[ don't stop, rufus says. tseng exhales a slow breath against the uppermost knob of his spine, where his mouth has come to rest, and doesn't pull away. it's only two words, but the feeling behind them is enough to sink like a hook into tseng's gut and tug. this is how he knows he's dreaming; in real life, rufus would never allow himself such tenderness, if tenderness is even the right word for it.
he'll have to pull out eventually. even leaving aside the matter of cleanup, it's a biological fact that tseng can't spend eternity draped along the line of rufus' back, breathing in his warmth and feeling his back rise and fall with his exhalations. still, tseng thinks, even if he knows it eventually has to end, they might be able to stay like this for a little while. ]
I won't.
[ is rufus talking about the sex? or about the touching? or about the toe-curling intimacy of being this close to someone you know so well? maybe all three. tseng doesn't ask, just in case the answer isn't what he wants to hear—but he makes the promise all the same. ]
no subject
he'll have to pull out eventually. even leaving aside the matter of cleanup, it's a biological fact that tseng can't spend eternity draped along the line of rufus' back, breathing in his warmth and feeling his back rise and fall with his exhalations. still, tseng thinks, even if he knows it eventually has to end, they might be able to stay like this for a little while. ]
I won't.
[ is rufus talking about the sex? or about the touching? or about the toe-curling intimacy of being this close to someone you know so well? maybe all three. tseng doesn't ask, just in case the answer isn't what he wants to hear—but he makes the promise all the same. ]