[a lover's kiss... it's something Blue only has peripheral understanding of - the vibrations of the emotions without the physicality lingers. he lacks the totality, but the intermingling of their shared desires fills in the gaps quite nicely - all the breathless delight without any of the inconveniences of not knowing what happens next. so when Yzak's hand moves to find bare skin, that intention yields the understanding, and Blue in turn can enjoy the caress, and in the waking world he aches not in pain, but in pleasure.
everything feels warmer then, and Blue longs to indulge in it more. echoes of their real kisses inform the pleasing tingle of their lips, and their tongues meeting translates to Blue as acceptance and need. right now it feels real, and Blue's not lucid enough to think otherwise, so he doesn't question it at all. doesn't question whatever it is Yzak even sends his hand roaming under! is it that blouse he found Blue enticing in? something else? doesn't matter.
doesn't matter that when Blue arches his back in response to that grind, it's now from laying down. when did they get there? how long ago? also doesn't matter. his own fingers thread through Yzak's fine, thin hair, glide along the impression of muscle and bone concealed by fabric, curl a little when his hips roll again and elicit that shuddering response. it's good. all of it. and how it's come to be doesn't matter.]
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everything feels warmer then, and Blue longs to indulge in it more. echoes of their real kisses inform the pleasing tingle of their lips, and their tongues meeting translates to Blue as acceptance and need. right now it feels real, and Blue's not lucid enough to think otherwise, so he doesn't question it at all. doesn't question whatever it is Yzak even sends his hand roaming under! is it that blouse he found Blue enticing in? something else? doesn't matter.
doesn't matter that when Blue arches his back in response to that grind, it's now from laying down. when did they get there? how long ago? also doesn't matter. his own fingers thread through Yzak's fine, thin hair, glide along the impression of muscle and bone concealed by fabric, curl a little when his hips roll again and elicit that shuddering response. it's good. all of it. and how it's come to be doesn't matter.]