[...Seriously, what the hell is this now!? How do they keep finding themselves like this...and why is it each time he finds himself not disliking it? He's naturally tense due to the situation, but he's not actually uncomfortable. If anything—no, stop that foolishness.
If only it were so easy.
Although his eyes remain mostly focused on hers, with them now momentarily still several things are picked up at once. The way her breath tickles his lips almost teasing them, his own breathing a little steadier but slightly quickened from the sudden action. How her hands and arms press against his chest, his own still firmly gripped at her sides. Belatedly it's realized that instead of fabric what he's really feeling is the warmth of her smooth skin, her muscles taut from the tension, similar to his own. And their legs still tangled, hips just resting over his...
None of this should have made him think or feel anything other than, "We need to separate," and yet a completely different impulse is starting to develop. One that isn't helped when she starts talking because the movement can still be felt and his eyes instinctively flick down—
And for once he is grateful for that kitten because the moment Clover pops her head in the strange feeling is broken as if q bucket of cold water had been dumped on him. Honestly maybe he really does need it—]
...Just try sitting up first and get the sheets off us before she decides to do something else to make this worse.
[His brain now functioning properly again, he just tries to focus on the real problem and gives out directions. His voice is a little stiff and slightly terse, but that could probably be expected given their compromised positioning and everything leading up to it.]
no subject
If only it were so easy.
Although his eyes remain mostly focused on hers, with them now momentarily still several things are picked up at once. The way her breath tickles his lips almost teasing them, his own breathing a little steadier but slightly quickened from the sudden action. How her hands and arms press against his chest, his own still firmly gripped at her sides. Belatedly it's realized that instead of fabric what he's really feeling is the warmth of her smooth skin, her muscles taut from the tension, similar to his own. And their legs still tangled, hips just resting over his...
None of this should have made him think or feel anything other than, "We need to separate," and yet a completely different impulse is starting to develop. One that isn't helped when she starts talking because the movement can still be felt and his eyes instinctively flick down—
And for once he is grateful for that kitten because the moment Clover pops her head in the strange feeling is broken as if q bucket of cold water had been dumped on him. Honestly maybe he really does need it—]
...Just try sitting up first and get the sheets off us before she decides to do something else to make this worse.
[His brain now functioning properly again, he just tries to focus on the real problem and gives out directions. His voice is a little stiff and slightly terse, but that could probably be expected given their compromised positioning and everything leading up to it.]