[Pressure. Along his spine, against the edges of his fingertips. Would Hux think less of him if he settles stiffly? If he fails to respond with eager affection or casual indifference? Likely not. Not with the humming, breathy reminder of Hux's own trepidation and desire hovering so close across his skin.
They've hated one another, after all. Fought like brothers, both for and against each other over the years. It makes it easier, somehow. Sets the bar lower by default, where so much else would leave him stricken with frigid immobility. Here, at least, he can slacken beneath Hux's fingertips, across the span of his hips and the warmth of his palm. To say nothing for as long as he likes, slipping backwards to perch at the edge of the couch, lifting his chin in a gesture for Hux to move closer instead. Posturing, predictably.]
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momijizukamori
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Date: 2016-10-02 10:19 am (UTC)They've hated one another, after all. Fought like brothers, both for and against each other over the years. It makes it easier, somehow. Sets the bar lower by default, where so much else would leave him stricken with frigid immobility. Here, at least, he can slacken beneath Hux's fingertips, across the span of his hips and the warmth of his palm. To say nothing for as long as he likes, slipping backwards to perch at the edge of the couch, lifting his chin in a gesture for Hux to move closer instead. Posturing, predictably.]