[ It's cute when he plays dumb. A thinly-veiled request for a little necking and Nate's smile is toothy, sharp, the ache of the day's events subsiding with warm arms around his shoulders and the smell of something fresh and beneath that, detergent and salt and oil. Ian worked with his hands today, built something, or took it apart. ]
You do.
[ Nate informs him sagely, memorizing the soft line of Ian's brow for the umpteenth time this week. His hands settle on Ian's hips, pressing gently into the hollow of them and enjoying the opportunity to crowd him against the counter. ]
I could give you a practical demonstration but dinner might get cold.
no subject
You do.
[ Nate informs him sagely, memorizing the soft line of Ian's brow for the umpteenth time this week. His hands settle on Ian's hips, pressing gently into the hollow of them and enjoying the opportunity to crowd him against the counter. ]
I could give you a practical demonstration but dinner might get cold.