( milo lowers himself to his knees before him and mat watches with wide-eyed wonder, lips parted and hands wandering absently against milo's shoulders, his forearms out of sheer need to touch him, some way and some how, as palms caress his thighs almost reverently. he doesn't even realize that he's holding his breath until those deft fingers unbutton his pants — until mat exhales sharply, meeting milo's gaze and seemingly unable to look away.
there's a moment where he can hardly do anything but gape a little as he curls fingers into his waistband — but he finally nods emphatically, practically whispers out a soft, ) Okay.
( and there's a bundle of nervous energy that coils low in his stomach, but that is exciting to mat, this boy who has felt uncertain about most everything in his life, certain about something at last — about how much he trusts milo, how milo will take care of him, how milo is the first thing he thinks about when he wakes up and the last when he lays his head down to sleep. anything new is bound to be frightening, but they'll be together, just as they've been.
his hands leave milo's arms so that his fingers can curl into the blanket beneath him, hips lifting to allow milo to tug his trousers off of him, chest and cheeks flushing even further once he realizes just how much more of him is exposed, the curved stretch of cotton briefs straining against him entirely unsubtle. mat has been — turned on before, of course, but this is perhaps the first time that he's wanted to do anything about it other than willing himself to think about anything but.
no, milo still kneels between his legs, and mat thinks about his mouth with a jolt that practically makes his heart stop, thinks about that crooked grin, thinks about the warm slide of milo's lips against his, his tongue — nngh, gods, he's already leaking against the soft cotton, far too eager, and it's then that he's hit with a spark of courageousness which makes him lift his hips up again and tug down his underwear, a hand hastily reaching out to grab milo's, fingers linking together and squeezing once, as much of a reassurance to himself as it is to milo that he wants this — wants him. )
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sforzinda
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Date: 2019-05-03 07:32 pm (UTC)there's a moment where he can hardly do anything but gape a little as he curls fingers into his waistband — but he finally nods emphatically, practically whispers out a soft, ) Okay.
( and there's a bundle of nervous energy that coils low in his stomach, but that is exciting to mat, this boy who has felt uncertain about most everything in his life, certain about something at last — about how much he trusts milo, how milo will take care of him, how milo is the first thing he thinks about when he wakes up and the last when he lays his head down to sleep. anything new is bound to be frightening, but they'll be together, just as they've been.
his hands leave milo's arms so that his fingers can curl into the blanket beneath him, hips lifting to allow milo to tug his trousers off of him, chest and cheeks flushing even further once he realizes just how much more of him is exposed, the curved stretch of cotton briefs straining against him entirely unsubtle. mat has been — turned on before, of course, but this is perhaps the first time that he's wanted to do anything about it other than willing himself to think about anything but.
no, milo still kneels between his legs, and mat thinks about his mouth with a jolt that practically makes his heart stop, thinks about that crooked grin, thinks about the warm slide of milo's lips against his, his tongue — nngh, gods, he's already leaking against the soft cotton, far too eager, and it's then that he's hit with a spark of courageousness which makes him lift his hips up again and tug down his underwear, a hand hastily reaching out to grab milo's, fingers linking together and squeezing once, as much of a reassurance to himself as it is to milo that he wants this — wants him. )