[ Angeal smirks a little at the growl, but doesn't slow down further. He wants to make this good, not actually try Sephiroth's patience. So when contact happens - and, oh, it's somehow different to have his hand wrapped around Sephiroth rather than himself - he sinks into sensations, including watching his
Partner. Watching his partner...
get lost for a moment or ten.
(This close, he can see the way his pupils change, and a part of him, a very, very quiet at this time part, does remark that he should have realized Sephiroth is not only human a long, long time ago.) (Then he realizes it doesn't matter. They are here now.)
His hand slows down somewhat, as Sephiroth makes an attempt to speak, then to move, and he adjusts accordingly ... letting his hand slide across Sephiroth's shoulders and hold him close, wrapping the warm palm around the opposite, powerful shoulder.
Sephiroth finishes the thought, the demonstration, the question, and Angeal loses his breath for another moment. Despite it being the most logical option, the fact that it is wanted by Sephiroth still, still is almost too much.
He shifts his hand so his fingers tangle with Sephiroth's, around their joined lengths, and squeezes, very gently. ]
I will very much like that, yes. [ A beat, and then, quieter, a little sheepish. ] Just let me know if it gets too dry for you?
[ ... not that he has anything actually useful. But he can, uh. Spit? That can help a tiny bit. For his part... he can work with dry. Over the last months and months, whenever he has indulged, it has been halfway mixed with punishing himself, so, uh. Sephiroth's comfort levels might be more relevant. ]
no subject
Partner. Watching his partner...
get lost for a moment or ten.
(This close, he can see the way his pupils change, and a part of him, a very, very quiet at this time part, does remark that he should have realized Sephiroth is not only human a long, long time ago.) (Then he realizes it doesn't matter. They are here now.)
His hand slows down somewhat, as Sephiroth makes an attempt to speak, then to move, and he adjusts accordingly ... letting his hand slide across Sephiroth's shoulders and hold him close, wrapping the warm palm around the opposite, powerful shoulder.
Sephiroth finishes the thought, the demonstration, the question, and Angeal loses his breath for another moment. Despite it being the most logical option, the fact that it is wanted by Sephiroth still, still is almost too much.
He shifts his hand so his fingers tangle with Sephiroth's, around their joined lengths, and squeezes, very gently. ]
I will very much like that, yes. [ A beat, and then, quieter, a little sheepish. ] Just let me know if it gets too dry for you?
[ ... not that he has anything actually useful. But he can, uh. Spit? That can help a tiny bit. For his part... he can work with dry. Over the last months and months, whenever he has indulged, it has been halfway mixed with punishing himself, so, uh. Sephiroth's comfort levels might be more relevant. ]