Note: Found this while I was going through the slush pile. It's not exactly M-rated, but it's a little beyond what I would usually include in QP. So.

Takes place between "Homecoming pt 2" and "Homecoming pt 3".

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Deryn's hands are shaking by the time they find the right spot. She notices when she twists the lock on the door, and curses herself for a perfect ninny. She's kissed him a thousand times; this won't be anything new.

"We'll have to be quiet," she says in a whisper. "The stewards -"

- can hear barking everything through these walls, is the rest of the sentence. She doesn't get to say that bit, though, because Alek kisses her as soon as she turns around. He lays a hand on her shoulder and the other on her neck and tugs her down and presses his mouth to hers. Soft, at first, then harder, then soft again.

The shivers in her gut grow warmer.

But, sod it all, she dragged him back here to kiss him senseless. She pulls away enough to look about. The cabin is scarcely more than a closet: a bed anchored to one wall, a wee desk anchored to the other, a porthole on the wall in between, and a chair.

The bed has possibilities, but on the whole…

She catches his eyes and grins, happy to be here with him, in love and a bit drunk on it, anticipation humming in her blood.

His eyes darken, flicking to her mouth and back up again. His own smile is more than a squick wicked – and smug. Dummkopf.

She leans down and kisses him, putting her hands on his chest and pushing him backwards, one, two, three steps, until his back thumps gently into the porthole wall.

"That's better," she says against his mouth. She can see the sky and Alek all at once, both close enough to touch.

"For you, perhaps," he says. His hands settle at her waist; she steps in closer, feet to the outside of his. "I would like somewhat more leverage to –"

Now it's her turn to cut him off mid-sentence. She slants her mouth over his, pressing forward, hands gripping either side of his skull. He makes a low noise in his throat that sends a bright dart through her stomach, and his hands tighten on her waist.

This time she opens her mouth, and, after a moment, he does the same. Blisters. That always feels brilliant – more than it ought to, really. She rocks her hips into his, wanting to hear that noise again. He obliges, and catches her lower lip in his teeth as he draws back.

"Liebe," he murmurs. One of his hands has been working its way north, and now she arches into his palm and drops her forehead to his shoulder, biting down on a very unsoldierly gasp.

Her skin's much too hot, and those bloody sodding bindings are much too tight. She can't take them off here, though. Can't take anything off, not with –

Several people pass by the cabin door, talking loudly. Deryn and Alek both freeze in place, scarcely breathing, until it quiets once more.

"You did lock the door?" he whispers.

She has to swallow; her mouth's gone dry, and not from fear. The rough note to his voice doesn't help matters. "Aye."

"In that case," he says, stroking a hand through her hair, temple to nape. He does it again as she kisses him, and once more again, and it's daft how cherished that makes her feel.

She stops them for a moment, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and holding him close, eyes closed, nose buried in the warm scent of his hair. The only thing that could convince her to drag her bum back to Glasgow is Alek wanting to go along, but she doesn't say that. Instead she says, "I love you."

He doesn't say anything at first, but the pressure from his own arms – around her midsection – increases until she feels her ribs creak. "I love you," he says, barely more than a breath against the skin of her cheek. "God's wounds, Deryn, I do."

She stays where she is for another moment longer. Then she says, cheeky, "In that case," and nips at the soft lobe of his ear while her hands slide down to fiddle with the buttons on his shirt.

"Don't," he says, half-choking, half-laughing.

"Oh?" She bites at his ear again, popping one button open and pushing her hand inside, flat against his warm, soft skin. He shivers beneath her; his heart is pounding.

"There will be retribution," he warns as she takes another nip at his earlobe. He tugs her shirt free of her trousers. Cool air brushes against her skin there, and the flame in her stomach leaps.

She moves her hand, rolling her thumb across his nipple, making his breath hitch. "That a promise, love?"

Deryn expects him to wander north again, but unexpectedly he goes south, working one hand under the waistband of her trousers and gripping her bum. "Most definitely."

"Mmph," she says, which is bloody articulate if you ask her. She sucks in a sharp breath when his fingers tighten, and finds his mouth again. There's not much gentle about this kiss. Alek doesn't seem to mind, as he gets her leg and hitches it up towards his waist, tugging her hard against him.

Barking spiders.

She shudders.

Alek breaks off kissing and releases her leg as if she's scalded him. The hand on her bum slips out of her trousers, and he somehow manages to put space between the two of them, wall or not. "I'm sorry," he says, eyes widening. "I didn't mean –"

Deryn laughs, a bit breathless, letting her hand fall away from his chest. If she's to be honest, aye, his fingers were digging in painfully, both places. However… "I didn't mind, Dummkopf."

His dark green eyes search hers, and then he offers a half-smile, though he keeps his hands away from her bum. "Perhaps another time would be better, anyway. That was… leading farther than we ought to go."

"Aye," she says, giving the cabin a critical stare, pretending not to have noticed what she was just pressed against. No point, she tells herself, willing her blood to cool. They won't be going any farther today. "We'd want a proper bed for that."

He laughs, short and soundless. A few months ago, that sort of statement would've sent him blushing and stammering; of course, a few months ago, he wouldn't have been hauling her about. He produces his pocket watch, checks the time, then returns it to his pocket. "And a more generous schedule, I should think."

Deryn lifts an eyebrow. "Planning something grand, Mr. Hohenberg?"

"Only a bit of retribution, as promised, Mr. Sharp," Alek says. He brushes his fingers along her jaw, then lets them slip down her neck to rest on her collar, palm just over her heart. "Shall we keep strictly to kissing?"

The light touch on her collar is burning straight through to her guts. She steps close again. "All right."

This kiss is gentle. A slow promise that makes her toes curl in her boots. She closes her eyes to enjoy it –

- until the warm, wet pressure of his mouth disappears from hers and reappears at the juncture where her neck joins her shoulder.

Her eyes fly open, and if she makes a wee squeaking noise and grabs for his hair, well, there's no one to hear it but him.

So much for cooling her blood; every nerve in her body lights up white-hot. "Blisters, Alek –"

He sucks at her skin. Hard. Hard enough to leave a bruise, if he keeps going. Alarm tickles at the back of her skull.

"Wait," Deryn says, tugging his hair. "Bloody – That'll be under my shirt, aye?"

Alek bites down and then presses a kiss to her skin as he draws back far enough to say, "Yes." He adds, "I have done this before," with a touch of princely arrogance.

She meets his eyes. A smile grows. "In that case," she says, grinning madly.