( The sheer unadulterated fondness that runs through him at that is like stepping into a warm bath. Maybe that shouldn't be the first emotion he feels after something meant to be a come-on, maybe it ought to be a different kind of flushing heat first, but... something about it. Just something about the way he says it, Ian's first impulse is damn, I love you.
Which is to say, the heat still hits, it's just second. )
That is... so uncouth.
( He agrees, smiling into Nate's throat. It takes effort to school that down enough to press his lips to it. )
Fortunately that's a really attractive trait on you, you pull it off. It compliments your shoulders.
[ It's the way he responds that tickles Nate so deliciously, that slightly-hoarse, deeply-amused observational tone with just the slightest edge of smugness. He can picture Ian's face perfectly, even buried in his neck as it is. ]
You like when I'm a no-good lowlife with a hard-on for you.
[ Nate informs him, matter of fact, and gives his hair a little tug. ]
[ Petulant and obviously playful, nothing that hurts in the slightest given the kinds of wounds he's sustained in his time. It earns another sharp tug on his hair, the Adam's apple bobbing in his throat with a thick swallow. Places he's sensitive, places he likes, places he's trying to cover up with some whining because of the way it bring heat into his face.
Nate shifts his legs, knees drawing up to bracket Ian's sides. ]
You bite any harder and the paps are gonna come up with some speculative headlines.
( He settles in like he belongs; legs out long between Nate's, held comfortably by his knees on either side, probably too much weight settled on top of Nate's chest, and an arm slipping up to curl under one of his shoulders. It's in his top 3 positions, hands down. )
Tell 'em it was that— one weird guy that hits on you real hard every time. What's his name?
( That sure is a shirt blocking his path toward collarbone. He nips at the hem absently, tugging at it with his teeth. )
[ He does belong: the way Nate stretches and relaxes under him is evidence enough of that, accommodating for the minor changes in position with a complementary deftness honed by years of Ian figuring out his favorite ways to settle on Nate like some kind of cat.
His palm skates down to Ian's nape, rubbing at the back of his neck as Nate groans in a decidedly unsexy way. ]
Quin. I don't want to encourage him, he might take that as an invitation.
( Nate can groan as unsexy as he likes as long as he keeps rubbing the back of Ian's neck like that. It momentarily quells the absent tugging of Nate's collar, has him settling down into a position a little more comfortably still on Nate's chest. )
So what you're saying is I should cancel the dinner date I scheduled for tomorrow.
( Honestly... whether they wind up having sex or just laying in the floor (next to a perfectly good couch) all night like this, either one is wildly appealing. Either one is a win. )
Here I was thinking we were in that phase in our relationship where we start joining Swinger clubs.
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Which is to say, the heat still hits, it's just second. )
That is... so uncouth.
( He agrees, smiling into Nate's throat. It takes effort to school that down enough to press his lips to it. )
Fortunately that's a really attractive trait on you, you pull it off. It compliments your shoulders.
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You like when I'm a no-good lowlife with a hard-on for you.
[ Nate informs him, matter of fact, and gives his hair a little tug. ]
But I bet you say that to all the boys.
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( He's got no qualms admitting that. )
About being a no-good low-life with a hard-on, not about the boys. Although...
( That part's a joke, which he'll make clear by kindly biting at the skin beneath his lips. Playfully hard, just enough to garner a reaction. )
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[ Petulant and obviously playful, nothing that hurts in the slightest given the kinds of wounds he's sustained in his time. It earns another sharp tug on his hair, the Adam's apple bobbing in his throat with a thick swallow. Places he's sensitive, places he likes, places he's trying to cover up with some whining because of the way it bring heat into his face.
Nate shifts his legs, knees drawing up to bracket Ian's sides. ]
You bite any harder and the paps are gonna come up with some speculative headlines.
[ Which, for the record, he does not mind. ]
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Tell 'em it was that— one weird guy that hits on you real hard every time. What's his name?
( That sure is a shirt blocking his path toward collarbone. He nips at the hem absently, tugging at it with his teeth. )
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His palm skates down to Ian's nape, rubbing at the back of his neck as Nate groans in a decidedly unsexy way. ]
Quin. I don't want to encourage him, he might take that as an invitation.
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So what you're saying is I should cancel the dinner date I scheduled for tomorrow.
( Honestly... whether they wind up having sex or just laying in the floor (next to a perfectly good couch) all night like this, either one is wildly appealing. Either one is a win. )
Here I was thinking we were in that phase in our relationship where we start joining Swinger clubs.