[ dextera doesn't want to get out. it's such a powerful desire that it surprises him, but his whole heart rejects the idea of escaping now, when they're this close—this hot, their bodies touching without anything in between. it's like the water itself is bleeding out dextera's near-virginal modesty, and in response to guren's quiet assurance, his eyelids lower. ]
I will.
[ that, he promises, even if he can't imagine acting on it when there's something much better, much more appealing right in front of him. ]
But I don't want to.
[ he hides his face and kisses the place where guren's neck curves into his shoulder—if he's standing upright, they're almost the same height, but his habitual slouch means that he's at the perfect angle to hide away and kiss guren's warm skin instead of confronting how badly he wants more of this. ]
no subject
I will.
[ that, he promises, even if he can't imagine acting on it when there's something much better, much more appealing right in front of him. ]
But I don't want to.
[ he hides his face and kisses the place where guren's neck curves into his shoulder—if he's standing upright, they're almost the same height, but his habitual slouch means that he's at the perfect angle to hide away and kiss guren's warm skin instead of confronting how badly he wants more of this. ]