He's not smooth, is the message he is trying to convey with that knee, because that implies some sort of planning or goal, and also because he just isn't. ]

Girl, [ he tells Kate, eloquently, ] who Sirius and James [ and Peter, but it's easier to excise him, neat and clean, in conversation with people who wouldn't know any better anyway ] decided I ought to snog.

[ As if he isn't capable of choosing people to make out with himself. He is. They just have to be strangers he's never obligated to talk to again, is all. Nothing wrong with that. Especially when his experitmental exception to the rule tried to pummel Sirius' head in.

Not that Kate would ever go mad and attack anyone. Obviously.

Also obvious: he agrees he hasn't earned any kisses. He disagrees that his eye-freckle doesn't exist, though, and he scrunches his unfreckled eye shut and leans his head over Kate again to put it on display. ]

Freckle!

[--Sirius yells out, triumphantly, as Remus leans in close, and twists his arm around so he can point in the general eye freckley direction for Kate's benefit. See, there it is.]

Earned it for that alone, hasn't he. And also all of his-- good hard work, quiet labors of Support. And 'cos he's fit, is our Remus, just-- weird wrists. Bony. Sometimes chews on his pen nibs. Few other bad habits. But very clean, great hair--

[He uses the eye-freckle-pointing-finger to push up Kate's chin again, just a little.]

Mary Abbey was fit as well. But I like you better. Also a compelling argument. And he's already kissed you, eh! You owe him! She owes you.

[Remus, she owes you, and Remus owes Sirius as well, and that doesn't mean calf him in the knees again.]

Come onnnn. 'When last we left our intresp-- intrepid heroes, Captain Lupin had just kissed First Officer Kate Bishop, right on her cute cute nose. And....'

First of all, [ Kate begins, and it is with a finger raised both to forestall Sirius's list and to begin counting her own and to give his finger a shove off of her chin because hey cut that out now. She follows it up with a lazy hand sat on top of his hair, ruffling. ] first of all, I am definitely the Captain and he is the First Officer. Obviously. [ obviously ]

Second, there is no owing that's not a thing. Third he is kind of fit, isn't he? I was expecting bonier or squashier but it's actually very nice. [ she directs this at Sirius like poor Remus isn't right there hearing it and like she isn't patting somewhere around his sternum as she says it, still leaned in comfily against surprising abs.

She looks up without really moving much, peering at that eye again, skeptical still. She sort of feels obligated to keep up her denial at this point just on principle but, well. ] But maybe for the eye freckle. Since he has the universe's one and only eye freckle. It's like a unicorn. In your eye.

[ Remus spends most of this exchange frowning at his wrists and silently arguing that they're not weird—bony, sure, but very normal bones, as anyone can see by looking at them, due to how visible those bones are. At some point between cute cute nose and first of all, he finally feels prepared to make that argument aloud. He lifts one of his hands toward Sirius to illustrate, then is immediately distracted. ]

Cabin boy. I'm the cabin boy.

[ Kinky. Right?

He retracts his bony hand to rub his eyes, freckled and non-, and endures the ab-patting with a great deal of drunk patience. And also drunk enjoyment, really. Even Remus Lupin can't pretend to hate having pretty people discuss how fit he is, and there's something—I'd say something canine, but really just human—about having friends piled on and petting you that makes the weird, cold, time-twisty, metallic, nightmarish aspects of space seem not particularly horrible.

It's very nice. It's so nice that he forgets to pay attention for another bit, until he realises he might actually be getting kissed, and he squints at Sirius (too much helping) and then down at Kate. ]

What does that even—there are loads of unicorns. Loads.

Loads.

[--is Sirius' agreement, somewhat indignant. Unicorns are very real. They did whole lessons on unicorns. Boring old unicorns. Waste of bloody time.

Then again...]

Although if unicorn freckle is impetus to give you a kiss I dunno that you want to argue, mate. I bet she's fanastic. Kisser. Fantastic. Oi, Kate, look--

[Also easily distracted in the moment, Sirius twists around again to paw at Remus' abs as well. He is, blessedly, wearing a jumper and not a jumpsuit today, which should make this easier, but. Doesn't, because Sirius can't quite work out the hem of said jumper for any grand unveiling. He frowns at it, irritated for about two whole second before he stops fumbling and settles for more insistent pawing.]

Surprising muscles. [Another pat.] You don't expect 'em, but here they are. Sort of unfair and also unicorny. 'Cos whoever met a cabin boy with such surprising muscles, eh? Which can be your lead in. No owing. Just motivation. 'When last we left our intrepid Captain Kate she was looking over at her cabin boy Lupin who was so hard working and Supportive, and she was like, oooh, what surprising muscles you've got...'

[AND THEN, with another two pats to the abs for Remus as silent punctuation.]

Edited (jumpers ) 2015-04-22 19:09 (UTC)

[ Kate is laughing about cabin boy so it takes a second to sink in and then she does a double take. ] Wait, what do you mean there are loads? You've actually got unicorns? [ It is clear that they have actually got unicorns and that Kate feels this is unfair. Her mouth is open and top lip curling up in affront and everything.

Sirius is blathering and patting at Remus's apparently extant abs and Kate's hand joins his but she is rolling her eyes. But it stays there, palm pressed light against his stomach, fingertips caught in his sweater even as she's laughing and reaching out to set her hand on Sirius's face and give it a slow and playful shove out of frame. If there were a frame. ]

We are not a romance novel, stop narrating!! You're so weird. But I am a fantastic kisser, just for the record. Shouldn't Remus be off kissing one of the twelve million girls we set him up with at the date thing? Are you kissing them and if not why not? [ she holds a fist up towards his face but not at all in a punching way, turned so it's like she's holding a microphone up for an interview. ]

I'm not kissing anyone— [ Remus tells the ceiling, half-preoccupied with keeping his abs tensed and somewhat deserving of all this praise and petting. That's a real answer, a temporary flash of seriousness, but not very melancholy. Even cheerful. Who needs to kiss girls (teenagers! they were all teenagers, this is very unfair) when your friends are there to pat your abs and not be in prison or in distant, untouchable universes. ]

—because I love you, and only you. [ He looks back down, directly into Kate's eyes, and does not talk into her imaginary microphone only because he is only distantly familiar with the concept of microphones. ] I've loved you since the day I first swabbed your deck, and I will never love another.

[ He sounds and looks very sincere, up until the point where he turns his attention to Sirius and raises his eyebrows, seeking approval or further narration or both. ]

Oo-er. [--says Sirius, low and hushed and approving. There's a reason Remus is his favourite forever ("forever", no depressing thoughts here). He plays along. He doesn't try to shove Sirius in the face, which isn't a thought he thinks with an particular irritation, because he'd have licked Kate's hand a second later had she kept up with her shoving. There's always an out.

But this? This is better. And Kate is better than twelve million girls anyways, so any support her question might have gotten from Sirius in another time and place is quite nonexistent in the here and now.

He stops patting and lays his head on Remus, somewhereish, with his eyes rolled sideways-upwards to keep track of the action.]

'And when he said these words, Captain Kate knew, in the deepest bits of herself, that he was telling the truth. That every deck her well-muscled cabin boy had swabbed, he had swabbed for her. And she knew, too, that she could trust him to swab her good, 'cos she had watched him do all that swabbing, with muscley arms and sort of bony wrists, but she liked the bony wrists, 'cos, who doesn't. Yes, she could feel it'-- you can feel it, can't you? Sort of throbby--

[This is to Kate, whom Sirius swivels a look on, brief, to confirm, and then loses interest in confirm and just goes on--]

'She could feel it, a throbbing, deep in deep bits. And Lupin the cabin boy was looking so smoldery--' [He twists his lips sidewaysish to peck a dry kiss against the fibres of Remus' jumper.] Ssss, smoldery--ooh, nice-- '--And the force of her desire to kiss him was like-- mmmagnetic. Zzzzz.'

Do it.

[Wiggled fingers of compulsion.]

Edited (wait one more thing) 2015-04-22 19:59 (UTC)

[ Kate struggles valiantly, she really does, but all of her powers of self-control and seriousness are undone in the face of all of this earnestness. This completely fake earnestness. She keeps ahold of herself through Remus's declaration, which is actually very nicely done, enough that she holds eye contact and a straight face and actually does perhaps feel something just a little bit smoldery or magnetic just for a second--

before he looks at Sirius and her lips start trying to twitch into a grin and then Sirius won't stop saying words, half of which are throb or deep and she loses it, she just loses it entirely, a laugh bursting out of her so she can't even look at Sirius's face without laughing, even as she's trying to admonish him. ]

Sirius-- Sirius Jehosephat Black if you say the word throb one more time--!!! Oh my god. You are the worst. But no, okay-- Okay! I'm being-- we're being serious now. Seriously. Shut up--.

[ This of course to Sirius before he can make the inevitable joke. She abruptly hauls herself upright a little bit, with a forearm on Remus's shoulder and a hand on Sirius's, pushing herself up until she is basically sat in the former's lap, though that is not the important part, the important part is that now she can set both of her hands on his shoulders and look at him very seriously. ]

You shouldn't be kissing nobody, Remus. Because you are excellent, okay? You are funny and smart and kind and a great friend and a wizard and lots of fun and you have cute hair and surprising abs and I know that really you just want Estelle Stone and I wish she existed because you deserve that, okay? You're so great and I want you to get all the things that you want. Don't not-kiss girls because of the werewolf thing. The rest of you is worth it.

[ Remus keeps it together until— ]

Jehosephat.

[ —and then he doesn't laugh, not the way Kate's laughing, but he does grin and make a few huffy noises and put one of his freakishly long arms around Sirius Jehosephat Black's shoulders (or thereabouts) to skritch at his arm (or, again, thereabouts) as unthinkingly as if it were covered in fur. (Does Kate know about the fur?) He thought it was a nice story. Very well-narrated. Not laughable at all.

That's more than he can say for the pep talk. Or: it's a very sweet pep talk, especially the parts he's actually able to pay attention to after recovering, emotionally and physically and logically and every -ally, from the fact that Kate is sitting on his lap. But it's a little too sweet, for his current levels of inebriated, and he's struggling to keep a straight face. Not because he isn't touched. He is. If Kate can look past his desperate attempts not to start snorting with offensive and unattractive laughter, she might be able to see the touched bits, deep down. Deep and throbbing touchedness. ]

You're drunk, Captain Bishop. Or not drunk enough. [ He tosses his free hand out toward the bar. ] Accio whisky. [ But, like I said: free hand. His wandless magic is 40/60. This is one of the 60. The bottle in question does move, but only enough to fall off the bar and shatter on the floor, and then he does laugh. ] Fuck.

[ He'll clean it up later, probably. If he remembers. For now he gives up, because his wand is somewhere—the floor, maybe—that he can't reach with Kate on his lap and Sirius against his side. ]

I'm not a bloody blushing virgin. [ He pinches Sirius' arm. ] Tell her I'm not. I'm a virile cabin boy.

Jeho,

[Sirius starts to say, and then he laughs. Maybe he'll change his middle name. The initials would be less amusing, but Jehoshaphat might just make up for that. He does sort of a pleased wriggle at arm scritching, mmghr, quiet happy growl, as if he is indeed covered in fur at the moment--but that changes pretty quickly to a snort of laughter, as he remembers Jehoshaphat.

He keep laughing, generally--all through being maneuvered aside so Kate can crawl into Remus' lap--which, well done, Kate Bishop, always like a girl who takes initiative--and even through some of that pep talk, though he does downgrade it to a quieter general chuckling, mostly so he can hear. And he smiles, slowly, sleepily, pleased that someone else sees good bits where he sees good bits, and then maybe some.

But still.]

You're drunk. [Agreement from Remus' lower side.] You're ssooo drunk. Both of you.

[And he laughs, again, when the bottle falls on the floor. The smell of whisky is pleasantly pungently everywhere, at least for a brief whiff. Sirius thinks momentarily about rolling over onto the floor and going for it. That plan seems hard, so. He doesn't. Yet. Instead he squirms at the pinching.]

Nnngh. Yes. No. Yes, he's so virile. The virilest. Always leaves 'em satisfied, can go for hours. Believe me, I've shared a dormitory with him. Impregnation at a glance. Also he's-- you know, all of those things that you said. But add virile. And a good kisser. You know, if you want her to believe me--and, you-- [Remus, here's your in, and he turns his head a little to dig his chin into Remus' jumpered side.] Then just kiss her. Prove it. Lay a good Lupin kiss on her, she's in your lap. I want a drink.

[And now he starts trying to roll off of the sofa.]

[ Kate sighs heavily, as if the world is a cruel and unfair place designed specifically to thwart her good intentions. ] My peptalks never work. [ She leans her forehead against Remus's shoulder for a minute and then picks it up sharply to turn and look at Sirius, eyes wide and then wider, brows arched and lips tugged further and further off-center, laughing. ]

Did you just-- oh my god. You should never be his wingman. Or anybody's wingman. Ever. Like is there literally anything less attractive than talking about impregnation? Now it's just weird. I'm not drunk enough for this amount of weird.

[ Sorry Remus, your bro has failed you because Kate hops off his lap, steadying herself on the arm of the couch and his knee before she heads for the bar. She might give Sirius's head another shove on her way, just for good measure. ]

What—

[ But Kate is gone. Sirius is on his way to being gone. Remus spends a moment blaming each of them for his sudden solitude on the sofa, then shrugs it off and takes the opportunity to claim the entire thing for himself, legs tossed over one arm and head on the other. He didn't want to snog anyone anyway. ]

I'm very pepped, Kate, thank you. I'll start necking with those teenagers first thing in the morning. You have my word. [ He folds his arms behind his head and closes his eyes. They're going to be terribly hungover in the morning and it will serve them right for leaving him here alone. ] Don't cut your tongue on the glass, Padfoot.

Nghsfm.

[Sirius says, as Kate shoves his head and subsequently--thanks to loose coordination--pushes his face against the floor. This is where he is now: the floor, staring sidelong toward the puddle of whisky and glass, one cheek mashed against cool space tile.]

Nghs. Nnecking.

[He shoves himself up onto his forearms, squinting at Kate as she moves toward the bar. There is a nominal amount of checking-out-her-arse as she goes, force of habit, also it's nice--but mostly he's a little cross-eyed right now, so it doesn't go quite well.]

I didn't say impregnate. Honestly. Moony, did you hear me say 'impregnate'? No, you did not, 'cos I didn't. What I said, was, 'inflagrante'. As in, setting aflame. Fires. Passions. Et cetera. Kate, will you bring me a drink when you come back this way, I don't want to cut my tongue on glass. Why is no one kissing, Remus is going to fall asleep if we leave him there.

You did you totally said it. And inflagrante is not better anyway. You're lucky you're pretty.

[ Kate picks her way carefully around the glass, but by the time she gets to the bar and staring at the bottles of liquor available she's not sure she actually wants another drink after all. She splits the difference, picking up three cans of bog-standard futurespace beer, the sort that's as much water as anything but kind of perfect sometimes when it's as cold as it is now.

She wanders back and sets one beside Sirius's head, right up against his cheek, presses another to the side of Remus's neck. She drinks, head tipped back and neck long as she swallows down about half of it in a go. ]

Sirius if you want kissing so bad why aren't you doing any yourself?

I heard inflagrante, [ Remus says loyally, while trying very hard to fall asleep, since they have left him here. Alone. And he's very good at falling asleep, even when he doesn't have the benefit of a sofa to sprawl out on, whenever and wherever he wants. He nearly manages it now. His brain has gone a bit white-noisy and distant by the time Kate puts a cold can to his neck and makes him flinch halfway to sitting up. ]

God, Kate.

[ It's fine. He's fine. He slides up the sofa just enough to prop his head and shoulders up semi-upright while the rest of him stays flat, opens the beer, and moves a leg to put one of his feet on Sirius' shoulder and try to wiggle him, whether or not he's sat up as well by then. ]

That's a good question. Why don't you two kiss and I'll do the voyeuristic narration? Having broken the heart of her pining cabin boy, for his own good of course, Captain Kate went—somewhere, brig maybe, something something, notorious, roguish, and very pretty pirate Josephat [ right? ] Black... snogging.

[ What a good story. ]

Jose-prat. Arrrgh, me hearties.

[Still propped up on elbows and forearms, Sirius has managed to exercise a limited bit of coordination, enough to pry open his space beer. Now he is concentrating on drinking it, and on the pressure of Remus' foot against his shoulder which is, he thinks, a nice weight. If he were a dog right now he would roll over to maneuver for a belly rub. He considers doing it now, fully human, but decides that he would spill his beer and so does not.

Instead he grins, vaguely, at nothing, and lolls his head back so he can turn that grin up on the both of them. Even sloppily drunk and bleary-eyed and stretched out on the floor, there is something in his features that unfairly makes all of that look kind of cool. Notorious and roguish and pretty indeed. Smolder smolder smolder.]

I'm on the floor.

[Sound reasoning. He elbows the floor tiles.]

This, it's the brig. I'm on the floor and I'll kiss anyone, but they've got to be on the floor and no one else is. Except-- space beer. [He raises said space beer and squints at it--then slurps at the top.] Mmg. There. Your turn. Come on, don't disappoint me. It's nearly my space birthday. Notorious rrroguish, very pre-- pretty? 'Pretty'. Can you change that bit.

How about you two kiss and I'll do the voyeuristic whatevering.

[ Kate is being very sarcastic, as she stands with her beer looking at Sirius on the floor sprawling like a half dead fish but somehow still smoldering roguishly and Remus trying to fall asleep while taking up the entire couch. This won't do. ]

Alright, up, both of you. [ She pats her hand on Sirius's head and tugs at his shoulder, while pulling on Remus's knee. ] You are released from the brig and we are all going to be on this couch and you are going to like it. If you're both very good maybe I'll kiss somebody.

[ Details of arrangement beyond 'couch, everyone, dibs on middle' she hasn't quite worked out yet if she can get them moving at all she's aiming generally for a lot of that draping over each other there was earlier. That was nice, and warm, but not too warm. She takes another swig of beer and is careful to hold it out of danger, which means some maneuvering to avoid elbows and tippy angles and an occasionally awkward two fingered grip on sweaters and jumpsuits when used haul boys around where she wants them. ]

Edited 2015-04-23 15:40 (UTC)

[ Remus makes a whining noise when he's forced to sit up, but otherwise he's a good sport about it, mostly, other than insisting that his legs remain on the sofa with the rest of him—so stretched out over or under the other occupants, whichever, and he's twisted sideways and surveying them both with bleary affection over the rim of his beer can. ]

All right.

After some things happen, [ please take over Sirius this isn't his bag ] Captain Kate, who apparently wants her heartbroken cabin boy to kiss anyone but her, finds herself trapped on a lifeboat with said cabin boy and said notorious pirate Prat Black, who is pretty in a very manly and dangerous way, like a sharp dagger— [ This is off topic. He picks up a strand of Kate's hair and repositions it for no particular reason. ]

Sharks. There are sharks around the lifeboat. We'll probably all die here.

[Headpatting is good, headpatting is great, headpatting appeals to Sirius on such an intrinsic happy level that he shifts himself forward with a pleased hgnrghf, in contrast to piteous werewolf whines. General crawling forward, general crawling onto sofa, under legs o' Lupin and leaned up against Kate once more, and Sirius settles in, mashing his cheek against her upper arm.]

O tempora o mores.

[Solemn intonation with mouth of t-shirt.]

--Sssaid the notorious pirate Jesoprat Black, newly freed from his brig 'cos the ship sank under the weight of broken hearts and secret abdominal muscles that glisten o so viriley--you really oughta check 'em out--

Sharks!

[A sudden shout, and he sits up to stare over at his sofa companions. Very pretty manly dashing.]

He's right! Arrgh, it's sharks. We'll have to kill them between us, barehanded. Beerhanded. Can't waste the beer, 'cos we're surrounded by salt water, we have to conserve. Thirst. So it's shark fights or head for the distant shore of the deserted island. Desert isle. Dessert aisle. Which is it, buckos? I ain't goin' down without a fight either way, not after being freed from theee, the brig. Of which I'm so so grateful. Whose idea was that? Cap'ns? Can't be.

An' Cap'n Kate, she tossed her gorgeous hair, and she said--

[He touches his index finger to Kate's lips. Expectant.]

[ Kate is once again struggling to stop laughing, quiet but shoulders shaking with it as she gets comfortable tipped against Remus's chest, sort of between legs with Sirius propped on her shoulder. She loops her arm around his neck, half-hugging his head to her chest, still all laughter, just barely containing her smile long enough to purse her lips against the tip of his finger. ]

And she said that she's never had a more ridiculous crew and she'd definitely never have brought them along if she'd known they'd end up getting her trapped surrounded by sharks blocking the way to the dessert aisle. But since they're almost out of beer anyway there's nothing left to do but to die in a bloody but glorious shark battle so she supposes just this once she could be merciful.

[ Which means they finally get their kisses, apparently. Or at least Sirius does, as Kate taps his chin with a finger and hunches down to bring her mouth to his. It's not a peck but it's more friendly than romantic, a soft press of closed lips. She has a hand on Remus's knee, the one over both their laps, and if he makes a move like he might extricate himself, he'll get a squeeze. ]

goooooo

goooooooooooooooooo

gooooooooooooooooooal

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