Well, the impassive stare was a sign, too. Reason felt very small and uncertain, finding themselves at the end of that stare, and Desire held in the urge to voice one of his many groans of frustration where Declan could hear it.
“Okay. Okay,” he sighed, trying to think outside of his inherent nature as he sat up. He didn’t care about the washcloth. He wasn’t dirty. The traces of Declan’s mouth on him were already half air-dry, but he took it anyway and did his best to give himself a wipedown that was a step more than cursory before flinging it towards the shower and letting it smack off the glass.
He more cared about reaching out, grabbing each of Declan’s hands as he looked up at the Guardian with golden eyes something a bit less than their usual harsh intensity.
“You didn’t like me calling you a control freak. That’s not what you were going for, huh?”
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“Okay. Okay,” he sighed, trying to think outside of his inherent nature as he sat up. He didn’t care about the washcloth. He wasn’t dirty. The traces of Declan’s mouth on him were already half air-dry, but he took it anyway and did his best to give himself a wipedown that was a step more than cursory before flinging it towards the shower and letting it smack off the glass.
He more cared about reaching out, grabbing each of Declan’s hands as he looked up at the Guardian with golden eyes something a bit less than their usual harsh intensity.
“You didn’t like me calling you a control freak. That’s not what you were going for, huh?”