[ If not shyness, perhaps reserve — whatever it is that inspires such earnest attempts at distance —
One unraveled with suspicious ease, along the length of a seam: Pale and deliberate as the path that Ilias cuts around it, and still threatening to snare the eye. Isaac stalls to catch the curve of a rib, fingers splayed to pin Ilias' hand in place. The press of his weight forward, the shift to grip a handful of thigh, betrays more eagerness than he'd care. It's been a while.
(Longer, since there were any secrets worth stealing.)
Stubble grazes under his lips, pressed in again to whisper at a jaw. ]
Like this? [ A huff of breath, amused; another moment to decide that: ] Not like this.
[ It's a shit angle. His neck is going to kill him. ]
no subject
One unraveled with suspicious ease, along the length of a seam: Pale and deliberate as the path that Ilias cuts around it, and still threatening to snare the eye. Isaac stalls to catch the curve of a rib, fingers splayed to pin Ilias' hand in place. The press of his weight forward, the shift to grip a handful of thigh, betrays more eagerness than he'd care. It's been a while.
(Longer, since there were any secrets worth stealing.)
Stubble grazes under his lips, pressed in again to whisper at a jaw. ]
Like this? [ A huff of breath, amused; another moment to decide that: ] Not like this.
[ It's a shit angle. His neck is going to kill him. ]