I— [ There were thoughts he had, words he wanted to say, but they're brushed away like the fingertips across his chest, and then lost entirely in the sweet words bundled with the kiss. His breath hitches as he colors; he hadn't known being touched like this, particularly across his gems, would make him feel this way.
A breath out to focus and another kiss dropped to accent the blush he created, Roka picks up where he left off. He considers himself fortunate that all that's left are a few more buttons, even if he should have removed the suit jacket first before starting on the shirt underneath. Maybe it's better though, since it means he can, however clumsily, help ease him out of both at once. ]
I want to make you feel like you make me feel. [ Which is to say, he might need another moment to find the right words, but he's just as taken with the sight before him. Already he's reaching out to trail his fingers in a mirror of the scars. ]
[ and pittman can help with that, too, unclasping the few buttons of his suit jacket. a slight smile tugs at his mouth as roka explores the rough, uneven texture of his scars; they're a marker of the years of violence he subjects himself to, and yet he still touches his skin so gently. ]
[ he drapes the jacket over a corner of the dresser, quick to return his focus to roka, wholly captivated as he is. it's almost difficult to resist just kissing him all over in some unbridled show of the rushes of affection he's been feeling more and more frequently. brushing at a few locks of his hair, he stymies that with a little kiss to his temple. ]
How do you mean?
[ maybe just a little bit of indulgent curiosity on his part. and his hand slides to roka's wrist, probably, to lead them both to the edge of the bed. ]
[ Later, he wants to ask the whole story behind the scars later. He'll be able to explore them soon either way. Now is for following wherever his partner wants to go, and using his free hand to pluck the hairclip from his hair. That can go on the dresser for safekeeping too, freed strands of turquoise falling down to frame his face.
He looks up, somehow patiently and eagerly at once. ]
Special. Wanted. Loved. [ Despite how warm his face is, how warm his whole body feels at the moment, the words come out confidently. Not stilted, but weighted. He's been learning these past weeks, but the past two in particular, about how to speak with his whole heart.
Though there's other things he wants to be doing with his lips more. As eager to please as he is, he waits to allow space for any more words. There might not be much room for them soon, between them after all. ]
[ is his easy response, quick in affirming that even if it hadn't been a question, nor contextually sound as a reply. and he'd say it again, too, even in circumstances were his tongue wasn't already loosened by any wine. ]
[ pittman comes to settle at the edge of the bed, his arousal made more evident in sitting; he's just a bit more conscious of it and the restrictions of his belt, the warmth of the room. but he pats the space next to him, his hand jumping from roka's wrist to fall to the small of his back. and while he's close, he does want him to be nearer in however he may accept, ]
[ Roka practically said it himself first, but that really isn't fair to hear it back like that. A particularly infective mmmn tumbles from his lips, given that he's feeling so much in many ways.
But as always, he kowtows to the instruction without hesitation, sitting down promptly if not overly close. His attire is less restrictive, but given his state, his own desire is noticeable all the same. ]
And then? [ His hands ache to touch somewhere, but he's also entranced in submitting, much like he was the night on the island. ]
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no subject
A breath out to focus and another kiss dropped to accent the blush he created, Roka picks up where he left off. He considers himself fortunate that all that's left are a few more buttons, even if he should have removed the suit jacket first before starting on the shirt underneath. Maybe it's better though, since it means he can, however clumsily, help ease him out of both at once. ]
I want to make you feel like you make me feel. [ Which is to say, he might need another moment to find the right words, but he's just as taken with the sight before him. Already he's reaching out to trail his fingers in a mirror of the scars. ]
no subject
[ he drapes the jacket over a corner of the dresser, quick to return his focus to roka, wholly captivated as he is. it's almost difficult to resist just kissing him all over in some unbridled show of the rushes of affection he's been feeling more and more frequently. brushing at a few locks of his hair, he stymies that with a little kiss to his temple. ]
How do you mean?
[ maybe just a little bit of indulgent curiosity on his part. and his hand slides to roka's wrist, probably, to lead them both to the edge of the bed. ]
no subject
He looks up, somehow patiently and eagerly at once. ]
Special. Wanted. Loved. [ Despite how warm his face is, how warm his whole body feels at the moment, the words come out confidently. Not stilted, but weighted. He's been learning these past weeks, but the past two in particular, about how to speak with his whole heart.
Though there's other things he wants to be doing with his lips more. As eager to please as he is, he waits to allow space for any more words. There might not be much room for them soon, between them after all. ]
no subject
[ is his easy response, quick in affirming that even if it hadn't been a question, nor contextually sound as a reply. and he'd say it again, too, even in circumstances were his tongue wasn't already loosened by any wine. ]
[ pittman comes to settle at the edge of the bed, his arousal made more evident in sitting; he's just a bit more conscious of it and the restrictions of his belt, the warmth of the room. but he pats the space next to him, his hand jumping from roka's wrist to fall to the small of his back. and while he's close, he does want him to be nearer in however he may accept, ]
Here. Join me.
no subject
But as always, he kowtows to the instruction without hesitation, sitting down promptly if not overly close. His attire is less restrictive, but given his state, his own desire is noticeable all the same. ]
And then? [ His hands ache to touch somewhere, but he's also entranced in submitting, much like he was the night on the island. ]