[Yet another lesson swiftly learned this night - it is near impossible to keep one's thoughts on visions and hallucinations, or delusions meant to draw someone astray, when one's partner steps in to bring your bodies flush once more, when you can feel the heat of him in every press from thighs to chest, when he looks at you as if your own lips are the only thing staving off insanity.
There's want there, and a spark of desire that skitters down Kanda's spine, hits him low in the gut, as if Lavi intended to poke once more at a recently banked heat.
But then a feather-light brush of lips, so simple and surprisingly sweet and it's enough steal any attempts at drawing a breath.
Because that can only be tenderness. That is affection without reservation and from this particular man... he has no defense set against that.
I...I want to keep this, don't I?
Lashes flicker, fall, before Kanda turns slightly to brush kiss-swollen lips against a shifting palm, mind racing because he knows the answer, can feel it in the way the erratic thump in his chest quickens all the more. This intimacy, the comfort therein, the ease with which they've fallen into it - it's precious to him, in a way he could not have anticipated.
In a way that slides under his skin, shatters through any barriers he'd raised over the years, clarity through understanding slams into him now.
He wants this intimacy with this man, his trusted partner and closest friend.
He wants this person, this being caught somewhere between the bookman and the killjoy, with all his annoying habits and infuriating jibes, with his ill-concealed concern and the strength that resides within. He wants it all, no matter the cost.
I'm fucked.
It's the last thought, an honest thought, before he turns his head back, lips seeking out lips with surprising tenderness, light pressure, the drag and press slow in answer to Lavi's statement because yes, for now, it's definitely going to get him kissed.]
no subject
There's want there, and a spark of desire that skitters down Kanda's spine, hits him low in the gut, as if Lavi intended to poke once more at a recently banked heat.
But then a feather-light brush of lips, so simple and surprisingly sweet and it's enough steal any attempts at drawing a breath.
Because that can only be tenderness. That is affection without reservation and from this particular man... he has no defense set against that.
I...I want to keep this, don't I?
Lashes flicker, fall, before Kanda turns slightly to brush kiss-swollen lips against a shifting palm, mind racing because he knows the answer, can feel it in the way the erratic thump in his chest quickens all the more. This intimacy, the comfort therein, the ease with which they've fallen into it - it's precious to him, in a way he could not have anticipated.
In a way that slides under his skin, shatters through any barriers he'd raised over the years, clarity through understanding slams into him now.
He wants this intimacy with this man, his trusted partner and closest friend.
He wants this person, this being caught somewhere between the bookman and the killjoy, with all his annoying habits and infuriating jibes, with his ill-concealed concern and the strength that resides within. He wants it all, no matter the cost.
I'm fucked.
It's the last thought, an honest thought, before he turns his head back, lips seeking out lips with surprising tenderness, light pressure, the drag and press slow in answer to Lavi's statement because yes, for now, it's definitely going to get him kissed.]