[He finds himself- well, he's probably blushing, but he's still blushing, or maybe blushing harder in a shade to rival Argenti's hair, because Sunday has no idea when it was that he had earned that sort of warmth shining from Aventurine's eyes, but it's the sort of sight that takes his breath away, that makes everything worth it, and he's lost control of a lot of things. Sunday knows this. There were a lot of things he had a grasp on, and he's lost control of every last bit of it. And he actually doesn't mind? He should. He knows. He doesn't. The kisses were a mistake- well, okay, not really, Sunday thoroughly enjoyed every last second of them, but they were a tacit admission of...
Something, that they were also tacitly ignoring.
But also, that something was getting hard to ignore, so it was maybe inevitable.
Regardless, he watches, like a vole numbed by a fox's riddle, waiting to be eaten, as Aventurine scoops up a little bit of cake on that spoon, and puts it in his mouth. Aventurine presses against his shoulder; he moves to support him. It's like a stupid dance as they kiss again, and Sunday's mouth immediately opens with a little desperate groan because in the end, he's eager to please. He'll take whatever Aventurine gives him, and he's eager to please. His tongue is in his mouth, trying to taste every last bit of the cake, or just famished after having denied himself certain things for a while, and Sunday still wants to please. Maybe the sushi just decanted something that Sunday had been keeping bottled up the second he had seen the fucking IPC envoy in the first fucking place and he had fucking convinced himself that all he wanted to do was to wreck him (not in a good, sexy way, and then in a cruel-yet-sexy way, and then it got really complicated), but maybe all of that, too, was a lie.
He'd crawl onto his lap, but there's cake in the way.
He should never want to crawl into anyone's lap. What the hell has Aventurine done to him?
Sunday breaks for air. He breathes, shuddering, and turns out that while he hadn't quite crawled into Aventurine's lap (cake, plates, things in the way) his leg did start to move.
{ they probably should be doing a whole number of things that aren't this, but ignoring the elephant in the room means here they are. there's a groan, probably a number of other noises, as the cake is passed into sunday's mouth. passed between them. the frosting incredibly sweet, and he may not have the same sweet tooth sunday has but it does taste divine.
he's just not going to reflect on the fact that while he'd been trying to eat slowly, was struggling to eat it, he's actually really fucking eager to taste it now. he twists a bit more, trying to get comfy when he shifts as well. knees bump, moving a little too far to lean closer, before they both settle in place.
the plate and cake really are in the way.
sunday pulls back for air, aventurine's eyes dip to look at sunday's lips. }
Mm. It's sweeter than I expected.
{ he almost forgets to get another spoonful of the cake, almost dives right back in for another. but no, thankfully not, thankfully he can scoop up a bit more.
something in the back of his head tries to remind him that he shouldn't be doing this, but at this point he really hopes he's already paid the fucking price with what happened on the excursion. let him have cake in peace.
so he repeats the process, barely gives sunday time to catch his breath.
maybe he should consider them a mistake if this is where it got them now- }
[Sunday, of course, eagerly meets that kiss. He didn't even think he was capable of eagerly meeting any kisses, but here he is, eagerly meeting that kiss. His mouth opens, his hand reaches up, touches Aventurine's cheek, threads through his hair. He doesn't need to breathe, all the air in the world is in the Stoneheart's lungs. And then, his tongue desperately in Aventurine's mouth, he-
His knee hits a plate. Again.
The cake, and the plate, is in the way. He is ending the kiss. Fingertips cover Aventurine's mouth if he tries to chase after him.]
Here-
[He's taking the plate from Aventurine- don't stop him, he's taking the plate. It's his plate now.]
I enjoy what you're doing with this a lot, but it's in the way, and it's starting to get frustrating.
[Sunday's moving as he's talking, leaning away- he's putting a hand on Aventurine's chest if he tries to move. Stay. Shoving that plate on that surface. The one over there, that table that's a safe ways away from the two of them, and hopefully high enough the cat cakes can't get at it. Nothing would ruin the moment like pet food poisoning.]
There.
[And now he's seating himself on Aventurine's lap like he owns it. Better! Sunday smiles a little pleased smile at Aventurine. It's very pleased. He's very happy. Isn't this much better? Doesn't this make more sense?
A hand is back in his hair, lightly tugging on it, and Sunday's meeting Aventurine's lips with his own, inflicting another kiss onto him- don't stop him. Once again, chasing after kisses, chasing after this, something he denied himself for whatever reason, something that tastes like sunlight, like summer in all of the best of ways, something he wants to bask in, and Sunday denied himself this. For what? Don't ask him why.]
{ the noise he makes when sunday's fingers press over his lips is incredibly needy, embarrassingly so, as he leans up to chase after him as expected. unfortunately (for him) he is not successful. he slumps back, doesn't move his body closer or struggle against it, just looks disappointed he's being held back for the moment.
at first he's just grateful sunday tells him his reasoning for it. that, in a way, he's guided through the process. it's only when the plate is taken, that he says he enjoys what aventurine is doing with it a lot, that his lips part and his tongue slides over those fingertips whether sunday's hands are gloved or not.
it's short lived, as he lets the hand pressed against his own chest keep him in place. his own hand lifts to cover sunday's, gives it a squeeze, and watches with rapt attention as the plate is put aside. he glances at where the cat cakes have started chatting and playing together to see that it looks like the cake is safe for now. it's brief enough that he gets a moment of confusion as sunday finishes up...
...and makes his way onto his own lap.
realisation dawns, his eyes widen a fraction, because there's so much to take in. from the pleasant weight over his thighs, the warmth of another body, but most importantly the smile on sunday's face that makes his breath audibly hitch. he doesn't expect it, even if everything between them right now points to the fact that he really does seem to want this as well. at least in some capacity. he squashes down any thoughts relating to that fast enough, but-- }
Oh. Much better.
{ and if anything, what follows is the entire opposite to stopping him. he surges forward to kiss him hungrily now everything seems to be in place, lets one arm wind around his waist to keep him steady, to pull him forward. his other hand reaches to drag over his thigh. }
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no subject
Date: 2025-12-23 05:04 am (UTC)Something, that they were also tacitly ignoring.
But also, that something was getting hard to ignore, so it was maybe inevitable.
Regardless, he watches, like a vole numbed by a fox's riddle, waiting to be eaten, as Aventurine scoops up a little bit of cake on that spoon, and puts it in his mouth. Aventurine presses against his shoulder; he moves to support him. It's like a stupid dance as they kiss again, and Sunday's mouth immediately opens with a little desperate groan because in the end, he's eager to please. He'll take whatever Aventurine gives him, and he's eager to please. His tongue is in his mouth, trying to taste every last bit of the cake, or just famished after having denied himself certain things for a while, and Sunday still wants to please. Maybe the sushi just decanted something that Sunday had been keeping bottled up the second he had seen the fucking IPC envoy in the first fucking place and he had fucking convinced himself that all he wanted to do was to wreck him (not in a good, sexy way, and then in a cruel-yet-sexy way, and then it got really complicated), but maybe all of that, too, was a lie.
He'd crawl onto his lap, but there's cake in the way.
He should never want to crawl into anyone's lap. What the hell has Aventurine done to him?
Sunday breaks for air. He breathes, shuddering, and turns out that while he hadn't quite crawled into Aventurine's lap (cake, plates, things in the way) his leg did start to move.
Words.]
It tastes better than I remember.
[Idiot.]
no subject
Date: 2025-12-25 01:30 am (UTC)he's just not going to reflect on the fact that while he'd been trying to eat slowly, was struggling to eat it, he's actually really fucking eager to taste it now. he twists a bit more, trying to get comfy when he shifts as well. knees bump, moving a little too far to lean closer, before they both settle in place.
the plate and cake really are in the way.
sunday pulls back for air, aventurine's eyes dip to look at sunday's lips. }
Mm. It's sweeter than I expected.
{ he almost forgets to get another spoonful of the cake, almost dives right back in for another. but no, thankfully not, thankfully he can scoop up a bit more.
something in the back of his head tries to remind him that he shouldn't be doing this, but at this point he really hopes he's already paid the fucking price with what happened on the excursion. let him have cake in peace.
so he repeats the process, barely gives sunday time to catch his breath.
maybe he should consider them a mistake if this is where it got them now- }
no subject
Date: 2025-12-26 02:51 am (UTC)His knee hits a plate. Again.
The cake, and the plate, is in the way. He is ending the kiss. Fingertips cover Aventurine's mouth if he tries to chase after him.]
Here-
[He's taking the plate from Aventurine- don't stop him, he's taking the plate. It's his plate now.]
I enjoy what you're doing with this a lot, but it's in the way, and it's starting to get frustrating.
[Sunday's moving as he's talking, leaning away- he's putting a hand on Aventurine's chest if he tries to move. Stay. Shoving that plate on that surface. The one over there, that table that's a safe ways away from the two of them, and hopefully high enough the cat cakes can't get at it. Nothing would ruin the moment like pet food poisoning.]
There.
[And now he's seating himself on Aventurine's lap like he owns it. Better! Sunday smiles a little pleased smile at Aventurine. It's very pleased. He's very happy. Isn't this much better? Doesn't this make more sense?
A hand is back in his hair, lightly tugging on it, and Sunday's meeting Aventurine's lips with his own, inflicting another kiss onto him- don't stop him. Once again, chasing after kisses, chasing after this, something he denied himself for whatever reason, something that tastes like sunlight, like summer in all of the best of ways, something he wants to bask in, and Sunday denied himself this. For what? Don't ask him why.]
i realise i typo'd and that should have been 'maybe he shouldn't consider them a mistake' 😔
Date: 2025-12-26 09:40 pm (UTC)at first he's just grateful sunday tells him his reasoning for it. that, in a way, he's guided through the process. it's only when the plate is taken, that he says he enjoys what aventurine is doing with it a lot, that his lips part and his tongue slides over those fingertips whether sunday's hands are gloved or not.
it's short lived, as he lets the hand pressed against his own chest keep him in place. his own hand lifts to cover sunday's, gives it a squeeze, and watches with rapt attention as the plate is put aside. he glances at where the cat cakes have started chatting and playing together to see that it looks like the cake is safe for now. it's brief enough that he gets a moment of confusion as sunday finishes up...
...and makes his way onto his own lap.
realisation dawns, his eyes widen a fraction, because there's so much to take in. from the pleasant weight over his thighs, the warmth of another body, but most importantly the smile on sunday's face that makes his breath audibly hitch. he doesn't expect it, even if everything between them right now points to the fact that he really does seem to want this as well. at least in some capacity. he squashes down any thoughts relating to that fast enough, but-- }
Oh. Much better.
{ and if anything, what follows is the entire opposite to stopping him. he surges forward to kiss him hungrily now everything seems to be in place, lets one arm wind around his waist to keep him steady, to pull him forward. his other hand reaches to drag over his thigh. }