[ It sounds simple and straightforward when he says it, and more certain than most of what he's said tonight, even if the real answer is more complicated. There's a lot of things in life he did anyway even without really being satisfied with doing them; most of the last two years had been nothing but that, yawning his way into games with a sneer on his face and no excitement anywhere. There'd been so little point to the thing he loved most that everything else had felt just as boring by association, just as pointless. He did things because people made him, or because he might as well have; and when he didn't do that, he did nothing at all.
It's nice to be certain of something again, even his certainty can't really be described or properly expressed, even in his own head. ]
Maybe you should shut up for a little bit.
[ There's bite in that, a thread of hey listen, for real, but it's all softened by alcohol, intimacy, and the tangle of emotions he can feel but certainly can't name. He resumes what he had been doing, all hands and lips, though he's got only a tenth of Katze's skill and about twice his enthusiasm.
They're a little sloppy, the kisses he leaves near and on his ear, on his neck, on his jaw. He's following patterns he's only experienced twice now and, when those run out, he works on instinct and guesses alone.
This leads to a few moments where an elbow is stroked or a clothed shoulder receives a little peck, but each success and failure is meant and honest, and fills the downtime with soft sounds and his own deep blush.
Maybe, at some point, he'll chase that caution out of Katze's eyes. He doesn't like it, though he can't say why, ]
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[ It sounds simple and straightforward when he says it, and more certain than most of what he's said tonight, even if the real answer is more complicated. There's a lot of things in life he did anyway even without really being satisfied with doing them; most of the last two years had been nothing but that, yawning his way into games with a sneer on his face and no excitement anywhere. There'd been so little point to the thing he loved most that everything else had felt just as boring by association, just as pointless. He did things because people made him, or because he might as well have; and when he didn't do that, he did nothing at all.
It's nice to be certain of something again, even his certainty can't really be described or properly expressed, even in his own head. ]
Maybe you should shut up for a little bit.
[ There's bite in that, a thread of hey listen, for real, but it's all softened by alcohol, intimacy, and the tangle of emotions he can feel but certainly can't name. He resumes what he had been doing, all hands and lips, though he's got only a tenth of Katze's skill and about twice his enthusiasm.
They're a little sloppy, the kisses he leaves near and on his ear, on his neck, on his jaw. He's following patterns he's only experienced twice now and, when those run out, he works on instinct and guesses alone.
This leads to a few moments where an elbow is stroked or a clothed shoulder receives a little peck, but each success and failure is meant and honest, and fills the downtime with soft sounds and his own deep blush.
Maybe, at some point, he'll chase that caution out of Katze's eyes. He doesn't like it, though he can't say why, ]