[L hasn't had the time to disconnect and really evaluate everything he's feeling. It's a strange place to be, caught up in touch and sensation while nothing has been properly labeled and analyzed.
It's a kind of free fall. If he did stop to think about this, something would be loss, some momentum would grind to a halt and they'd smooth their hair and clothes, laugh awkwardly and rejoin the party because what else could they do, and that isn't what he wants.
He presses his hands forward against the other man's warm chest, not considering Shōyō's heels as the sturdiness of the wall at the redhead's back strikes a solid contrast to his own spindly insubstantiality. His head is hazy with an overload of intense but broad awareness; he can feel his blood, he can see bright shimmering pinpricks when he closes his eyes, Shōyō tastes sweet and human all at the same time. Everything his mind is overwhelmed to keep track of is something his body has pared down to simplicity and purpose, however, and at Shōyō's half-formed and nudging guidance, he's nodding before he's processed it.]
Right...!
[As though he'll have the first idea what to do when they're on it. There's possessing a mechanical knowledge of how that goes, while also being riddled with anxieties over what might stop or complicate it. At the heart of it is the simple fact that L has never done this before, which is unusual for a man in his mid-twenties. However natural it seems, the potential to screw it all up seems enormous and heavy as their legs bump irregularly against the edge of the mattress and L is half-climbing and half-falling gracelessly onto it, half-pulling and half-pushing Shōyō along with him and unintentionally digging into some part of his partner with his knee when he comes down half-on-top.
That felt like it probably hurt; he hopes that it didn't. Kisses will make it better, hopefully? He pushes their faces together again, a flourish to distract from an error, starting to undo the buttons of Shōyō's shirt. Shōyō had seemed to really like being touched underneath it, and ultimately it's just in the way, with that frame of mind.]
no subject
It's a kind of free fall. If he did stop to think about this, something would be loss, some momentum would grind to a halt and they'd smooth their hair and clothes, laugh awkwardly and rejoin the party because what else could they do, and that isn't what he wants.
He presses his hands forward against the other man's warm chest, not considering Shōyō's heels as the sturdiness of the wall at the redhead's back strikes a solid contrast to his own spindly insubstantiality. His head is hazy with an overload of intense but broad awareness; he can feel his blood, he can see bright shimmering pinpricks when he closes his eyes, Shōyō tastes sweet and human all at the same time. Everything his mind is overwhelmed to keep track of is something his body has pared down to simplicity and purpose, however, and at Shōyō's half-formed and nudging guidance, he's nodding before he's processed it.]
Right...!
[As though he'll have the first idea what to do when they're on it. There's possessing a mechanical knowledge of how that goes, while also being riddled with anxieties over what might stop or complicate it. At the heart of it is the simple fact that L has never done this before, which is unusual for a man in his mid-twenties. However natural it seems, the potential to screw it all up seems enormous and heavy as their legs bump irregularly against the edge of the mattress and L is half-climbing and half-falling gracelessly onto it, half-pulling and half-pushing Shōyō along with him and unintentionally digging into some part of his partner with his knee when he comes down half-on-top.
That felt like it probably hurt; he hopes that it didn't. Kisses will make it better, hopefully? He pushes their faces together again, a flourish to distract from an error, starting to undo the buttons of Shōyō's shirt. Shōyō had seemed to really like being touched underneath it, and ultimately it's just in the way, with that frame of mind.]