Aven. ( his voice is even more humorless than normal. ) Stop talking.
( seriously, how much can one bro yap? somebody forgot part of the point of kissing is the quiet time. kirma cannot tell if he is being goaded, manipulated, some secret third option— maybe all of the above. what he does know is the commentary in all its insinuations is aggravating, enough to set his ears back and enough to make his lip curl just so, revealing a hint of fang. a smarter man might bow out here, perhaps, until he's in a better mood. when it comes to this sort of thing, though...
well.
he doesn't mind being a little stupid.
enough hesitation, then. kirma may not know the best card metaphor for the situation, but he knows he may as well take control of it. he takes a fistful of aventurine's open shirt, using it as a hold to push him down onto his back; the hand on his thigh turns from a skating touch to a forceful grip, pulling his legs apart to better situate himself between them. the kiss is not resumed, kirma instead dipping lower to mouth at aventurine's neck, tongue running over the texture of his brand. a curiosity. not the kind you can just ask about, but—
don't get distracted. one hand moves from shoulder to wrist, pinning aventurine's arm down. the other travels up his thigh to his waistband, hooking in fingers, pulling at the fastens. god knows this is going to be one his last chances to top most of the twinks he knows; he may as well make the best of it. )
no subject
( seriously, how much can one bro yap? somebody forgot part of the point of kissing is the quiet time. kirma cannot tell if he is being goaded, manipulated, some secret third option— maybe all of the above. what he does know is the commentary in all its insinuations is aggravating, enough to set his ears back and enough to make his lip curl just so, revealing a hint of fang. a smarter man might bow out here, perhaps, until he's in a better mood. when it comes to this sort of thing, though...
well.
he doesn't mind being a little stupid.
enough hesitation, then. kirma may not know the best card metaphor for the situation, but he knows he may as well take control of it. he takes a fistful of aventurine's open shirt, using it as a hold to push him down onto his back; the hand on his thigh turns from a skating touch to a forceful grip, pulling his legs apart to better situate himself between them. the kiss is not resumed, kirma instead dipping lower to mouth at aventurine's neck, tongue running over the texture of his brand. a curiosity. not the kind you can just ask about, but—
don't get distracted. one hand moves from shoulder to wrist, pinning aventurine's arm down. the other travels up his thigh to his waistband, hooking in fingers, pulling at the fastens. god knows this is going to be one his last chances to top most of the twinks he knows; he may as well make the best of it. )