Something lonely and yearning stirred in Edmund in congruence. It was a feeling he was used to pushing down deep, for it served no purpose here where an intimacy with anyone was a dangerous, useless thing. But the pliant drape of Ienzo's body, the whispered confessions, needled at him that his own words might turn very well on himself. You needn't be entirely alone.
"Then be kind to it," he replied simply, a hand passing over Ienzo's slight chest. "As you would be to your body." Whether or not there was a cure for it wasn't the point. Whatever troubled this boy, it weighed heavy enough on him to keep him up at night. It wasn't fair for him to bear all the burden of those unanswered questions alone.
His flush betrayed him when insinuations were turned his way suddenly. Edmund looked away, pointedly. "They're just nightmares," he said, pushing down the rise of panic. He had no idea what he'd cried out in his sleep, that Ienzo might have heard. "A bad supper can do that to a fellow. Or a lumpy rock of a bed."
Hoping for distraction, he slid his fingers through the curiously silky spiked locks. Ienzo really didn't mind this touch, did he? "I wouldn't turn down that offer. If it isn't any bother." Till then, he would just have to angle for some oral recitation of those dangerous musings. If he could manage it without adding to Ienzo's case of heartsickness.
"Lost yourself?" Edmund pressed his lips together thoughtfully. The wriggling of back and thighs under his fingers was not the resistance of a frigid tarte nor a shy retreating virgin. There was another pause as he weighed his probable success and, finally, went with his gut. He laid the bottle to one side, out of the way, and reached for Ienzo. His hands took hold of gracefully flared hips and drew them, not inescapably, towards his lap.
"I don't mean anything by this," he murmured, soothing, almost apologetic. "I just thought you might...miss this. Maybe." He didn't have any real evidence, only suspicions, assumptions, and hunches to go off of. But the way Ienzo had spoken so adoringly of his older chums...
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Date: 2017-02-04 11:11 pm (UTC)"Then be kind to it," he replied simply, a hand passing over Ienzo's slight chest. "As you would be to your body." Whether or not there was a cure for it wasn't the point. Whatever troubled this boy, it weighed heavy enough on him to keep him up at night. It wasn't fair for him to bear all the burden of those unanswered questions alone.
His flush betrayed him when insinuations were turned his way suddenly. Edmund looked away, pointedly. "They're just nightmares," he said, pushing down the rise of panic. He had no idea what he'd cried out in his sleep, that Ienzo might have heard. "A bad supper can do that to a fellow. Or a lumpy rock of a bed."
Hoping for distraction, he slid his fingers through the curiously silky spiked locks. Ienzo really didn't mind this touch, did he? "I wouldn't turn down that offer. If it isn't any bother." Till then, he would just have to angle for some oral recitation of those dangerous musings. If he could manage it without adding to Ienzo's case of heartsickness.
"Lost yourself?" Edmund pressed his lips together thoughtfully. The wriggling of back and thighs under his fingers was not the resistance of a frigid tarte nor a shy retreating virgin. There was another pause as he weighed his probable success and, finally, went with his gut. He laid the bottle to one side, out of the way, and reached for Ienzo. His hands took hold of gracefully flared hips and drew them, not inescapably, towards his lap.
"I don't mean anything by this," he murmured, soothing, almost apologetic. "I just thought you might...miss this. Maybe." He didn't have any real evidence, only suspicions, assumptions, and hunches to go off of. But the way Ienzo had spoken so adoringly of his older chums...