The timbre of Angelo's voice ensnares her attention, bright silver eyes unconsciously traveling the length of his mouth as he speaks. Something warm coils in her belly at the familiar taunting in his words and at the challenge that sparks in ocean blue eyes. Meant for her. Still, it isn't until her parents leave the room and Angelo leans forward that Skyler feels the pull like it's a physical force, beckoning her to move closer.

Instead, the sailor rises from the couch and makes her way to the fireplace, casually poking at the fire until hungry tongues of flame illuminate her blond locks. She feels pleasantly warm, although that might've been a combination of the fireplace, the wine - and the empty space between her and Angelo, suddenly filled with promise.

"I just figured you showed a little leg to the Alto Marian sea captains. It's our weakness, did you know?" The light, purposefully casual tone of Skyler's statement is belied by the impish cast to her face when she turns to face him. "I need to be careful, making sure you aren't taking advantage of me." 

The notion almost makes her laugh, but the captain manages to keep it at bay - barely - as her lips twitch into an insolent, provocative grin.

She takes a step closer to Angelo then, but it isn't nearly enough to close the distance between them, halting her movement at the quiet provocation in his voice. Something like hunger crosses over her face in a flash, but it is swiftly gone - leaving a predatory smile in its wake. 

"Do I have to fight you off my waters, Angel?" Captain Dross tastes the words as they leave her mouth, breathless anticipation making her take a step closer to her - apparent - arch-nemesis. Seeing no need to smother the rising desire to tangle with those ocean blues. Tension crackles along her skin, and she finds herself giving into it, basking in the delighted thrill that shoots up her spine. "Are you sure you want to take me on?" 

Captain Dross in unaware of having taken those last few steps, but she's suddenly brought herself to stand in front of Angelo. Calloused digits drift over his face, gently tilting his face to look up at hers, silver clashing with ocean blue. A thumb grazes back and forth over his cheekbone, leisurely. Distractedly.

When she speaks, her voice is barely above a whisper, warm and intimate in a way that invites him closer. "The ocean is mine, mio Angelo." And so are you. The words linger, unspoken, in the space between their lips. Skyler leans in, but her lips barely brush his before she's stepping back again, the charged space where a kiss ought to have happened growing cold.

The full knowledge of what had (almost) happened pulls Skyler's lips into a self-satisfied smirk, firelight playing with the curls in her hair. 

"So, what did you think of the dinner, Angel? The Dross family? Did we exceed expectations?"

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They probably shouldn't be doing this, Skyler thinks, wetting her lips when she catches the edge of a smirk on Angelo's face, tempting her to retrace her steps, hungry for the feel of fingers tangling in short brown hair. Pulling him closer until she's finally taking that damnable smirk for her own.

Skyler's parents having departed the living room only minutes prior, there was a very high likelihood that they might come back yet for some reason or the other. But the notion isn't nearly enough to stop the increased tempo of her heartbeat, or the flame that simmers, expectant, beneath darkened silvers when they clash against ocean blues.

"I think aunt Jules will be asking after you for some time yet." Laughter hides beneath her words, weaving itself into her voice, unbidden. "But I'm afraid what she's after is already taken." The statement is spoken into the charged air between them, bold and unapologetic, less an asking for permission and more the stating of a fact, though the playful set of Skyler's mouth dares him to contradict her.

Just so she can prove him wrong. However many times is necessary.

Their fingertips brush together, the small area of contact sending tantalizing sparks of electricity to dance over Skyler's arms. Slowly sharpening her smile into an invitation that Angelo isn't shy about accepting, rising from his position on the couch to press his hands into hers, engulfing calloused fingers in his own. 

Captain Dross intertwines her fingers with his, lips quirking into something slightly feral as his words reach her. "The best trouble you'll ever have, mio Angelo." The earlier smile has disappeared from her expression, chased away by half-lidded eyes and strained, breathless words.

Angelo's kiss steals away any other thoughts about to take shape in Skyler's mouth, silver eyes closing as she loses herself to the feel of his lust playing across the clash of their lips - matching it with a ferocity of her own. And now, instead of waiting for him to come her way with mischievous eyes and a dare on the tip of her tongue, Skyler's the one who leans into him, ravenous for the darkened depths beneath his ocean blues. 

Calloused digits remove themselves from his grasp to drag short nails over the side of his neck. Tangling fingers into short brown hair, scraping over his scalp, giving the strands a playful, forceful tug.

The other hand, still entwined with Angelo's, raises to curl a finger around one of his belt loops and pull him closer to the warmth of her body, the motion eating up whatever distance remained between the two of them and prompting a pleased hum to escape Skyler's throat.

A distant thump breaks the kiss. 

Skyler tenses and looks up at the general direction of the noise, panting lightly through kiss-swollen lips. Silver eyes try to peer through the darkened hallway, but nothing seems to move - not yet anyway.

She tightens her grip on Angelo momentarily, as if rebelling against the thought of letting go, molten silvers flashing with something akin to impatience as she settles them on Angelo. "My room." The direction is breathed quietly over of his lips. The captain can't resist a lingering brush of her lips over his neck before stepping back, hands falling away. 

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Their journey is a treacherous one, leaving behind the warm crackling of the fireplace to step into the shadows, like two sneaky thieves in the night. The cold left in the wake of their parting only serves to feed Skyler's impatience, propelling her into the darkened corridor with an almost reckless impetuousness. Her feet take her through a familiar path, and despite the hazy moonlight that draws long shadows onto the floor, Skyler doesn't stumble.

The sailor hesitates before she steps into the entrance hall, eyes drifting to the young man behind her, catching the darkened depths of ocean blues for a single moment. She suddenly finds herself having to fight away the image of Angelo pinned against the closest wall. Her named pulled from gasping, begging lips...

"Some of these old floorboards creak; follow my exact footsteps." It should've been a warning; instead, a low-simmering desire twists her words into something that sounds suspiciously like an invitation, only heightened by the smile that slowly pulls at the corners of her lips - stained with devilish intent. It quickly disappears when Skyler turns around, feet whispering over floorboards with such practised ease it becomes clear this wasn't the first time the captain had sneaked about. 

Their hushed advance is only broken when Skyler signals the creaky steps to Angelo. His presence at her back feels almost like a physical caress, replacing the cold moonlight and sending molten heat to pool low in her stomach. Several times her focus slips, breath held in her throat at the groaning of wood under her feet, adrenaline spiking in her veins at the thought of them being discovered and -

Craving that taste of danger on her tongue, that rush of chasing after the forbidden with no care for the rest of the world. It’s something that the sailor’s come to associate with the thought of tempestuous blue eyes and sly smirks... And the way they look framed by her own rumpled sheets.

Just as the upper corridor comes into view, dark save for the sparse moonlight that manages to reach this far, Skyler halts - mouth going dry at the sensation of calloused fingertips burning a languid, torturous path up her thigh. Lingering over her ass. Pinching.

Her grip on the banister tightens, knuckles turning white. Skyler's all too aware that anyone stepping out onto the corridor would be able to see them - and she quickly decides that she can't be bothered to give a fuck.

Not when Angelo’s whisper brings forth a strangled exhale from her throat, too quiet to be a moan and too loud to be anything else. Not when a shiver goes down her spine and goosebumps emerge on her exposed skin from the hot, humid air that fans over her neck. And especially not when the frayed edges of her self-control pull taut at the promise that is laid bare in his words, taunting her. Daring her.

Molten silver flashes in the dark, a predatory gleam catching the moonlight that spills from the front windows as she turns to face Angelo. A single fingertip teasingly curls under the edge of his jeans, dipping to leisurely pop open a button - and then daring to dip a little more. There’s something lazy in the curve of her smile, showing just enough teeth to hint of at the raw, naked hunger that swims under the silvery surface of her eyes.

"First to the right." Whatever response he might've had for her is quickly swallowed in the greed of her lips, a hand curling around the back of his neck to pull him to her. 

The last couple of steps are nearly their undoing as Captain Dross stumbles her way past them, dragging Angelo with her. A hand blindly reaches for the wall until it finds a doorknob, though a silent curse of frustration is growled quietly over his lips when it doesn’t immediately open.

And then the sound of nearby voices freezes the captain in place. 

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The dizzying rush of danger pulses in tandem with the frantic rhythm of her heart, drowning out most everything else in the vicinity save for the feel of gripping hands and heavy panting. Skyler's hand drifts away from the door when Angelo takes the initiative, the sound of - approaching? - footsteps sending a bolt of adrenaline through her system.

For a moment she's sure - she's really sure - that they're about to get caught.

The thought almost slips her mind when Angelo's body pins hers to the wooden surface, unwielding in its advance. Her head tilts up to meet the ragged edges of his desire with her own in the rushed, desperate meeting of their mouths. She finds herself too busy to utter a curse, too uncaring about the voices that draw nearer, muffled through walls but definitely closer.

Too overwhelmed by the thrill that eats up the last shreds of her sanity.

Then the door behind her clicks open and she feels herself being coaxed past it, two entangled bodies rushing, fumbling through the half-open door and into the darkened room.

A rush of exhilaration bubbles past her lips in a breathy, quiet laugh as the door clicks shut behind them, the humid breath against her lips sending a familiar shiver down her spine. 

And it's all she can do not to grip the short brown strands of hair in her hands and pull him back to the greed of her lips. Instead, she leans forward to catch his lip between her teeth, sharp and sudden. Moonlit eyes gleam up at Angelo with carnal, unapologetic desire swimming across their silvery surface. Beckoning him to take the invitation that tugs at the edges of a lazy smile.

This time when she undoes the button of his pants, it stays that way.

"Merry Christmas, Angel baby."

Moonlight highlights a wild mane of blonde hair and pools on the curve of her neck as she steps back towards the bed, taking Angelo with her.

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The whisper of a kiss on the back of her neck stirrs her from the deep embrace of sleep, consciousness coming in short bursts and false starts as the ship captain struggles against the onset of morning. A soft sigh is breathed against the fabric of a suspiciously wet pillow, and it is instinct more than any other thing that curves the arc of her back to neatly fit against the naked warmth behind her until no space remains between them.

Her mind's still adrift in a drowsy haze when soft words, spoken in a raspy voice that sends pleasant shivers up her spine, pierce through the thick fog of sleep. A noncomittal hum slips past her lips, unconvinced of the argument wandering fingertips trace over her shoulder despite the annoyingly soft smile that insists on curling her lips.

Angelo isn't the only one who's indulging this morning.

Eventually, Skyler rolls to face the courier, using the momentum to hook a leg around his waist and pull herself closer. Her eyes are still closed and she mumbles something unintelligible against the skin of his neck, her untamed mess of wild golden curls fanning over the sheets like it was its own entity. It also served to hide her face from the gentle touch of morning sunlight - which, in her opinion, could go fuck itself.

For all intents and purposes, it seems as if the captain has gone right back to sleep. Drool and all.

The only warning is the tensing of her leg muscles, briefly bringing him closer to her before she's pushing him onto the mattress, pinning him down with hands digging into his shoulders - and pushing herself up in the process. 

Her bare torso is a map of imperfections bathed in the faint sunlight, though the proud set of her jaw banishes any thought of insecurities and/or apologies. "G'morning, Angel..." Her voice is husky from sleep, spilling out in hushed tones that lent themselves to secrecy. 

Calloused fingertips trail an unhurried path up his torso, soon followed by a heated gaze that greedily drinks in the lines of his muscles, traces the elegant lines of his collarbones and the width of his shoulders, appreciates the play of golden light on the handsome features of his face. By the time they find familiar ocean blues, there's a sinfully wicked smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

"Time for breakfast."

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The sleepy, languorous beat of her heart picks up with the ascent of a wandering hand, leaving in its wake a pleasurable shiver reflected in quicksilver eyes. Lips part in a soft exhale, as if unwilling to disturb the morning stillness. Mirroring a game they'd played the previous night with a secretive twist of her lips...

Blunt nails dig into Angelo's shoulders, soon followed by the brush of golden curls over tan skin as Skyler leans in to place her lips over his, coaxing a soft kiss into existence. Fingers tangle themselves into soft brown strands of their own accord. When the captain pulls back, hesitatingly, another kind of haze has stolen over her expression; sleepiness all but gone.

"Oh? And here I thought you'd indulged plenty yesterday. What, dessert wasn't enough?" The words are whispered over his lips with unapologetic insolence, punctuated by a darkening of silver eyes and the deliberate press of thighs around his waist.

But while yesterday they'd been wholly cocooned in each other's company, at least after dark, the shafts of sunlight that pool on their skin now are accompanied by the distant sounds of a house on the verge of waking up. Or, given by the numbers flashing out at her from the ancient alarm clock on her bedside table, a house that had already woken up some time ago. 

"We'd better be heading down or else my parents will think that I've abducted you or something." Given that she'd stolen him away from his room, the sentence isn't entirely wrong... "Gotta be careful, Angel baby. I know many captains who'd take advantage of your sexy legs. You're lucky I found you first." 

There's a visible moment of hesitation before Captain Dross disentangles herself from Angelo, silver eyes sweeping over the courier once more - appreciating how he looks entirely too tempting like that, on her bed.

Sunlight plays over the lines of her muscles as she stretches, unashamed of her nakedness, and bends down to retrieve some clothes.

"Hey, baby." There's little warning before a familiar Christmas sweater sails through the air , hopefully to hit Angelo in the face. "Catch." The flash of a grin peeks out from her lips, quickly gone as the captain busies herself by actually putting on some clothes. Her proximity to the door brings a delicious scent to her nose - her father's pancakes.

And as tempting as Angelo might look in that moment, Skyler's attention is already shifting away.

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Silver eyes follow the outline of a muscled leg peeking out from rumpled sheets on purpose, denim jeans halting their movement up sun-kissed legs as temptation sits on her tongue. For a moment Skyler imagines her hand gripping onto a tan calf to pull a certain blue eyed boy to her, only to then mercilessly capture his lips with her own and guide him back down onto the mattress...

But then they might not leave her room for some time, and the thought of either of her parents knocking on her door while... well, it dissuades her from acting on that particular impulse. Later, the captain promises herself, pulling the jeans the rest of the way up her legs. And although she forces her silver gaze to linger elsewhere, a languorous warmth still rolls through her.

"You wear that Christmas sweater so well, Angel, I couldn't bear to take it away from you." Her own sweater easily slips over her head, briefly hiding from sight the shit-eating grin that stretches her lips. "I'm afraid the secret's out, baby. Everyone in my family knows you're my 'ho'." And other things too, if yesterday's reactions are anything to go by...

There is an attempt to tame the mess of blonde curls on her head, quickly abandoned when fingers snag on stubborn knots and a curse is spat into the air. The strands of gold are instead pulled into a ponytail, already starting to come loose as Skyler sneaks out into the corridor on bare feet, beckoning for Angelo to follow with a curl of her finger and mischief dancing on the edge of her smile.

Before they get to the kitchen, the captain would try to get a sneaky kiss out of him. 

The kitchen is awash in morning sunlight and the delicious smell of pancakes when Skyler steps inside. The hulking figure of Mr Dross is bent over what seems to be a batch of freshly made pancakes, humming an unrecognizable, off-key tune. "Morning, papa!"

The reaction is immediate. A wide, affectionate grin overtakes the man's expression at the sight of the blonde haired captain. "Honey bee! G'morning! I thought these would bring you down." Brown eyes shift to focus warmly on another figure, and large hand pats the nearby table. "You too, champ! Eat up, there's more than enough for everyone." 

Instead of sitting on a chair like a normal person, Captain Skyler hops onto the countertop and accepts the plate her father gives her with a giddy smile. No scolding follows her action, and it soon becomes apparent this is somewhat of a ritual in the Dross household. 

"Sleep well?"

The voice comes out of nowhere, and should Angelo turn to his right he'd find familiar silver eyes sparkling up at him, the hint of a smirk pulling at Mrs Dross' mouth. On her lap is an Espeon, its eyes slightly glazed as the floating wheelchair is gently deposited onto the floor. "It must be difficult to spend Christmas away from family, so please make yourself at home, Angelo. As you've seen," her smile grows wider, "we aren't big on formalities." 

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