…Aoba’s squirming progressed from the mental alone to something actually physical, a shifting of his legs under the blanket betraying all his very failed attempts to not think about the way the electricity in his skin wanted to heat its way through the rest of his body, just from something as sweet as a kiss combined with those words. Aoba might not have known what ‘worship’ entailed, exactly, but it hardly sounded bad….
Is he trying to be the death of me? came a frustrated groan, laced with images that were outright obscene, bringing back to mind Aoba’s guilty little escapade in the shower that one time.
Aoba’s face had once again reached lobster-like shades of red, his fingers going still, then curling gently back into his palm—not recoiling, but certainly hesitating. Now it was Aoba who felt like there were mixed messages flying about, and wasn’t that an irony?
“Either…either we need to change the subject for now,” he stammered, “Or I’m going to—have a really hard time sleeping….”
Because of course, asking Declan to follow through on that offer didn’t feel right. Not when the man had to be given time to figure himself out just as much as Aoba did, right?
no subject
Is he trying to be the death of me? came a frustrated groan, laced with images that were outright obscene, bringing back to mind Aoba’s guilty little escapade in the shower that one time.
Aoba’s face had once again reached lobster-like shades of red, his fingers going still, then curling gently back into his palm—not recoiling, but certainly hesitating. Now it was Aoba who felt like there were mixed messages flying about, and wasn’t that an irony?
“Either…either we need to change the subject for now,” he stammered, “Or I’m going to—have a really hard time sleeping….”
Because of course, asking Declan to follow through on that offer didn’t feel right. Not when the man had to be given time to figure himself out just as much as Aoba did, right?