[ it is curious to consider but all the more thrilling to perform exercises on. it all holds about the same amount of charge they'd get from their early discoveries, if not more. how . . . fun, and simple, those were. jayce listens and takes his own notes, both on what viktor describes as much as what he personally feels (any sparking? thrums? he could feel it following his fingers). he's allowing his hands to tread lightly, but considers, just as lips approach his, that the pressure exerted from his palms could benefit from a change.
jayce feels now, eyes closed and kneading the bumps, dips and irregular grooves with lethargic, analyzing progress. the light click of parting lips has jayce knocking his head forward with low words and electric suggestion. ]
I think our data's insufficient.
[ they clearly need to kiss more. he needs another, and sneaks a second and third brush to the corners of viktor's lips, the last of the cluster upon his mole. they could vary weights and pressures, wet or dry, different angles, different spots. jayce's tongue swipes over the shine of his mouth and stray whiskers before he begins his next kissing endeavor: a languid, damp invite, face tipped sideways and inhaling the scent of his partner inside his cheek. he could count the gaps of space following viktor's canines on each side, and how he'd curl his tongue to him. phenominal, how it lights up every sensory synapse.
touch doesn't stop there, his palms have made it to his slender abdomen and narrowed hips, testing the bolts and bars on the way down. there are fissures, above and in the sockets of his femurs decked in gold and twined with purple— how far in did those go? what were the limits of the symmetrical golden rods of what used to be his hip bones? jayce's fingers test every slip he could find and probes within, carefully, gently, until the very last rim of space available to him is found. that, or if he's given signals to abort. ]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2025-03-19 10:13 am (UTC)jayce feels now, eyes closed and kneading the bumps, dips and irregular grooves with lethargic, analyzing progress. the light click of parting lips has jayce knocking his head forward with low words and electric suggestion. ]
I think our data's insufficient.
[ they clearly need to kiss more. he needs another, and sneaks a second and third brush to the corners of viktor's lips, the last of the cluster upon his mole. they could vary weights and pressures, wet or dry, different angles, different spots. jayce's tongue swipes over the shine of his mouth and stray whiskers before he begins his next kissing endeavor: a languid, damp invite, face tipped sideways and inhaling the scent of his partner inside his cheek. he could count the gaps of space following viktor's canines on each side, and how he'd curl his tongue to him. phenominal, how it lights up every sensory synapse.
touch doesn't stop there, his palms have made it to his slender abdomen and narrowed hips, testing the bolts and bars on the way down. there are fissures, above and in the sockets of his femurs decked in gold and twined with purple— how far in did those go? what were the limits of the symmetrical golden rods of what used to be his hip bones? jayce's fingers test every slip he could find and probes within, carefully, gently, until the very last rim of space available to him is found. that, or if he's given signals to abort. ]