[It's less that Angeal is anything approaching a joke or a failure, and more that Sephiroth would simply be relieved to know he's not only one feeling like he's floundering hopelessly through this. He's so used to knowing how to gracefully traverse nearly any situation, and having all of that stripped away into raw vulnerability is... quite terrifying. He trusts Angeal, of course, but...
Well. It's a complicated mess of emotions. One that he'd rather not linger on too much if he can help it.
For the time being, he's glad to lose himself in this rush of heat and desire. His head dips a little lower until his face is faintly buried against the curve of Angeal's shoulder, where he's a little more willing to indulge in a muffled but pleasured sound or two as Angeal starts to find a little rhythm and friction with their movements. He's content to follow his lead, only making a small adjustment here and there until--]
--You want to move now? [If Sephiroth sounds a little exasperated-- well. He is, having been jarred out of his reverie a little. It would be more comfortable, true... but the way they're entangled makes movement a little difficult. It's not like Sephiroth has a tiny couch by any means, but it's not exactly the most spacious thing for two mountain-sized men to be rolling about on.
It's with a sigh that he relents.] As you wish. [But then he lifts his head until his mouth finds the stretch of exposed skin between the neckline of Angeal's shirt and his jaw, suckling a rough little kiss into his neck-- teeth and all. An affectionate warning to punctuate his next words:]
You best not let me fall off this couch, Angeal Hewley.
[And then he'll relinquish some of his weight into leaning with him. His fate is in your hands, Angeal. No pressure.]
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Well. It's a complicated mess of emotions. One that he'd rather not linger on too much if he can help it.
For the time being, he's glad to lose himself in this rush of heat and desire. His head dips a little lower until his face is faintly buried against the curve of Angeal's shoulder, where he's a little more willing to indulge in a muffled but pleasured sound or two as Angeal starts to find a little rhythm and friction with their movements. He's content to follow his lead, only making a small adjustment here and there until--]
--You want to move now? [If Sephiroth sounds a little exasperated-- well. He is, having been jarred out of his reverie a little. It would be more comfortable, true... but the way they're entangled makes movement a little difficult. It's not like Sephiroth has a tiny couch by any means, but it's not exactly the most spacious thing for two mountain-sized men to be rolling about on.
It's with a sigh that he relents.] As you wish. [But then he lifts his head until his mouth finds the stretch of exposed skin between the neckline of Angeal's shirt and his jaw, suckling a rough little kiss into his neck-- teeth and all. An affectionate warning to punctuate his next words:]
You best not let me fall off this couch, Angeal Hewley.
[And then he'll relinquish some of his weight into leaning with him. His fate is in your hands, Angeal. No pressure.]