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The first time is a freak accident.
They're walking along a path on the side of a mountain. The path keeps switching between horribly narrow or luxuriantly wide; there's no railing or wall or anything, but they're both perfectly capable of walking along a path.
"I thought I might do something with that roc egg we found for dinner," Corazon says.
"You really want to eat it?" Prudence says skeptically.
"Merilwen says it isn't fertilized," Corazon says. "No money in it. Might as well make a big omelette."
"I thought we were going to stop at that little town at the foot of the mountain," Prudence says.
"Maybe tomorrow," Corazon says. "We'll never get down there in time for tonight."
"If you all would learn how to hustle, we could get down the mountain in no-"
There is a cracking sound, and Prudence has fallen. Corazon does the only thing he can do; he backs up, pushes off the rock, and swan dives towards her.
Corazon blinks against the sudden wind, making himself wait for a long, agonizing inhale, a slow breath out. Feather fall is very good but it is not infallible, and if she's too high when the spell ends, she'll hit the ground without any more feather left in her. This feels like a dream, like it can't possibly be happening, and yet.
Finally he can't stand it anymore, casting the spell. It immediately arrests his fall, lowering him gently, taking Prudence out of his line of sight, but she is still much too far from the ground. Corazon angles his body towards the mountain's surface, catching himself nimbly, then dashes and dashes and dashes to find Prudence.
It feels like an hour before he makes it, though it must only be a minute or two. When he finally joins her, Prudence is laying on her side on the ground, and Corazon feels his heart leap into his throat.
"Ow," Prudence says, and Corazon feels like he can finally breathe.
"Hey, it's okay," Corazon says, going to his knees next to her. "It's gonna be alright. You're not dead yet."
"I think I landed on a badger," Prudence says.
Corazon thinks she's probably hallucinating a little, but he looks anyway. He grimaces; it wasn't a badger, so much as a rock. If she'd hit her head, it would have been lights out, permanently.
"Looks like he got away," Corazon says, instead of broaching that particular topic.
"It's all my fault," Prudence says miserably.
"We can worry about whose fault it is later," Corazon says, because lying to her won't help anyone. "Everything is gonna be alright. We'll get you out of here."
And then Corazon realizes he doesn't know where they are.
He is aware that they were once at the top of the mountain and now they are not, but mountains are notoriously 3-dimensional places, and the bottom of the mountain consists of miles and miles, ones that will have to be searched by three people who don't know where the two of them fell from.
Prudence does not look good, not that Corazon has any understanding of medicine. He also doesn't have a single healing potion to his name, like an idiot. "Here's what we'll do," Corazon tells her gently. "It's not too cold out here at night. I'm gonna light a fire, and you're gonna sleep. Get eight hours, you'll be well enough to walk."
"Okay," Prudence says, and Corazon feels like he's been stabbed through the neck.
Corazon focuses on the rote motions of clearing away brush, gathering fuel, lighting a fire. It's not even sundown yet, but if he can just get Prudence warm and drowsy, she'll fall right to sleep. He just has to get her to sleep, and then it's just eight hours. He only has to do this for eight hours. He'll be tired, but they'll both be alive.
Prudence isn't saying anything, but Corazon keeps looking over his shoulder at her, watching for the rise and fall of her chest. In a perfect world, she'd just pass out right this second. The good kind of passing out, not the bad kind, though in a truly perfect world she wouldn't have fallen in the first place.
Night is starting to fall, and Corazon- it's not that he hugely dislikes being in the woods, and the area around this mountain is more scraggly and open that most forests. Corazon definitely does hate this, specifically. The dangerous terrain he's prepared to navigate is the expanse of the open sea, and also sometimes rich society. He definitely prefers risking the kraken, but that's neither here nor there.
"Corazon?" Prudence says.
His heart seizes. "Yeah?"
"I'd kill you last," she says. "You could be a good minion for the great work of Cthulhu."
He sighs. "Thank you, Prudence, that's very thoughtful."
"You could be my lackey," she says, like a normal person would say something sweet. "I could use you for my dark ends. You'd be so good at it."
Corazon doesn't have the first fucking clue what to say to that shit. "Of course," he says, because she doesn't actually need that statement unpacked for her right now. Besides, he would be good at it. She's only ever needed to say the word. She's never gonna say the word, and situations like this one make it harder to deal with that. Corazon's only a good option when she's out of her head, and he's not gonna tell her that he's known that for a while.
Prudence mutters something, but Corazon doesn't catch it; she's on the edge of sleep. He doesn't want to do anything at all to endanger that. The sooner Prudence is well enough to leave, all of this will go away.
And then it's dark, and he's alone, just sitting here next to Prudence, trying to convey some of his body heat through contact. He thinks about making a shelter, but something about not being able to see everything around him just really bothers him.
As a rogue, he likes the darkness; as a pirate and an extrovert, he does not like being trapped in the woods. He has to keep the fire stoked, or he won't be able to see anything. Every little noise seems like a dire warning. It's bullshit, basically. Give him a fight in an alleyway any day.
The moon has risen now, and Prudence is still asleep. He keeps wanting to take her by the shoulder and shake her awake, but that would be completely counterproductive. He's so glad that she's sleeping at all; being on the hard ground with a severe injury doesn't lend itself to rest. He just has to keep his head on a swivel for eight hours. Eight hours, and she'll be safe.
She does look sweet when she sleeps. Her face relaxes, just the tips of her fangs visible where her mouth hangs open. She's scooted closer, maybe unconsciously, pressed against Corazon's thigh, no doubt just looking for warmth. Her sleep is untroubled, peaceful, which is good considering that it did occur to Corazon when it was far too late that she might have a concussion. As long as nothing disturbs them, it'll be okay.
He'd fight almost anything for her. She's better than him, cool and powerful and full of a boundless supply of rage when the world won't bend to her will. The night is getting colder now, but there's nothing to be done, nothing but look out with his useless human eyes into black and more black. A fog has rolled in, obscuring the moonlight. It'll be a long watch.
He sits, and he stands guard, and then he wakes up, blinking, his head pillowed on Prudence's haversack. It's past dawn, and Prudence is speaking to someone, somewhere above Corazon's head.
"We fell," she's saying. "Yeah, do not recommend, will request refund." She pauses. "You try that. I'm gonna get a lock on you with my seeing eye, and we'll meet in the middle."
"Hey," Corazon says groggily. "You alright?"
"You must not be, if you sound like that," Prudence says, and Corazon is baffled by the idea. "Exposure can kill you."
"It's much better than falling off a mountain," Corazon says, sitting up.
"Most things are better than falling off a mountain," Prudence says.
"Are you alright?" Corazon asks.
He doesn't know what it must have sounded like, but Prudence frowns, looking concerned. "Yeah, of course I'm alright. I got my eight, so I'm ready to go."
"Good," he says, and then he levers himself off the ground. "Are you about to scry?"
"It's technically not scrying," Prudence says, shutting her eyes and putting her fingers to her temples. "It's a directional sensor. Now cram it so I can concentrate."
Corazon throws up his hands and goes to find a suitable tree. It's gonna be a long walk back.
==
The second time is sheer carelessness.
They're in a bad part of the harbor town of Portnoy. There are no good parts of the harbor town of Portnoy, but even by the low standards of such a place, this is not a part to be in. "They" currently only means Prudence and Corazon, who are looking for one of Corazon's piratical connections.
Corazon does not know where this woman is, other than a seedy street mostly full of pirates. Corazon does, however, know how to find her. There's all this stuff with the ins and outs of thieves' cant and that type of thing, back alley deals and code phrases. Prudence finds it both frustrating and boring. The easiest way to find someone in a hostile environment is to start throwing eldritch blasts around the place and let Cthulhu sort 'em out.
Apparently that's "unnecessarily hostile" and "damage we'd probably end up having to pay for." Some people have no imagination.
What's really wild about the whole thing is that they do find said lady pirate. She's sitting there smoking a long, hooked pipe, and she looks at Corazon like he's a tasty piece of meat, which makes Prudence narrow her eyes. The woman conveys the information to them; she keeps blatantly hitting on Corazon, but Corazon has this preternatural ability to keep his eyes on the prize. Prudence thinks maybe he just doesn't notice when people are hitting on him. It's both annoying and fascinating.
They've got what they came for, and it's now time to continue to phase two. Before they head out, they decide to have a pint and talk out the next steps. This should take ten or fifteen minutes, tops. They almost walk out without even getting any drinks, just because it's so loud that they're having to yell at each other to be understood.
That's why neither of them see the bartender drop something into their pints. Much later they'll reach the conclusion that it was intended for Corazon, a certain drug only effective on humans, other species being immune. They never do get a solid answer, but everything points towards a very average plan to drug and rob Corazon.
The best thing would have been for Corazon to have taken one look at his beer and dashed it onto the ground. What actually happened is that Corazon picked it up and chugged half of it before Prudence saw the particulate at the bottom of the glass. At that point, Prudence slapped it out of his hand.
"The hell, Prue?" Corazon says, looking baffled.
She doesn't know what to say, so she picks up her glass and points at the bottom, where little white flecks are settling. The bartender absolutely notices, and he pulls a club from under the bar.
"Fuck's sake," Corazon says, and he draws his cutlass.
It's fast-acting but not instant, and Corazon does have time to help Prudence fight their way out of there before he starts slurring his words. At that point, Prudence picks him up like a backpack and just takes off running in the direction they're already facing. There aren't a lot of people left around to contradict her, and she runs as fast as her little werebear legs will carry her. Her heart is pounding, but that's not important, that's nothing compared to what'll happen if she doesn't run.
In the way of harbor towns, the pirates are not very far from the quaint seaside district, where they sell lots of fried fish and offer tours of Geth's Shortest Road for two copper. Prudence comes in hot and just aims for the nearest place that looks like an inn. She's out of breath and badly wants a cigarette, and she's sure Corazon doesn't look any better.
"Newlyweds?" Prudence says uncertainly, but she is shown to a room either way.
She slings Corazon onto the bed, stretching her arms and rolling her shoulders. "Are you still alive?" she asks, and if it's a little bit gruff, that's just the exertion.
"I dunno," Corazon says. He's just laying there in the position she dropped him. He doesn't really look peaceful, but for now he looks quiescent. The biggest problem is that his pupils are shaking side to side.
"That can't be good," Prudence says under her breath.
She draws all the curtains and fills the basin with water. He didn't have a full dose. That's surely better than the alternative, but Prudence has no way of knowing, no way of helping.
"Cthulhu, please help," she says quietly, even though Cthulhu will not save her on this one.
Corazon is sweating, so much so that his shirt is wet and clinging to him. She really doesn't know whether she's supposed to strip him or leave him like it is. She's also thinking that it might not end up mattering, though she's trying not to. Instead she finds a flannel, dipping it into the basin and wringing it out. She sits down next to him and dabs his forehead, his face. His skin is so much hotter than it really should be, too hot even by her standards.
She weighs her options. She doesn't like the idea of calling for a cleric, just because there are a couple of guys out there somewhere who want to murder them. Prudence is perfectly happy with murdering them back, but it might blow the whole thing they're trying to do there. She also genuinely doesn't know if a cleric would get here in time, unless they're right outside when she opens the door.
Corazon's in a very bad way. She would love to be able to sugar coat it, slap him on the arm and tell him to walk it off, but that's just not what's happening. This is very bad, and it's entirely possible it's going to get worse very soon.
She's trying to focus on one thing at a time, so she makes to stand up, wanting to rinse the cloth, cool it down. "Please don't leave me," Corazon says, grabbing weakly at her.
She doesn't know what to say to something like that; he sounds so pathetic, but the kind that makes her want to reach out instead of shoving him away. She sits down again, unable to do anything else.
"I'm right here," she says.
So she just stays with him. She mops his brow and tries to compartmentalize. That always works for her; the more annoyed she is, the less she thinks about her problems.
His eyes have gone unfocused, sweat dripping off him. There's nothing else to be done. Corazon is going to die like this, because there's simply no intervention to give him.
Prudence does what so many people do in that situation; she puts her hands together and starts praying.
There's nothing for a while, just the unsteady gasp of Corazon's breathing. It won't be long now. It would have been a kindness if he'd received the whole dose. He could have just died in an alley, taken out like a chump but retaining his dignity. Surely this isn't what he deserves. Surely Cthulhu will realize that she-
There is the slap of a tentacle against one wall, then the other, like something is attempting to claw its way into the room, hoist itself into reality through sheer force of will. Most people who pray are undertaking a process of beseeching a god who probably can't hear or won't listen, if they exist at all. For Prudence, it's more like calling her dad to pick her up because she's scared.
The room quakes, though people outside its walls don't feel it. There is a tear in the floor that smells like ozone and rot, and Dread Cthulhu, in His most humanoid guise, rises into being.
"Prudence," He says, His voice strong but concerned.
"Oh great Cthulhu," she says, but she doesn't get any further, her voice choked.
"My dear Prudence," He says, putting a tentacle under her chin to lift it up. He looks past her at the bed. "It's the pirate, isn't it." He pets Prudence's hair with His hand. "He's marked with My terrible Sign anyway. Just for you-"
Corazon sits bolt upright, gasping loudly.
"Be careful, little one," Cthulhu says, squeezing Prudence's shoulder, and He's gone.
"What the hell just happened?" Corazon says, looking bewildered.
Prudence knows intellectually that the danger has passed, but the whole thing is making her want to just lie on the floor for a while until things get more normal.
So she does it. Nobody's allowed to judge her.
"You were poisoned," she says.
He looks down over the edge of the bed at her. "Poisoned?" He makes a noise of frustration. "I knew that bartender was shady. I was just too thirsty to care about being murdered."
"We've all been there," she says, shutting her eyes.
"Prudence, are you alright?" he asks, sounding alarmed. He pauses. "You don't have to answer that. I don't think you'd be laying on the floor if you were. I'm gonna get cleaned up, and then we can talk about it."
"Okay," Prudence says.
Corazon steps out of the room; when he comes back, he's much less sweaty and carrying food, both of which are appreciated. He sits down next to Prudence on the floor, passing her her portion and not questioning while she's still down here.
"Am I imagining the part where Cthulhu showed up?" Corazon asks.
"Nope," Prudence says.
"Why didn't he come when you fell down a mountain?" Corazon asks.
She doesn't know how to explain and doesn't want to unpack what really happened here. She didn't call for him on the mountain because she was too out of it to remember she could. She called for him tonight because of her weakness. She pushes Corazon away over and over and hopes that one day he will decide that she's being serious. That doesn't mean that she could let him die when she had another chance.
"Because I was going to be fine," Prudence says.
Corazon pauses. "Well, let's ignore the implications of that forever."
"Also He says that He's marked you," Prudence says, looking at Corazon suspiciously.
"Oh right, yeah," Corazon says. "Honestly, I'm so cursed that I barely notice them anymore."
"You can't just get marked by my patron," Prudence says.
"I did it because I was trying to help you," Corazon says, and Prudence is aware she's not going to get an apology. She's really not even sure whether she wants one.
"Whatever," Prudence says, instead of pushing it. "Do we stay the night or head back? We've got the intel."
"We've paid for a room, we should stay in it," Corazon says.
"I haven't actually paid yet," Prudence says.
"We're in a room, we should slip out the window in the morning," Corazon says. "Are you gonna sleep on the floor?"
"Absolutely not," Prudence says. "What kind of girl do you take me for?"
--
The third time, it is what it is.
They're not on a quest; it's not even a pub crawl. They're just in an unfamiliar part of Geth, a port city with night life to spare, and they go out to have a good time, uninterrupted by their typical bullshit.
At this point, having almost died, you would think that neither Corazon nor Prudence would take food offered to them in a market. However, it's been labeled "Free Samples", so they both jump at the chance. What they're served are small squares, something like gelatin candy. They have a floral taste, unusual but not unpleasant, and a bite of spice.
"What plant did you say this was?" Corazon asks, after they've already eaten it.
"We call it the thunderflower," the vendor says, with a winning smile.
"See, that is how you name a flower," Prudence says. Neither of them have the first intention of buying any of this stuff, so they head along towards the bar.
For about thirty minutes, everything is absolutely normal. Merilwen gets drunk almost immediately, while Dob stares at the bartender, probably falling in love already. Egbert has found someone he knows, which probably means that he's on his way to securing their next quest, intentionally or not.
Prudence and Corazon are sitting at the bar, having a pint; it's been a long few days, and they are currently uninterested in dealing with it sober. They're not really saying much to each other, but it's a companionable silence, the type you can let happen when you've been friends for so long.
Corazon motions for two more. Prudence points to her own eyes, then at the bartender, because they're not doing that shit again.
They have already done that shit again, but they've yet to find that out.
Life looks more pleasant a pint and a half in, and Corazon turns on his barstool, just enough that he's looking at Prudence more fully. Prudence is really beautiful in the light of the tavern. Something about the quality of it seems so much more golden, glinting off of her, pouring across her skin. Corazon doesn't find it surprising, or at least he doesn't find it alarming; sometimes Prudence just looks like that to him.
If he was more in control of his faculties, Corazon would notice that he seems very intoxicated to only have had two drinks. Maybe it's because he doesn't feel drunk, so he isn't expecting it. Instead his skin feels sensitive, like the hair on the whole of his body is standing up. His heart isn't quite racing, but he feels a drive in him, a sense that, for Corazon, is like standing at the prow and letting the wind whip through him. Prudence isn't experiencing it the same way. It feels like stretching out her hand towards a tear in the fabric of space, the exhilarating rush of almost being destroyed.
Neither Prudence nor Corazon has noticed that they're touching each other. It started with their hands resting next to each other on the bar. Right now, Corazon is holding Prudence's arm, his face pressed into the crook of her elbow, and at any moment he's going to start kissing his way upwards. Prudence has her other hand on the back of his neck, up under his ponytail so that she can brush her fingers over the short hairs there, the warmth of his skin.
"Huh," Dob says.
Merilwen looks up, following his line of sight. "Huh," she adds, after a moment.
Egbert leans over from the next table. "Does that seem normal to you guys?"
"Nothing is normal about Corazon getting any," Merilwen says.
"Harsh but fair," Dob says.
"I know that neither of them are particularly experienced, but surely they know you don't do it by rubbing your faces on each other," Egbert says.
"Should we do something?" Dob asks.
Neither Corazon nor Prudence has noticed any of this conversation. Corazon is lost in the sensation of Prudence running her hands through his hair. There's so much more to come, but this action itself is so mesmerizing, so completely captivating.
What is supposed to happen at this point, per the scam, is that the confederate of the original seller shows up to either sell them more or offer a cure at an untenable price. That man is currently in the back of the room, unseen by all of them. He's about to make his move, but Corazon and Prudence aren't paying the slightest bit of attention. She surges forward, finally about to kiss him-
"Alright, come along quietly," Egbert says, and Corazon finds himself two feet off the ground, in a bear hug. He looks around wildly for Prudence, who's currently trying to claw her way out of Dob's grasp. Now that he's not actually touching Prudence, the feeling has abated somewhat, at least enough for Corazon's head to clear.
"We should go back to the ship," Corazon says.
"You read my mind," Egbert says, and he does not put Corazon down until they are on the Joyful Damnation. Prudence is currently blindfolded and being held at the wrists by Dob; half of this was Prudence's suggestion, and you can guess which half for yourself.
Corazon wonders if she's feeling how he's feeling. He doesn't think a blindfold would change anything. He feels like he's being led to her, like he could find her in a crowd of thousands, like the space between them is horrifically distant but also meaningless.
There is a significant part of Corazon that he is currently feeling led by. You couldn't make it into a compass unless you could magnetize it. He could do a pretty good impression of a sun dial, if that was what anybody wanted.
"Do you have any idea what happened?" Egbert says. "We're not cross, we just want to help."
"The guy at the shop who gave us free treats," Prudence says. She's currently addressing the wall, given that she can't see where the rest of them are, but it's kind of whatever.
"Did he say what was in them?" Egbert asks.
Corazon wracks his brain. "Something flower."
"But it had like a weathery, seasony name," Prudence says.
"A butch one," Corazon says.
"Yeah," Prudence agrees.
"I really hope this isn't what I think it is," Merilwen says ominously.
"What do you think it is?" Dob asks.
"Thunderflower," Merilwen says, but there's no recognition from the rest of them. "Have you ever heard of skitterweed?"
"I'm out," Egbert says, almost before she finishes the word, turning and walking out. "I want absolutely no part of any of this bullshit. I'll see you when they're normal. You need divine intervention for that stuff, and it is not worth bothering La Vache Mauve. I want Him to respect me."
"Uh," Dob says, perplexed. "No?"
"Or maybe like kingsmane or the green cherry vine?" Merilwen says.
"Please get to the point," Corazon says. He feels like he can't hold still, like an itch but also not at all.
"Wait," Dob says. "Is this the same thing as false banana sap?" Apparently it's too weird for everyone even in context, and Dob receives confused looks. "It's a parasitic plant that grows on trees, looks like bananas. People dry up the sap and smoke it to make them- oh no."
"The point is, you're both very unwell," Merilwen says, addressing Prudence and Corazon. "It's for the best that the two of you are separated, so that you can be protected from-"
She looks over to see Prudence with a death grip on Corazon's arm, dragging him out of the room. "See you nerds tomorrow," Corazon says, and he gladly lets himself be pulled away.
"Is that actually going to help?" Dob asks.
"I don't know," Merilwen says. "If it's what I think it is, they'll burn themselves out."
"Leave them some lube next to the door, got it," Dob says confidently.
Merilwen doesn't even know where to begin with all of that. Maybe it's time for that wine she didn't get to drink.
In Corazon's quarters, Prudence shoves him onto the bed and climbs in after him. He can't stop grabbing, touching, craving anything he can get. It isn't the same as before; it won't be enough to touch and hold, the need built up too great by being apart from her.
"I want you so much," Corazon says, pulling her down and kissing her hungrily. "I've wanted you for years."
"You better hope you're ready to get me," Prudence says, and she doesn't even take her shirt off, just rips it down the middle and throws the scraps away.
"God, you're beautiful," he breathes. He sits up, bringing them closer, and just starts worshiping her breasts, kissing and licking and sucking, pressing his face against her just to be close.
"Don't stop," she groans, grinding down on him. He's hard against her, and she's suspended between the sheer pleasure of his mouth and the intense agony of not having him inside her.
She breaks down before he does, pushing him back. He lands with his hands braced on the bed, open and wanting. She grabs the laces of his breeches with one finger and pulls, popping them open. She's still wearing her stupid leggings, and she rips those apart too. He gets his breeches open, finally freeing his cock. She can't fathom how she ever wanted anything so much, her body giving a pulse at the very thought.
"Are you ready?" Corazon says breathlessly.
"Give it to me," she says, staring him down.
She kneels up, taking him down all in one movement. The incredible relief of the two of them together is so overwhelming as to beggar belief. It's the purest moment of pleasure imaginable, a lessening of pain like a joint popping back into the socket. This is what is right, it always would have been right, and now it feels like there's no going back.
They move together, reduced to one entity. Their rhythm matches effortlessly, and somehow it's so comforting, like returning to a natural order even though they've never felt it before. Corazon's never had sex, but right now that's meaningless; no one has ever had sex like this. It is everything, every thing he's ever wanted rolled into one, an overloading of his body that makes him feel like he'll explode into a ball of light.
"Corazon," Prudence pants, and there's such a longing inside of it. "Corazon, Corazon-"
Corazon finds himself beyond words; he just growls, feral, not a noise of aggression but of satisfaction. He rolls them over, giving himself more leverage, and Prudence throws her head back, the column of her neck so beautiful in the dim light. He kisses it, unable to help himself, all over her neck and her shoulders, everywhere that will have him.
He can't even really remember how they got to this point, like being close to Prudence has made him forget everything else. There is so much behind it, so many times that they saved or helped or insulted each other, but the moment, the look on her face, the way the pleasure wipes out absolutely everything, it makes this seem like one perfect, infinitely suspended moment, nothing in the entire universe except the two of them.
And then they're done, and the room feels ten degrees colder. Corazon feels bewildered, even though he knows exactly how this happened. He lays down next to Prudence, pulling the covers up over himself just so he'll feel less naked. He doesn't know how she's experiencing it, but he feels something withdraw from his brain, wriggling out in a really unpleasant way. He feels cold, alone, and it leaves him teetering on the edge of collapse.
But then Prudence, staring at the ceiling, says, "That was the best fuck of my entire life."
Corazon puts his hand behind his head, feeling better. "Me too, I guess."
Prudence gives him a withering look, but then she makes a noise of frustration. "I forgot you were a virgin."
"Was that a compliment or an insult?" he asks, frowning.
She waves a hand. "I should have been nicer or whatever."
"Oh yeah, because losing my virginity in a fit of passion to the person I really hoped was gonna take it was absolute torture," he says. It's more than he meant to say, but something has him feeling unwound. "Who would want to get ridden like a post horse? Unfathomable."
"What's a post horse?" she asks.
"Is that not what they call the horses that you carry mail on?" he says, concerned. "Honestly I was just trying to think of horses with jobs where they go fast."
"The majority of horse jobs are fast," she points out. "They don't use them for mills."
"That's because the horses are too smart," he says. "They'd unionize."
That's where Prudence starts giggling about the horse union, because the thunderflower is still affecting them a little. It is a pretty funny thought, admittedly. How would they even pick their representative?
"The worst part is the druid scabs," Prudence says, and Corazon starts laughing about it too. He still doesn't know what his mind is doing, but it feels good to laugh, cutting through the miasma a little bit.
They lapse into silence again, and she wiggles closer. He'd offer her his arm to lay on, but it feels like it takes coordination, what with the horns and all. Instead he settles for playing with her hair, enjoying how smooth it is against his fingers. It's thick, but the strands of her hair whisper against each other as he combs his hand through them.
"Do you still feel a little bit-" she says, leaving it open.
He raises an eyebrow. "It's not a little bit."
She rolls onto her side, facing away from him. "Like this."
"Ooh," he says, following after her, kissing her shoulder before pulling her towards him.
It's so easy to push inside of her, her body so hot against his. It feels completely natural, like this is obviously what should be happening, so clear that it's self-evident.
Sex is awesome. He really should have found a way to do it before now. Then again, it wouldn't have been with Prudence, and he can't fathom wanting anybody else.
Like this, he doesn't have all that much leverage, so he just rocks into her, taking his time. She grabs his hand, holding it to her chest, and he can feel her pulse through his fingers, just as fast as his. They move together perfectly, without the least bit of hesitation or the smallest problem. It could have always been like this; it should have always been like this, the two of them just letting themselves be here together.
"I could do this for hours," Prudence says, sounding so peaceful.
"Let's try it out," Corazon says, and they do.
By the time Dob walks in, he finds Prudence laying on her back, smoking a cigarette. Her other hand is playing with Corazon's hair, his head resting on her chest, his arm around her waist. Prudence notices him immediately, but Corazon doesn't clock him until a moment later. He tries to cover Prudence's dignity, but he's just got one arm to do it with. He flails for a moment, then puts his arm back around her waist.
"Costs you nothing to look," Prudence says shamelessly.
"So, um," Dob says.
"Hell yeah we did," Corazon says.
"I didn't actually ask a question," Dob points out.
"It was understood," Prudence says. "And it was hot. Twice."
"It is still messing with our inhibitions a little bit," Corazon reports.
"Interesting," Dob says. "Are the two of you alright?"
"More than we've been in a while," Prudence says, surprising Corazon. "We've needed to fuck and get it over with for ages."
"Excuse me?" Corazon says.
Prudence pats him on the arm. "Don't worry. You passed."
"I don't trust anything about this," Corazon says, "but a win is a win."
"Should I offer to get you some orange juice or something?" Dob asks. "I'm not sure what to do in this situation."
"Nobody needs to do anything," Corazon says. "Unless the ship is attacked. Then I definitely need to do a couple of things."
"I'm going to tell the others that the two of you need more rest," Dob says.
"That's probably a good thing to tell them," Corazon says, eying Prudence up in a way that he probably thinks Dob doesn't see.
"I figured I'd tell them that instead of what you're obviously about to do," Dob says. He turns, walking towards the door, leaving them to their own devices. "Enjoy your trip, have a nice ride, call me when you're ready to have a threesome."
Dob shuts the door.
"Do you want to have a threesome with Dob?" Prudence says thoughtfully.
"Bold of you to think we're done with this part yet," Corazon says, pulling him to her, and she laughs, letting him.