[ He laughs again, and it'sā so nice to know Verso makes him laugh, that somehow even in the midst of this cloying cloud of pain and fear and grief he can find delight. That for a little while, he can feel so light, just simply... him, without the responsibilities that wait for him back at camp. ]
Hey!
[ Laughing still as he threads his fingers into Verso's hair and gently drags him off his neck. ]
Can't I have one patch of skin that you haven't marked up? What am I supposed to tell the others?
[ It isn't as though Lune and Sciel don't know what these bruises are, after all. His scarf covers most of them, but not all, and he's caught them sliding sidelong glances his way more than once: Lune's exasperated and Sciel's amused. All he can hope is that they each might think it was the other one who gave them to him, but there's not much likelihood there.
He slides his hand back down to Verso's neck, humming a softly amused sound as the man kisses his way back up along his neck to his ear. ]
Maybe I'd prefer to be your Monsieur le fleuriste instead, for a while longer.
[ Not that there's anything wrong with being an engineer, but it's certainly a lot less romantic and appealing, a lot closer to the reality of everything he is and has to do. Particularly when the only engineering and design he's likely to do for a while is this one task for a gestral.
Verso's fingers travel down his chest and he shivers pleasantly, then gasps softly at the bright spark of sensation as they toy with his nipple. It tightens under Verso's touch, his body eager for the feel of his hands, his fingers, his mouth.
no subject
Hey!
[ Laughing still as he threads his fingers into Verso's hair and gently drags him off his neck. ]
Can't I have one patch of skin that you haven't marked up? What am I supposed to tell the others?
[ It isn't as though Lune and Sciel don't know what these bruises are, after all. His scarf covers most of them, but not all, and he's caught them sliding sidelong glances his way more than once: Lune's exasperated and Sciel's amused. All he can hope is that they each might think it was the other one who gave them to him, but there's not much likelihood there.
He slides his hand back down to Verso's neck, humming a softly amused sound as the man kisses his way back up along his neck to his ear. ]
Maybe I'd prefer to be your Monsieur le fleuriste instead, for a while longer.
[ Not that there's anything wrong with being an engineer, but it's certainly a lot less romantic and appealing, a lot closer to the reality of everything he is and has to do. Particularly when the only engineering and design he's likely to do for a while is this one task for a gestral.
Verso's fingers travel down his chest and he shivers pleasantly, then gasps softly at the bright spark of sensation as they toy with his nipple. It tightens under Verso's touch, his body eager for the feel of his hands, his fingers, his mouth.
A little breathless: ]
Not as much as I might hope for, I think.