crescentview | 🍇 the winter of our discontent 🍇

Then we're on the same page.

[His free hand moves up to cup over the side of the other's sunken face, soft fingertips pressing against hard cheekbones before he leans up his head. A pause - he internally worries there's a chance that the other may not like it, its always so hard to say with Lovecraft - before he meets the other's lips gently, sweetly.]

[Nothing at all major. But it somehow feels major, heart racing a little in his chest from the contact.]

[Lovecraft's eyes slide closed before Steinbeck even gets to the kiss, taking in the sensation of Steinbeck's hand against him. It's nice to have that done to him.

He almost cracks an eye back open when the kiss doesn't come immediately after, but before he can, he feels Steinbeck's lips on his own. To his surprise, it sends a delighted shiver down his spine, almost as if the joining of their lips created an electric spark.

So that's why humans like kissing so much.

He blindly tries to find a place to put his cup of unfinished hot chocolate so he give Steinbeck his full attention. The kiss that he returns is a little more needy- a little more hungry. It could be likened to when Lovecraft happens upon a particularly tasty treat. He can't get at it quickly enough.]

[He's half expecting the kiss to be short. Perhaps Lovecraft would pull back, crinkle his nose, murmur that he would have to get used to the sensation before trying something like that again. Or maybe he'd just stares down at Steinbeck and offer nothing at all in terms of reaction or expression, like water sliding off a duck's (octopus's?) back.]

[The return of the kiss in this way is a surprise. Steinbeck lets out a little nose in the midst of it, but doesn't pull away. His grip tightens slightly on the other's face, before sliding down to his neck as he meets the other's effort with a little more passion from his slide, sinking into the feeling of cool lips against his own warmth.]

[There's...nothing like it. There's something about this that's getting a little addictive, like stepping down into an abyss.]

[It's a perfect combo, hot on cold. Being right up against Steinbeck's warm body like this reminds Lovecraft of how good it felt to be tucked into bed on his first night here in Crescentview. It's the sort of warmth that makes him feel safe and at home.

It feels right, in other words.

At some point, they do have to separate just for a little bit. Lovecraft licks his lips after he pulls away a little.]

I could taste the hot chocolate on you.

[That's it. That's the first thing he's going to say about it. But his actions beforehand speak louder, surely.]

[When they separate, he has to take in a little shuddering breath as if to ground himself. That was...]

Wow.

[Something else, alright. He can't even fully explain it. Perhaps it really is that connection between them, the foundation already there, that elevates something simple into something so enjoyable.]

[His free hand moves to embrace the man, splaying against his back to keep him close.]

Haha, did you? I did too. [He laughs a little.] I think you tasted sweeter, though.

[Oh, the embrace feels nice too. Lovecraft takes the opportunity to sink into it.]

I did have more hot chocolate than you, so I suppose that makes sense...

[This intimate moment is clearly the time and place to make factual observations. At least the next one to come after he lets out a contented sigh has more significance.]

That felt nice. I like your touch...a lot.

[It's a surprise to him, but a welcome one. It might become a problem down the line when he is no longer able to receive Steinbeck's touch, but he'll have to make a conscious effort to slow down and get the most out of their time together.]

Maybe it's that. Or maybe you're naturally sweet.

[He flushes a little at the compliment, feeling warm all over - a steady heat beats through his chest, and he gazes at Lovecraft with a little lovesickness, fond as fond can be.]

I'll have to give you a lot more of it. [And now he presses a little dot of a kiss against his neck. It's nice. It's so nice to have Lovecraft here, willing, and more than happy to receive what he shares. He wants to share.] I've decided it. I'm going to spoil you so bad.

[Steinbeck would be the first to say something like that about Lovecraft. But at this point, Steinbeck has done so many firsts toward Lovecraft that he's stopped keeping count. All he knows is that this something new that he actually enjoys and he's going to savor it.

His hearing isn't what it used to be, not after the Goddess took away much of his power, but he can still faintly hear Steinbeck's heartbeat. It's louder now, to match the look Steinbeck's giving him. This, coupled with the sweet kiss against his neck, is enough to bring about another pleased shiver.

He finds himself staring back with an unintended intensity as he blurts:]

H-How are you going to spoil me?

[It's not unusual for Lovecraft to stumble over his words, but this time it's not out of nerves. It's as though he couldn't ask that question quickly enough.]

[Lovecraft is not punctual. He's not quick on the draw. "Fast" could never be used to describe him. And yet, when the words tumble out of his mouth, Steinbeck stares for a moment, a little surprised to hear it in a tone that is not quite as anxious as he expected, before he breaks out into a peal of laughter.]

Are you getting eager on me, partner? [Partner. He likes the sound of that, with new layers of meaning - his teeth shines as brightly as his eyes as he grins.] Why, make you all your favorite foods. Give you all the gifts you like. Spend time with you tryin' out whatever you want.

[A little pause as he inches closer, peppers another kiss to below his jawline.]

Even more of stuff like this, if you know what I mean. I just want you to feel good.

[It's hard not to look a little embarrassed upon being called out so clearly, but Lovecraft is also painfully honest, so...]

...Yes.

[He is very, very eager, and that eagerness only grows as Steinbeck elaborates. If he'd configured this body to an actually human temperature, there's no doubt that there would be color creeping into his face when Steinbeck goes in for another kiss. Hopefully the bashful look on his face and the slow swallowing of excitement is enough evidence for Steinbeck to enjoy.]

That sounds amazing. I am looking forward to these spoils.

[It's his turn to plant another kiss upon Steinbeck.]

Thank you, John. Thank you for being...you.

[Lovecraft's life has primarily been a subservient one. Whenever he wasn't sleeping, he functioned as a tool to further someone's goals. This is the first time anyone has wanted him around for him. Not to make him work, but to care for him and spoil him. To love him. Him! How could he not fall in love in return?

John Steinbeck is one of a kind, and Lovecraft is grateful to be his partner.]

Eagerness is a good look on you.

[He's seen it before in Lovecraft's eyes - the emotion that pulls him away from a job, or towards some chocolate pastry in a bakery. But here, Lovecraft is eager for him.]

[He catches the bob of the other's neck, a little thrill of delight singing through his chest as he meets the kiss like its as natural as breathing.]

Ah. [That statement catches him by slight surprise, his eyelashes fluttering as he draws back, bright blue staring into dull purple. His hand tickles over the back of the other's neck, drawing a little figure eight as he lets the words settle into his heart and mind. He wants to remember them forever.] I should be saying that. Thank you for being you.

[A kiss to the nose, a kiss to his lips, a kiss to his chin, eyes a little wet. Must be raining in here.]

Thank you for everything, honestly.

[A figure eight...the symbol of infinity. Eternity. That certainly gives Lovecraft further confirmation that this is also what Steinbeck wants.

By the time Steinbeck finishes his flurry of kisses, he'll find that a small smile has crept onto Lovecraft's lips. A herculean effort, all for him.]

I think...we'll both be here for a while if we keep this up, so...

[He pulls up his sleeve to dab at Steinbeck's eyes. For once, he doesn't fret about his partner being brought to tears. If he's reading the situation correctly, surely they can only be from joy.]

You're welcome.

You sound like you don't mind it.

[Lovecraft can be a sort of an abyss, he thinks. A mysterious pit to wander into and be lost forever, like the depths of the ocean, almost never seen, altogether unknown.]

[But here, he wants to embrace it, sink into it, hold it close, infuse it with what little warmth he has. Perhaps that's pathetically human of him, but...if Lovecraft doesn't mind, then why should he?]

Mm. [He makes a little face at his tears being dabbed, but he doesn't mind it, snuggling in a little more.] I'm never going to let you go.

[Once Lovecraft is satisfied with handling Steinbeck's tears, he shifts to fully embrace him. The warmth of Steinbeck resting against him feels very nice- like it was meant to be there. He could get used to this.

Except a thought occurs to him.]

You're going to have to at some point, John... How will we cook dinner attached to each other like this?

[But in a metaphorical sense, he's glad to hear those words. He has no intention of letting go either. Steinbeck will never be lonely again, not on Lovecraft's watch.]

🍇 the winter of our discontent 🍇

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