[ Instead of pausing, questioning -- faltering for even a second -- Mikleo, instead, continues.
...Does he know what he’s doing to him...?
He does. He has to. This is the same as before, that day on the cliffside when he first kissed Sorey deeply, with intent, and the brunette found himself damn near weak in the knees from it. Here too, he imagines he would be, were he standing. He’ll be quietly grateful for that small favor.
Already his consciousness is quickly diverging, splitting in two. One faction determines his next words should be ”we should stop”, while the other pleads, ”please don’t”. But something in his groin is stirring -- a part of him he’d rather stay dormant; that he’d will to, if he had the wherewithal to manage that. Alas, he doesn’t; so it grows anyway.
Unconsciously licking his lips, he swallows dryly. On the heels of that is a breath out, complete with the tiniest ’ah’ of pleasure he immediately mutes to a hum and would’ve rather quashed, had he been given half a chance. A hand comes to rest on his stomach then, and it’s as though all the heat in his lower half congregates there beneath that point of contact, rising up to meet it.
But, for as greedy as some part of him is right now, this is all a bit one-sided, isn’t it? ]
Hey, Mikleo... [ In silvery hair, fingers flex momentarily as they continue to comb. ] Do you think... I could kiss you like this?
[ Right now, he means. Not that it’ll help slow things down any, but. It might give his poor already-overworked body a bit of a break. ]
no subject
...Does he know what he’s doing to him...?
He does. He has to. This is the same as before, that day on the cliffside when he first kissed Sorey deeply, with intent, and the brunette found himself damn near weak in the knees from it. Here too, he imagines he would be, were he standing. He’ll be quietly grateful for that small favor.
Already his consciousness is quickly diverging, splitting in two. One faction determines his next words should be ”we should stop”, while the other pleads, ”please don’t”. But something in his groin is stirring -- a part of him he’d rather stay dormant; that he’d will to, if he had the wherewithal to manage that. Alas, he doesn’t; so it grows anyway.
Unconsciously licking his lips, he swallows dryly. On the heels of that is a breath out, complete with the tiniest ’ah’ of pleasure he immediately mutes to a hum and would’ve rather quashed, had he been given half a chance. A hand comes to rest on his stomach then, and it’s as though all the heat in his lower half congregates there beneath that point of contact, rising up to meet it.
But, for as greedy as some part of him is right now, this is all a bit one-sided, isn’t it? ]
Hey, Mikleo... [ In silvery hair, fingers flex momentarily as they continue to comb. ] Do you think... I could kiss you like this?
[ Right now, he means. Not that it’ll help slow things down any, but. It might give his poor already-overworked body a bit of a break. ]