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@nathan.drake| ■ ▲ ◌ ▼

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[wittingly]

( It's... a little overwhelming, to be honest — this combination of feeling and feeling. The shivering pleasure he's getting from the fist in his hair battling for his attention with the more emotional conversation happening beneath the skin. It's a back and forth on a different level, and even more than the uptick in pressure and pace it's the feeling Nate's got that shoots through him. A matching eagerness, a near-identical curiosity and the pressing desire to learn. It just... fits.

It's appealing as all fuck, actually. Breath rushes audibly and quickly through his nose, driven out of his lungs by a sparking heat riding deep and low in him. Any flagging from that awkward conversation is immediately gone, and his fingertips dig in maybe just a little too hard where he's hanging onto Nate's sides.

Can't really crowd him any further into the wall, but it might seem a little like he's trying.

Unbidden, a thought flits in. Stupid, absurd, completely out of place with the rest of him falling down the rabbit hole, but all the same it's just strong enough to get him to pull back an inch and mutter incredulously: )

Girl From Ipanema.

( You asshole. )