You know that'll always depend on what it is they're sticking to.
[ He can't let her off the hook for every theft just because of... this. But that's definitely something to table. Always to table, for she's as prone to heists as he is to heroics. And as the two of them know, they can slap each other on the wrist for their conflicting views all day. But right now, this isn't about what separates them. This is about what they have in common, and what they plan to do having found common ground. ]
Are you sure? Because now that we're talking about pizza--
[ At least he's cognizant enough to know he's about to run his mouth. He holds that thought, not seeking to spoil the moment any further. ]
Stopping there. Pizza can wait.
[ He was also compelled into silence by the descent of Felicia's hand, whose curious roaming leads her to her target. She hadn't even touched him yet, but below the belt, Peter's mere anticipation leaves something present and waiting for her fingers-- something waiting to broken free as soon as he ditches his Spider-suit. He tried not to acknowledge it, odds improved by the manner in which his eyes are glued to Felicia's chest.
What with it now exposed by the falling away of her robe. Though she's clad in underwear, her current state leaves little to the imagination, and 'little' becomes a less applicable word to whatever's going on between Peter's legs. His complexion reddens enough to compete with his suit's color scheme, and he worries that in speaking again he's just gonna stammer incoherently. So maybe the silence will come as a relief to Felicia, or maybe... she'll miss the mile-a-minute pace of his wit.
Then again, it's Peter. She won't be missing it for long. ]
Doesn't sound like breakfast is all you have in mind. Glad our plans overlap...
[ If he allows hesitation to control him, he'll be stuck sitting here deliberating all day. So he's just going to act - come hell or high water - and pick up the pieces of any mistakes he makes as he goes. If he makes mistakes. He doubts, however, that he's committing anything egregious by reaching around her and - together with the hand already on her back - undoing her bra to free her from it. Another article that falls limp, just to be collected and disposed, there being no further need for it. ]
This doesn't reflect a conflict of interests, does it?
[ He says it with a more comfortable grin than before, like a man who knows what he's doing. It's not like this is Peter's first rodeo, but Christ. Forget quips running mile-a-minute. In front of a topless Felicia, that's a better way to describe Peter's heart rate.
And watch it spike as his hand - the one that had reached around her previously - retreats to better cup her exposed breast. To collect its mass in his hand, fingers squeezing and palm pressing, hoping it means something that now he's actually fondling her. It's probably a familiar sensation, despite how long it's been. Felicia can only imagine the control he must exercising, trying not to let his hand stick as it normally does to most surfaces.
If she really wants to talk about sticky fingers, he's got some of his own to worry about! ]
booba 2: electric boogaloo
[ He can't let her off the hook for every theft just because of... this. But that's definitely something to table. Always to table, for she's as prone to heists as he is to heroics. And as the two of them know, they can slap each other on the wrist for their conflicting views all day. But right now, this isn't about what separates them. This is about what they have in common, and what they plan to do having found common ground. ]
Are you sure? Because now that we're talking about pizza--
[ At least he's cognizant enough to know he's about to run his mouth. He holds that thought, not seeking to spoil the moment any further. ]
Stopping there. Pizza can wait.
[ He was also compelled into silence by the descent of Felicia's hand, whose curious roaming leads her to her target. She hadn't even touched him yet, but below the belt, Peter's mere anticipation leaves something present and waiting for her fingers-- something waiting to broken free as soon as he ditches his Spider-suit. He tried not to acknowledge it, odds improved by the manner in which his eyes are glued to Felicia's chest.
What with it now exposed by the falling away of her robe. Though she's clad in underwear, her current state leaves little to the imagination, and 'little' becomes a less applicable word to whatever's going on between Peter's legs. His complexion reddens enough to compete with his suit's color scheme, and he worries that in speaking again he's just gonna stammer incoherently. So maybe the silence will come as a relief to Felicia, or maybe... she'll miss the mile-a-minute pace of his wit.
Then again, it's Peter. She won't be missing it for long. ]
Doesn't sound like breakfast is all you have in mind. Glad our plans overlap...
[ If he allows hesitation to control him, he'll be stuck sitting here deliberating all day. So he's just going to act - come hell or high water - and pick up the pieces of any mistakes he makes as he goes. If he makes mistakes. He doubts, however, that he's committing anything egregious by reaching around her and - together with the hand already on her back - undoing her bra to free her from it. Another article that falls limp, just to be collected and disposed, there being no further need for it. ]
This doesn't reflect a conflict of interests, does it?
[ He says it with a more comfortable grin than before, like a man who knows what he's doing. It's not like this is Peter's first rodeo, but Christ. Forget quips running mile-a-minute. In front of a topless Felicia, that's a better way to describe Peter's heart rate.
And watch it spike as his hand - the one that had reached around her previously - retreats to better cup her exposed breast. To collect its mass in his hand, fingers squeezing and palm pressing, hoping it means something that now he's actually fondling her. It's probably a familiar sensation, despite how long it's been. Felicia can only imagine the control he must exercising, trying not to let his hand stick as it normally does to most surfaces.
If she really wants to talk about sticky fingers, he's got some of his own to worry about! ]