( these aren't the kind of kisses that can go anywhere, but rather, the kind of kisses that he finds himself chasing, even after they've been dotted like punctuation; one, at first, and then another, succinct, soft, the sort that makes him lean in again, their noses touching briefly with the lack of space. with his eyes closed, he can still feel palamedes there: can feel his warm breath, lured into the space between them, can smell the distant scent of soap and shampoo, cursory human things, pretty human things. the word interesting falls between them, in a voice that tells him what palamedes must sound like back home: enough that he feels the urge to laugh, tinged on his breath, trapped in the back of his throat. it's charming, in a way, and reminds him entirely of someone else, all the same; it's pleasurable, enjoyable.
not quite as enjoyable as the pause that seems to indicate there's more kissing to be had. twisting around on manmade monkey bars and wooden bridges created for children aren't the only kinds of play to be had; this is some kind of teasing act, and he's willing to step up into the part.
it doesn't mean he's any less reluctant to lean back, slightly, just enough to get a glimpse of palamedes' face. )
Good thing. ( he agrees, in a low, thoughtful hum. ) But dangerous thing. The safest thing to do here, I think, would be to lay you down.
( one arm lifts, tethered by tentacles, but he uses it to his advantage: bending his arm back, creasing it at the elbow, means that he can pull palamedes up along with him like the strings of a puppet, their 'hands' intertwined. makes it easier to readjust him, guide him down flat to the mattress, as his own weight shifts to roll against him; a little ridiculous, since they're on the bed the wrong way, but if their legs hang over the side, he doesn't care. it's more about edging his shoulders down, hovering over palamedes chest to chest; it's more about the feeling he gets, with palamedes beneath him, the way he has to half-straddle one of his thighs to get the angle right.
a considering tilt of his head, like a bird looking for seed, teasing, as he settles there: ) You have to tell me if you're light-headed. That's the most dangerous, I think.
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not quite as enjoyable as the pause that seems to indicate there's more kissing to be had. twisting around on manmade monkey bars and wooden bridges created for children aren't the only kinds of play to be had; this is some kind of teasing act, and he's willing to step up into the part.
it doesn't mean he's any less reluctant to lean back, slightly, just enough to get a glimpse of palamedes' face. )
Good thing. ( he agrees, in a low, thoughtful hum. ) But dangerous thing. The safest thing to do here, I think, would be to lay you down.
( one arm lifts, tethered by tentacles, but he uses it to his advantage: bending his arm back, creasing it at the elbow, means that he can pull palamedes up along with him like the strings of a puppet, their 'hands' intertwined. makes it easier to readjust him, guide him down flat to the mattress, as his own weight shifts to roll against him; a little ridiculous, since they're on the bed the wrong way, but if their legs hang over the side, he doesn't care. it's more about edging his shoulders down, hovering over palamedes chest to chest; it's more about the feeling he gets, with palamedes beneath him, the way he has to half-straddle one of his thighs to get the angle right.
a considering tilt of his head, like a bird looking for seed, teasing, as he settles there: ) You have to tell me if you're light-headed. That's the most dangerous, I think.