(no subject)

[x-dazzler.livejournal.com]

Alison indulges in a favorite habit of hers and gets found out this time. Of course, tripping and falling flat on her butt might have something to do with the whole 'being caught in the act' thing. 100% fluff.

Haroun looked down at the floor of his suite's living room, mapping boundaries inside of his mind.

A six-foot-by-six foot box. That's all the room he was going to be given. To make things easier, he placed Alison's Moroccan teacups at the corners of the box, as a visual reference. And because the day was fair and he was already running a touch warm, he stripped down to just a pair of very loosely-fitting camo pants. Standing in the center of the box, he began the tai chi form Alison had showed him.

The form was graceful, and flowed from move to move. The moves floated, almost ethereal in their subtlety and grace. Other moves were full of the potential of explosive power, muted into something steady and controlled. The key to tai chi was the blending of the two, and the circumstances in which they were utilized.

She'd heard him moving about the tea table in the living room area of the suite, the Moroccan style carpet rolled up and also set aside, an ensuing moment of silence followed by a steadying of breathing she knew very well by now. Curious to see what he was up to, she padded over to the door and slowly swung it open, making sure to do so soundlessly and slowly to as to not draw his attention and distract him from his practice. The sight of him going through one of the low sweeps, effortlessly so, distracted her entirely from her original plan, which involved heading back to the bed to watch from there. Instead, she watched, the play of sunlight on his back highlighting the interplay of muscles with each controlled motion he made.

Haroun felt a muscle or something in his lower back go twang, but he steadfastly ignored it as he gracefully stepped through another low sweep. The form demanded absolute control, to leash the moves, only unleashing their power at the absolute last second before impact. Haroun felt like he had it mastered, but he wanted to practice it more before bring it to Alison, getting her take on it. Once she saw it and liked it, then they could go to their sifu and demonstrate the form before her unyielding gaze.

He was still forcing the end of some of the moves, a corner of Al's mind noticed analytically, instead of flowing through them with the same rhythm and speed – it was the one thing that sifu was still trying to work out of him when he did the Forms, though she was patiently admitting that the wealth of his former training was something that would take a while to overcome there. But that small corner of her mind soon went silent and she took a slow, small breath, holding it as he leveled out of the low sweep and settled in a horse stand again, reversing one of the moves perfectly to stay within the boundaries of the box.

Guh. Swallowing a mite heavily, Alison took a step back to return to the bed, to keep watching where she wouldn't have to concentrate on leaning upon something to stay steady. Or tried to, rather, ending up flailing her arms as she fell backwards on her butt.

Haroun heard the thump, but he refused to let it distract him from finishing out the form. He was almost done, and he wasn't the sort to leave a form undone. Only a few more moves left in the form, more of the low horse stances that flowed into the strikes and blocks of the form.

Not moving, eyes shut and wincing a bit at the pain – which is what she deserved for falling so badly in the first place – Alison cracked an eye open, finally, and could have cheered for joy. Haroun, true to anyone going through a tai chi form, had refused to allow any distraction to jar him out of it and was still going through it. Near the end, which meant Alison remained absolutely motionless as she watched, the glimmer of an enraptured expression showing through on her face, thinking processes having ground to a slow halt a while ago, in favor of unabashedly taking in every single detail she could.

Haroun pulled through the last move of the form and returned to his starting point, bowing to the wall. Then, and only then, he turned to see Alison, sprawled out on the floor. "Not your usual choice of perch. Everything OK?" he asked her with a smile, moving over to offer her a hand to stand.

"Oh yes." She reached up to grasp his hand, grinning a bit as he pulled her up with no apparent effort. Meaning she ended up very close to him indeed since she really didn't feel like taking a step back, not one bit. Apparently, her mind had gone from "Guh – ogling the pretty" to "Guh – standing right next to and let's ooze out my owner's ears now, yes" in the time she'd gone from sitting on the floor to standing right next to him. "I just tripped and fell." The light flush on her skin was instantly mimicked on her cheeks as she realized what she'd just admitted to.

Haroun quirked an eyebrow at her. "Tripped and fell." he repeated, and then grinned at her. "Alison Blaire, were you checking me out?" he asked with a disbelieving laugh. The thought brought a gigantic grin to his face, and he had to wrestle with the urge to pose for her benefit.

"Grmlplx!" The sound was emitted with a grin in return, any embarrassment at being caught out easily overwhelmed by amusement and appreciation. Much appreciation. "I'll have you know there's a lot to check out, thank you." There, that was more coherent and sounded better than random sounds due to massive brain oozing from head syndrome. And there were only a few inches left between them, somehow, at that point. "Checking you out. Yeah, I was." Thinking was getting hard again.

"Not that much. Just from about here on up." he said, trapping one of her hands at the demarcation line between Man and Machine. "But I'm glad you like what you see. You know, I don't think I'm really very happy with the way that form came out. I'd better do it again. Care to spot ... me on it?" he insinuated with a grin.

The skin under her hand was warm and defined and really, she had no more brains left to ooze away now, did she? "Like what I see. Lots. You need to keep the pace even all the time – no end moves," she muttered thickly, letting herself close the rest of the thankfully small distance between them, breathing in slowly. Sun warmed skin and the lingering smell of soap and clean skin. And he'd just asked her a question at one point, she realized. "...mmm?"

Haroun decided right then and there that he'd crossed over into Fantasy-land at some point or another. That's the only thing that could explain the situation he was in right now. "All right." he said, hooking a chair with a foot and bringing it over to him. "Chairs are much more comfortable than floors." he pointed out helpfully, and then parked Alison's butt into said chair. "Watch. Critique." he said, and then returned back to the center of the Box to start the form over again.

Sitting on the chair with a woeful look, Alison tried not to whimper. Away! All that nice sense of Haroun had moved away. It was massively unfair. Oh so much. Trying to clear her thoughts and do as he'd ask, Alison focused on him once more. "...slower then. Yeah." This was not going to be the critique Haroun wanted. Though at least asking him to slow down now and then was perfectly acceptable at thing to do, as far as her hormones were concerned!

Haroun kicked the form down a notch, still keeping the same dynamic tension and the same intensity, but with slower, more focused movements. He flowed from movement to movement, stance to stance, technique to technique like he'd been performing this way for years.

That the motions breathed inherently of what Haroun was, the focus and intensity brought to the form as much as the purely physical aspect of it was what made Alison's breath catch in her throat this time, heat dancing on her skin in response. It was, she decided, a very good thing she was sitting down this time around and waiting for him to be done was pretty much all she could manage to mind herself to do.

Haroun flowed through this iteration of the form, neither snapping his motions out too aggressively or letting them waft out on the breeze in an excessively passive manner. He was balanced, he was focused, and he was walking the line between the two, the line between Yin and Yang, like a master would.

Until he got perhaps three-quarters of the way through the form, and inadvertently stepped outside of the Box.

The small whimpering sound of dismay had more to do with the fact that this meant he would start all over again as opposed to just keep going and then get it done with so she could... do something. Anything. "I need a cold shower now." The statement was made with perfect solemnity, Alison pushing herself up on slightly unsteady legs. She would not be able to sit through another entire form without doing something very very unladylike. So really, taking the cold shower was a good thing to do! And Haroun could keep practicing during that time. "Very cold shower." Or something.

Haroun grinned at that. "Nope. Sit your butt down, missy. I'm not done here, which means you're not done here. I still want that critique - I swung that sweep out too far, stepped outside the Box. Sloppy, stupid mistake. One more run-through, then you can go hit the showers." he said with a truly evil grin. If she wanted to watch, then he was going to indulge her.

She stared at him for a moment, the wicked delight he was taking in all of this actually not really helping matters much. "So mean." Sitting down again a bit too quickly, Alison tried to work on something resembling normal breathing. "You... I don't think I'll be able to walk to the shower at this rate," she muttered. Moistening her lips, she tried to give him a reproachful look. "Um. Reverse the move before the sweep next time. Give you more room to work with." She hoped that made sense.

"And here I thought you not being able to walk was a consummation devoutly to be wished." he said with a laugh. "OK, from the top..." he said, and got back into position to begin the form once again. Same intensity as before, same speed, but just a touch more time between moves - so he could double- and triple-check his spacing before making his next move.

It was, really, getting too hot in the room. So it was only normal to take her blouse off, she decided, unbuttoning it slowly, noting that the gauzy curtains were closed, allowing as much sunlight through as one might wish for while not allowing any random flyer outside the chance to see within. "Hand level with your shoulder there," she noted absently, undoing the last button and pulling the blouse off. Slowly.

Haroun made the adjustment automatically and continued in with the form. Alison's disrobing didn't even enter into his consciousness - he was focused inwards, on his balance and posture and the motions demanded by the form. It was by far not the most demanding thing he'd ever done, but it had its own set of unique requirements, ones that he was striving to meet to the best of his ability.

"Foot shouldn't lift so high," she murmured at one point, concentrating on breathing – which wasn't helping much really, and she was biting her lip as he worked through the form, desperately hoping he wouldn't step outside of the boundaries again. And making sure he didn't involved paying attention and trying to keep some measure of control on the being distracted by Haroun par of herself. "Ooh. Nice." And that wasn't the move so much as the effects, not that she was about to explain further just then.

Haroun moved through the rest of the form without any more trouble, although some of his footwork was a little bit more forceful than the form strictly demanded. He bowed to the judges, and then straightened up to look over to Alison. "Done." he said, just as what she (wasn't) wearing hit his brain like a sledgehammer.

She'd worn the red silk one today, the last gasp of his higher consciousness noted. And it must be cold in here, it added helpfully.

Alison took a slow, deep breath – quite on purpose at that. "That was good." And with that, she decided asking him to do the form again would be too likely to reduce her to whimpering jellydom as opposed to just being likely to make him trip over his own feet for a change. There was no way he wouldn't be able to see the state of mind (and body) she was in thanks to him. "I figured with you having no shirt on, it was only fair I did the same." Ooh, and she'd managed a whole, complete sentence too.

Haroun grinned. "Ah, but there is a flaw in your logic." he pointed out. "See, all I am wearing is a pair of pants. You still have a bra on." he pointed out, wanting to see how far he could play this whole thing out. "Should I run through that form one more time, or do you think you've had enough for one morning?" he teased. "Because practice makes perfect, does it not?"

If he did that, she'd die. Dead. Self combustion, on the spot. Which meant it was time to cheat. A whole lot – and thankfully, she was wearing plain capri with no metal or buckles. Which meant a neat quick flash of lasers had the fabric of her pants sliding off her legs and to the floor, leaving her only in her undergarments. Reclining back in the chair lazily, eyes gleaming with not so innocent thoughts, Alison merely raised an eyebrow at him in response.

Haroun swallowed as he let his eye trace every swell, every curve put on display for him. "Well, that's one way to even the odds." he said with a grin. "But those were perfectly good pants you lasered. Guess the ball's in my court, now, isn't it?" he grinned, and then ditched the camo until he was left in just his underwear. Who knew that smiley-face boxers lurked in his closet?

"..." She was not going to giggle. Damn it, not going to... giggling, Alison clapped one hand to her mouth, eyes dancing with merriment. "You were hiding those! You were!" Scrambling up, somewhat gracefully though, she sauntered towards him, stopping just a few inches shy of his reach. "Sooo... does this mean we're skipping the whole strip poker bit, since we're so far ahead already?" Carefully, she shifted her stance just enough to be ready to head backwards, slowly or quickly as needed.

Haroun wiggled his hips at her. "Maybe." he said with a smirk. "I'm still winning on the articles of clothing contest. You have two on, I have one." he pointed out sensibly. "And weren't you going to go take a cold shower? I would have thought you'd like it hot ... the beating water against your skin, the heat of it sinking deep into your muscles and bones..." he said in an attempt to be seductive.

"If we're talking heat, I'm not thinking of being in the shower for it..." Grinning slowly, Alison started a slow, lazy backwards walk in the direction of the bedroom, reaching to undo the front snap of her bra, which not letting it move just yet. Normally, she would have turned around to make the show last, taunting him with the knowledge that the bra was very much off and he couldn't see it all unless he followed, but this time - this time, doing things a bit differently would work just fine, she decided.

Haroun growled deep in his chest, and stepped forwards towards Alison. "You like your heat in different ways, do you? I know you do, and I know just where you like the heat the most." he purred. "Do you want to feel that heat? Do you?"

Any thoughts of heading bedroomwards were forgotten at that, Alison giving up her hold on the bra, letting the thin straps slip down her shoulders and the entire scrap of fabric head towards the floor as she reversed course, walking right up to Haroun instead. Her arms wound around his neck as she leaned against him, her only answer being her lips against his, urgent and hungry.