[ There's a moment he loses his breath at the forceful way he's drawn in, and briefly, Egil wonders if this man is going to do something juvenile like shove him away from the safety of the sand that shifts beneath their feet. Yet, that doesn't come. Instead, it's the warm pressure of his mouth, and there's the familiar taste of that juice that had been going around when it deepens just a fraction. It's easy to freeze, his fingers curled tightly around his device and the other paused in mid-air—like he doesn't know what to do; he's never really been kissed before. Not like this, not without having started it himself. (And even then, it had just been one time.)
Eventually, he rests his free hand against Erik's chest and pulls away. He manages to juggle typing out with one hand even as he looks at him, the letters a bit smashed together because he can't focus on that and how easy it would be to tease him for something more. ]
no subject
Eventually, he rests his free hand against Erik's chest and pulls away. He manages to juggle typing out with one hand even as he looks at him, the letters a bit smashed together because he can't focus on that and how easy it would be to tease him for something more. ]
do you kiss everyone you meet?