[ Nate shifts more comfortably beneath him, legs spreading to accommodate, unable to maintain the façade long enough before unmistakable fondness slips through. It's a stupid game but it serves to lighten the load and as Ian ducks his head to press his mouth to the space over Nate's sternum, he sighs. It's the little things he can come back to again and again that make the rest of what he does tolerable, because someone is waiting for him.
And tickling him, unfortunately.
Both hands immediately push into Ian's hair, without prompting or thinking, and Nate gets a waft of that cucumber melon scent they came out with last month. A slow grin stretches across his face. ]
no subject
And tickling him, unfortunately.
Both hands immediately push into Ian's hair, without prompting or thinking, and Nate gets a waft of that cucumber melon scent they came out with last month. A slow grin stretches across his face. ]
There are worse ways to go.