[ Not exactly the best place to start it all. But, He Xuan's already ceded into impatience quick enough that such an area doesn't seem all that terrible.
...Then again? It hadn't been his back against the sink. ]
How is that vague—?
[ Anything else he might have said is dissipating in real time for the moment when Tartaglia dares to push him back—all the way up against the bedroom mirror, for once his footing off due to not anticipating the other man's movements as much. Any indication of mild petulance having all but vanished with him distracted, that thumb soon tracing against skin that is normally unnaturally cold, strangely heated to lukewarm by the affliction.
Good timing for Tartaglia to pose those questions, He Xuan only speaking quick enough to add— ]
Can say it just fucking fine.
[ Not that there's much opportunity to say anything else, with the other decisively pressing into a heated kiss—his own lips are already parted, wanting more, more and more. He's leaning into it himself, unwilling to do nothing, cherishing the roughness of it. When Tartaglia breaks away, it feels far too quick; he's severely out of it. Aching enough that going about this logically is an impossibility, and the admittance falls from his lips too easily. ]
I wanted you ever since we first met up at the lake. Thought about it often, even afterwards.
[ He Xuan goes in for another kiss swiftly, to smother Tartaglia in it. That, with a bite on the other man's lip as his hands are already moving over to the other male's hips, gripping tightly. And then shift his footing so he can put effort into switching their positions, aiming for Tartaglia's back to be against the mirror. ]
no subject
...Then again? It hadn't been his back against the sink. ]
How is that vague—?
[ Anything else he might have said is dissipating in real time for the moment when Tartaglia dares to push him back—all the way up against the bedroom mirror, for once his footing off due to not anticipating the other man's movements as much. Any indication of mild petulance having all but vanished with him distracted, that thumb soon tracing against skin that is normally unnaturally cold, strangely heated to lukewarm by the affliction.
Good timing for Tartaglia to pose those questions, He Xuan only speaking quick enough to add— ]
Can say it just fucking fine.
[ Not that there's much opportunity to say anything else, with the other decisively pressing into a heated kiss—his own lips are already parted, wanting more, more and more. He's leaning into it himself, unwilling to do nothing, cherishing the roughness of it. When Tartaglia breaks away, it feels far too quick; he's severely out of it. Aching enough that going about this logically is an impossibility, and the admittance falls from his lips too easily. ]
I wanted you ever since we first met up at the lake. Thought about it often, even afterwards.
[ He Xuan goes in for another kiss swiftly, to smother Tartaglia in it. That, with a bite on the other man's lip as his hands are already moving over to the other male's hips, gripping tightly. And then shift his footing so he can put effort into switching their positions, aiming for Tartaglia's back to be against the mirror. ]