( it's a relief, somehow, to hear those words slip past milo's lips that mathias can still taste — validation, perhaps, that these sudden feelings storming inside of him are legitimate, not just a product of the danger that has befallen them, except ...
except mathias is still scared, and the more he thinks about how afraid he was in that moment, about what was unleashed from his palms because of it, the more scared he gets. somehow, this new unknown with milo feels welcoming, a pleasant alternative that mat is prepared to dive headfirst into if it means forgetting about what has happened, if only temporarily, especially if it means losing himself in this boy that he's very quickly realizing he cares for deeply — even more deeply than he had thought possible.
it's overwhelming, this realization, a thought that makes his throat tighten until he swallows hard, forehead still nudged against milo's and holding onto him so very tightly as he's guided from the wall, backed into the bedroom that mat finds so familiar from the (admittedly more than anticipated) nights in which milo insists he take the bed versus the couch. his eyes are bright as ever as his calves hit the bed frame, a little startled by it, but he buries that surprise in another stolen kiss, a quick thing, so that milo can speak again — )
Alright, I — ( and mat swallows again, fingers dragging along the side of the other boy's neck as he sits at the edge of the mattress and can't quite reach any longer. the absence of milo's warmth pressed against him is staggering, and though the swirls of snowflakes that have ignored the boundaries of this new room and dance through the air and land on milo's furniture don't bother him, he's simply incapable of ignoring that need to have this boy close.
so his knees might part instinctively, newly free hand joining his other at the small of milo's back, tugging him needily towards him until he's flush between his thighs, and mat tips his head up to meet his gaze, bright blue peeking from behind tousled strands of silvery white, teeth catching his lip as he finds himself practically begging for more through his gaze alone, too shy to say it out loud, to verbalize anything other than a soft: ) Please ...
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sforzinda
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Date: 2019-04-08 01:45 am (UTC)except mathias is still scared, and the more he thinks about how afraid he was in that moment, about what was unleashed from his palms because of it, the more scared he gets. somehow, this new unknown with milo feels welcoming, a pleasant alternative that mat is prepared to dive headfirst into if it means forgetting about what has happened, if only temporarily, especially if it means losing himself in this boy that he's very quickly realizing he cares for deeply — even more deeply than he had thought possible.
it's overwhelming, this realization, a thought that makes his throat tighten until he swallows hard, forehead still nudged against milo's and holding onto him so very tightly as he's guided from the wall, backed into the bedroom that mat finds so familiar from the (admittedly more than anticipated) nights in which milo insists he take the bed versus the couch. his eyes are bright as ever as his calves hit the bed frame, a little startled by it, but he buries that surprise in another stolen kiss, a quick thing, so that milo can speak again — )
Alright, I — ( and mat swallows again, fingers dragging along the side of the other boy's neck as he sits at the edge of the mattress and can't quite reach any longer. the absence of milo's warmth pressed against him is staggering, and though the swirls of snowflakes that have ignored the boundaries of this new room and dance through the air and land on milo's furniture don't bother him, he's simply incapable of ignoring that need to have this boy close.
so his knees might part instinctively, newly free hand joining his other at the small of milo's back, tugging him needily towards him until he's flush between his thighs, and mat tips his head up to meet his gaze, bright blue peeking from behind tousled strands of silvery white, teeth catching his lip as he finds himself practically begging for more through his gaze alone, too shy to say it out loud, to verbalize anything other than a soft: ) Please ...