[He holds onto him for a moment, very obedient, very eager to go along with whatever Aventurine has in mind, and yet somehow makes a surprised noise as they're rolled onto the bed. And then a pleased noise as they're better aligned, and then a-
A noise as Sunday's ground into, once, twice, and he desperately chases after it before he's stilled by three things: remembering who he is, remembering where they are, but mainly the look in Aventurine's eyes. He wants to say something. To talk and talk and drown whatever-this-is in words. If he was actually good at this sort of thing, he'd suave out some kind of line. Something flirty and witty. Yearning takes on many forms. Sometimes it's just wishing you were good at this sort of thing and generally knew what you were doing.
So. He bites the inside of his cheek, opens his mouth, and out comes this breathless little noise which- well, if Sunday had been flushed before, he's even more flushed now. Bright red. A terrible shade. Doesn't flatter his pale skin at all, apparently.
Fortunately, this is the point in which he's kissed.
And it's a good thing because he was on the cusp of saying something dumb. He's kissed, words are gone, he's blinking like an owl surprised by the light, swallows down the words and Sunday doesn't quite writhe, but he does wiggle in a way which implies that maybe Aventurine's finding one or two more sensitive spots on his way back down.]
I think you're getting a taste for-...
[Actually, no, that's really embarrassing, nevermind, he's petting Aventurine, stroking his hair, Sunday's biting his free wrist, nevermind, no no no that's so very embarrassing.]
{ it's for the best that he doesn't try and say something suave, something out of character that would likely break the moment--even if maybe it shouldn't be going on as long as this is. but that's because he's done enough of that for them both, and right now honesty is forcing some level of vulnerability and openness to step past that lines that have been drawn in the ground.
even after he breaks the kiss to move down his mouth feels like it's on fire from how he drags tongue, lips and teeth over skin. he'll pause on any spots that do seem to have more of a reaction, looks up when sunday starts speaking.
it's a bit silly, a bit embarrassing, sure. it's embarrassing enough that he's laughing under his breath, just a small little laugh that shows how absurd this is. because he's right. apparently, he's right. }
For you? Maybe... Maybe I am.
{ maybe there was something more specific there, but he'll let that hang in the air instead. lets it hang in the air as he shifts to reach and pull at sunday's belt buckle, but doesn't start opening it yet. consent is important. }
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Date: 2026-02-13 05:41 am (UTC)A noise as Sunday's ground into, once, twice, and he desperately chases after it before he's stilled by three things: remembering who he is, remembering where they are, but mainly the look in Aventurine's eyes. He wants to say something. To talk and talk and drown whatever-this-is in words. If he was actually good at this sort of thing, he'd suave out some kind of line. Something flirty and witty. Yearning takes on many forms. Sometimes it's just wishing you were good at this sort of thing and generally knew what you were doing.
So. He bites the inside of his cheek, opens his mouth, and out comes this breathless little noise which- well, if Sunday had been flushed before, he's even more flushed now. Bright red. A terrible shade. Doesn't flatter his pale skin at all, apparently.
Fortunately, this is the point in which he's kissed.
And it's a good thing because he was on the cusp of saying something dumb. He's kissed, words are gone, he's blinking like an owl surprised by the light, swallows down the words and Sunday doesn't quite writhe, but he does wiggle in a way which implies that maybe Aventurine's finding one or two more sensitive spots on his way back down.]
I think you're getting a taste for-...
[Actually, no, that's really embarrassing, nevermind, he's petting Aventurine, stroking his hair, Sunday's biting his free wrist, nevermind, no no no that's so very embarrassing.]
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Date: 2026-02-16 09:52 pm (UTC)even after he breaks the kiss to move down his mouth feels like it's on fire from how he drags tongue, lips and teeth over skin. he'll pause on any spots that do seem to have more of a reaction, looks up when sunday starts speaking.
it's a bit silly, a bit embarrassing, sure. it's embarrassing enough that he's laughing under his breath, just a small little laugh that shows how absurd this is. because he's right. apparently, he's right. }
For you? Maybe... Maybe I am.
{ maybe there was something more specific there, but he'll let that hang in the air instead. lets it hang in the air as he shifts to reach and pull at sunday's belt buckle, but doesn't start opening it yet. consent is important. }
May I?