[The motion of her thumb settles him, somewhat, even as it sparks a brighter awareness, a prickle of heat]
Yeah... no pressure.
[He hesitates - peers up at her face, eyes flickering back and forth, as though searching for something. The concern is still there, keeping the rising tide of everything else at bay]
But, like. That goes both ways. Okay?
Don't, like - don't do nothing just cause you think I wanna do it. Promise?
Didn’t we do this earlier? But yeah, I continue to promise that I won’t do things I don’t want to do.
[She is considerably more worried about not doing things that he does not want to do, a (come to think of it, constant) thread of anxiety further fed by his current concern and insistent enough to cast a pall over anything else. She shifts the hand caught under him a little; reaches up with the others to brush her knuckles over his cheek]
Same for you, okay?
[Simple encouragement, and acceptance, and that unwavering affection, (mostly) undistracted by the pink of his mouth or the spill of freckles over his skin or that anticipatory feeling that still hasn’t fully gone away since he first touched her]
[A little spot of warmth blooms in him, when her hand brushes his cheek; the affection radiates back toward her, sweet and absolute. He leans into her touch, without meaning to]
...okay. Same for me.
[And that concern, finally, subsides - reassured by her words, maybe, or by what she feels. With it gone, what it was keeping aside comes bubbling up to the forefront, flustered and longing - that ache, stronger than before, so strong it feels like it might split his chest in two]
[He takes a breath in - searches her face again - leans in, very careful, to press his lips to hers]
[She almost hadn’t thought he would do it, so her first impression is surprise. But this quickly fades to something much more delicate in the face of his gentle touch and intense longing, and she flushes dark; keeps her touches back shy.
...Which is stupid, since it’s not as though they haven’t done this before. Of course, it’s different when it’s not forced, some activity to tick off for points. It feels nice—it feels important, to be willingly chosen, and the warmth in her own chest redoubles, a shimmery brightness coming over her like a shot of alcohol.
Her hand shifts from his cheek to his hairline, fluttering pressure over his jawline and against his scalp. With a light hum, she tips her head back in further invitation]
[It is different, when it's not forced - when he knows she's not just playing along for the sake of some game. The warmth in her feeds slow, looping waves of affection in return, something dizzy, a little giddy, radiating out like sunlight, strong and steady and bright.]
[He can't not accept that invitation - leans in, a little helpless, to deepen the kiss, hand coming up to cup the back of her head. It's a careful touch, gentle; his hand is trembling, just a little]
[She sighs into it, relaxing against his lips and into his hand, little by little. This is fine--it's more than fine, one kiss flowing into another, then another still. Why had she been worried again? Of course, she never would've guessed it would feel like this--never would've guessed he would be filled with such a heady joy, never thought it would be so simple to catch. It's flattering--humbling--other things that she can't quite seem to worry too hard about here, in the light of his sun.
So the more she kisses back, the more her touches become a little less hesitant, and soon she shifts to tangle their legs, close and comfortable; lets her hand tangle more solidly in the soft hairs at the nape of his neck; lets her glasses smudge, smushed awkwardly into their cheeks]
[He shivers when she presses them closer still, caught up in a rush of sudden, intense awareness, an electric thrill prickling down his spine. And there beneath it, at some more fundamental level, stirs a deep sense of satisfaction, so profound it nears bliss, as the part of him constantly crying out for more contact goes quiet at last, finally content for once]
[The hand in her hair curls in a little, careful; his thumbs drifts down, exploratory, to trace the skin of her neck. The kisses are open-mouthed, now - an invitation for more, if she wants it]
[She had promised herself to take it slow, keep it light. But her neck is very sensitive, and his lips are very soft, and everything from his side of the link is just so warm and lovely--all the heady wonder of a first time just without any of the insecurities or lack of skill. And it's just so easy to part her lips, utter a small whimper into his mouth...so she does. One doesn't always get such a nice invitation, after all]
[The sound she makes stokes a spark of heat in response - a corresponding wave of self-consciousness, as he realizes how obvious it has to be]
[But it doesn't stop him from deepening the kiss - from licking into her mouth, careful and slow. The thumb on her neck keeps up its motion, gentle; there's a little spark of joy, somewhere deep down, that he knows how sensitive it is now. It feels like secret knowledge, somehow, something about her he didn't know until now, and he hoards it close even as he attempts to make good use of it]
[She shifts, restless at the slow pace--at the gentle intensity of it all. Concentrates on the bite of her glasses frames into her skin because everything else is too--comfortable, too nice, too much something she wants more of, even though--reasons. Reasons why she was not going to lick at his tongue, still cool and sweet from the forgotten ice cream, or why she was not going to rake her fingers shaky and firm through his hair, tousling it from the crown of his head to the familiar nubs at his nape, or why she wasn't going to hook his ankle to invite him closer, or certainly why she wasn't going to be making any noises whatsoever.
And she knows she will be rightly disappointed in herself later that instead she's doing all of those things, even if in the moment is very difficult not to want to when she can feel his heat and his interest and it's just so easy to meet it with her own...whoops]
[He makes a soft sound into the kiss, when her fingers rake through his hair - presses closer, as she hooks his ankle to urge him nearer. He couldn't resist if he tried - doesn't want to - feels a little like he's drowning, everything is so good]
[He's aware enough, though, to catch that sense of impending disappointment - hesitates, slightly, and presses a wordless question out toward her, a hint of uncertainty creeping in around the edges]
[Attempts to ignore it, like when you've just gotten into the most comfortable position and you find you've gotta pee. Almost immediately realizes that is even more of a dick move, and slowly breaks the kiss and pulls away a little, just enough that she can see him. Which...she still can't, her glasses are too close and too smudged, and she tries wrinkling her face to scooch them out of the way without having to lose even more contact.
She sends apologies for both the face and the interruption; rubs soothingly at the back of his neck]
[He's frankly a little breathless - kind of half-dazed. He licks at his lips, subconsciously, and moves his hand around, careful, to cup the side of her face. The emotions rolling off him are heady: pleasure, and want, and warmth, and love, and a thousand other things that feel too big to fit in his chest]
But are you, like... is there something you're worried about?
[Watches his mouth, a smear of pink on pink; idly curses her poor vision. Then embarrassment, moreso at being called out; it seems to be the exact same flavor]
--Nah...not worried.
[A little preoccupied, perhaps, but there is a lot going on at the moment from all sides, hot and full and distracting, and she shifts the arm caught beneath his in an attempt to ground herself]
But--you're sure I ain't-- You sure you're doing okay?
[He's doing better than good; a goofy smile keeps trying to creep its way onto his lips, and his thumb brushes over her cheek, infinitely gentle.]
I... I'm real happy right now.
[Which might very well be the understatement of the century, and she has a first row seat to how small those words seem, in comparison to what he's feeling]
[That fluttery feeling goes over her again, her cheek warmer than ever, and she forgets whatever probably important point she was going to make]
Okay. Uh, good.
[She's suddenly struck by the thought of how lucky to be here like this with him, a feeling that sings through her veins and swells inside her chest, and she turns into his hand, nuzzles into it a little before she remembers to catch herself]
[There's a little flush of joy when she nuzzles into him, a bright spark that seems to encompass everything: how close they are, and how good this is, and above all, that it's her lying here with him, pressed so near that their legs are entwined, spread out on a warm roof beneath a blue, blue sky]
[His thumb runs over her cheek again, just as gentle]
[And she does. And she wriggles a little closer, tugs him up and into a hug, where she can feel the warmth he's got left and the rise of his breath, and he can surely feel the rush of her heartbeat, among other things]
[He goes closer gladly - greedily - reveling in the nearness, in the warmth of her, in the feel of her heartbeat. His thumb trails back and forth over her cheek, now - idle exploration, like he's mapping the shape of it]
And. And like... it's what you wanted, too?
[There's a flicker of uncertainty there, still, like he has trouble quite believing it - like he expects this to be another dream, maybe]
[She murmurs shyly into his collarbone; shifts her bottom arm to hitch up gently at the small of his back, careful but soothing, pleased to be there, happy that he's happy]
So...good, I'm glad. I mean, if this is really good for you, anyways.
[He can't find the words, somehow; they stick in his throat, too big to try and untangle. He presses the feelings out her way, instead, clumsy - has to hope she'll understand]
[There's a flicker of uncertainty at that, just for a second - and then he becomes aware of what she's feeling, and it's replaced with relief, with a thrill of anticipation]
[His hand is close to her glasses, anyway; it's the easiest thing in the world, to take them off, gentle - fold them and put them aside, safely away from the edge of the roof]
Re: Day 235 - Emotion Share
Yeah... no pressure.
[He hesitates - peers up at her face, eyes flickering back and forth, as though searching for something. The concern is still there, keeping the rising tide of everything else at bay]
But, like. That goes both ways. Okay?
Don't, like - don't do nothing just cause you think I wanna do it. Promise?
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[She is considerably more worried about not doing things that he does not want to do, a (come to think of it, constant) thread of anxiety further fed by his current concern and insistent enough to cast a pall over anything else. She shifts the hand caught under him a little; reaches up with the others to brush her knuckles over his cheek]
Same for you, okay?
[Simple encouragement, and acceptance, and that unwavering affection, (mostly) undistracted by the pink of his mouth or the spill of freckles over his skin or that anticipatory feeling that still hasn’t fully gone away since he first touched her]
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...okay. Same for me.
[And that concern, finally, subsides - reassured by her words, maybe, or by what she feels. With it gone, what it was keeping aside comes bubbling up to the forefront, flustered and longing - that ache, stronger than before, so strong it feels like it might split his chest in two]
[He takes a breath in - searches her face again - leans in, very careful, to press his lips to hers]
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...Which is stupid, since it’s not as though they haven’t done this before. Of course, it’s different when it’s not forced, some activity to tick off for points. It feels nice—it feels important, to be willingly chosen, and the warmth in her own chest redoubles, a shimmery brightness coming over her like a shot of alcohol.
Her hand shifts from his cheek to his hairline, fluttering pressure over his jawline and against his scalp. With a light hum, she tips her head back in further invitation]
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[He can't not accept that invitation - leans in, a little helpless, to deepen the kiss, hand coming up to cup the back of her head. It's a careful touch, gentle; his hand is trembling, just a little]
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So the more she kisses back, the more her touches become a little less hesitant, and soon she shifts to tangle their legs, close and comfortable; lets her hand tangle more solidly in the soft hairs at the nape of his neck; lets her glasses smudge, smushed awkwardly into their cheeks]
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[The hand in her hair curls in a little, careful; his thumbs drifts down, exploratory, to trace the skin of her neck. The kisses are open-mouthed, now - an invitation for more, if she wants it]
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[But it doesn't stop him from deepening the kiss - from licking into her mouth, careful and slow. The thumb on her neck keeps up its motion, gentle; there's a little spark of joy, somewhere deep down, that he knows how sensitive it is now. It feels like secret knowledge, somehow, something about her he didn't know until now, and he hoards it close even as he attempts to make good use of it]
Re: Day 235 - Emotion Share
And she knows she will be rightly disappointed in herself later that instead she's doing all of those things, even if in the moment is very difficult not to want to when she can feel his heat and his interest and it's just so easy to meet it with her own...whoops]
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[He's aware enough, though, to catch that sense of impending disappointment - hesitates, slightly, and presses a wordless question out toward her, a hint of uncertainty creeping in around the edges]
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She sends apologies for both the face and the interruption; rubs soothingly at the back of his neck]
...Okay? Too much?
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[He's frankly a little breathless - kind of half-dazed. He licks at his lips, subconsciously, and moves his hand around, careful, to cup the side of her face. The emotions rolling off him are heady: pleasure, and want, and warmth, and love, and a thousand other things that feel too big to fit in his chest]
But are you, like... is there something you're worried about?
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--Nah...not worried.
[A little preoccupied, perhaps, but there is a lot going on at the moment from all sides, hot and full and distracting, and she shifts the arm caught beneath his in an attempt to ground herself]
But--you're sure I ain't-- You sure you're doing okay?
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[He's doing better than good; a goofy smile keeps trying to creep its way onto his lips, and his thumb brushes over her cheek, infinitely gentle.]
I... I'm real happy right now.
[Which might very well be the understatement of the century, and she has a first row seat to how small those words seem, in comparison to what he's feeling]
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Okay. Uh, good.
[She's suddenly struck by the thought of how lucky to be here like this with him, a feeling that sings through her veins and swells inside her chest, and she turns into his hand, nuzzles into it a little before she remembers to catch herself]
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[His thumb runs over her cheek again, just as gentle]
...you doing okay?
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[Embarrassed and pleased in roughly equal parts, which honestly leaves almost overwhelmingly large servings of both.]
...So--it's really okay? It's what you wanted?
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[Warm and bright and satisfied and wanting and excited and a little overwhelmed, all of it suffused with a soft sort of glow]
[He swallows, with effort; his throat is tight]
It's real good.
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[And she does. And she wriggles a little closer, tugs him up and into a hug, where she can feel the warmth he's got left and the rise of his breath, and he can surely feel the rush of her heartbeat, among other things]
Re: Day 235 - Emotion Share
And. And like... it's what you wanted, too?
[There's a flicker of uncertainty there, still, like he has trouble quite believing it - like he expects this to be another dream, maybe]
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[She murmurs shyly into his collarbone; shifts her bottom arm to hitch up gently at the small of his back, careful but soothing, pleased to be there, happy that he's happy]
So...good, I'm glad. I mean, if this is really good for you, anyways.
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[He can't find the words, somehow; they stick in his throat, too big to try and untangle. He presses the feelings out her way, instead, clumsy - has to hope she'll understand]
[He takes a breath, careful. Takes another]
...can I kiss you again?
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Mm... Take off my glasses and lemme think about it.
[Spoilers, she has already determined the answer to this question, and she is hoping he won't need three guesses to come to the same conclusion]
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[His hand is close to her glasses, anyway; it's the easiest thing in the world, to take them off, gentle - fold them and put them aside, safely away from the edge of the roof]
...what'd you think?
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