( there's ringing in his ears as mathias lays back, lashes fluttered closed, shirt rucked up high on his chest as it rises and falls with each inhale and exhale, one shaky, sudden breath escaping him, fingertips brushing idly over the comforter. though surrounded by flakes of snow that outline their bodies, mat can only feel warm, so amazingly warm —
and then there's milo, this boy who is warmth personified, who touches him so tenderly as he settles above him, and the sound of his name, breathed so softly, makes mathias blink his eyes open slowly, blue eyes bright and practically awestruck as he looks up at the boy before him. it threatens to overwhelm him, the feeling that bubbles in his chest and tightens in his throat as he takes in that crooked smile, relishes in the tender press of lips against his cheek, the slow drag of fingers against his scalp to brush his hair from his eyes, cheeks flushed. )
I'm okay, ( mathias can finally reply, meeting milo's gaze. with another shaky inhale as he settles, his arms wind around the other boy, palms against his shoulder blades. there's wonderment, nearly disbelief in his voice as he breathes out: ) Oh, my gods, Milo ...
( and it all hits him hard and suddenly, the rush of emotions that have flooded over him in the past few hours, and — a short, giddy little laugh leaves him, his arms tightening around milo and a leg hooking over his waist, cutting himself off with a kiss stolen against his lips. again and again, he kisses him, punctuated with quiet, reverent utterances of his name, ) Milo — Milo — you're so — Gods —
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sforzinda
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Date: 2019-12-01 08:14 pm (UTC)and then there's milo, this boy who is warmth personified, who touches him so tenderly as he settles above him, and the sound of his name, breathed so softly, makes mathias blink his eyes open slowly, blue eyes bright and practically awestruck as he looks up at the boy before him. it threatens to overwhelm him, the feeling that bubbles in his chest and tightens in his throat as he takes in that crooked smile, relishes in the tender press of lips against his cheek, the slow drag of fingers against his scalp to brush his hair from his eyes, cheeks flushed. )
I'm okay, ( mathias can finally reply, meeting milo's gaze. with another shaky inhale as he settles, his arms wind around the other boy, palms against his shoulder blades. there's wonderment, nearly disbelief in his voice as he breathes out: ) Oh, my gods, Milo ...
( and it all hits him hard and suddenly, the rush of emotions that have flooded over him in the past few hours, and — a short, giddy little laugh leaves him, his arms tightening around milo and a leg hooking over his waist, cutting himself off with a kiss stolen against his lips. again and again, he kisses him, punctuated with quiet, reverent utterances of his name, ) Milo — Milo — you're so — Gods —