[You're the one, out of all of them, who has made him realize that he actually gets impossibly turned on by the way you talk to him whenever you're tangled together. Words are his thing, as is the way they bleed out when everything - the emotions, the sensations - runs far too high, catches up with his thoughts, and very gently kills them.
Maybe he'll tell you that someday. As things stand, though, the way your fingers ghost over his jaw and the solidity of your palm against his cheek is sending another pang of want through him. The force of it is enough to make him tremble anew, and his gaze immediately drops from your face.]
Please don't do that.
[No, he isn't upset; not in the slightest. He's just completely fucking overwhelmed, and it's making him withdraw in the face of the staggering breadth of his need for you. If you keep this up, he's pretty sure that he won't be able to handle it.]
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Maybe he'll tell you that someday. As things stand, though, the way your fingers ghost over his jaw and the solidity of your palm against his cheek is sending another pang of want through him. The force of it is enough to make him tremble anew, and his gaze immediately drops from your face.]
Please don't do that.
[No, he isn't upset; not in the slightest. He's just completely fucking overwhelmed, and it's making him withdraw in the face of the staggering breadth of his need for you. If you keep this up, he's pretty sure that he won't be able to handle it.]