[Now, that laugh is worth more than a thousand coins, he knows.]
[Steinbeck may not be a man of the water (not like Lovecraft, who practically melted into it, lived in it, thrived in its depths) but he finds he takes to the flow of it all well enough. He doesn't flinch or resist as Kaspar pulls into him, simply extending his arms to give the other room as the flow pulls them together. The man is warm against him, and he doesn't even hesitate to embrace him in turn, leaning his chin against the top of the other's head, buried in curls.]
[If there's anything that Steinbeck would say he's good at, perhaps, its things like this. He was the big brother in his family, after all, ready to provide a hug or two when needed. Kaspar isn't a sibling, of course, but the warmth he has for the man is more sincere than anything, and he's more than happy to keep him here in his arms for as long as he wants. His heart (as much as he wants to ignore he has one, too wrapped up in his own self-hatred) beats steady. His hand moves to tangle within the other's hair before he slides it down in a soothing pet, over and over.]
If you want to talk, you can. If you don't, that's fine, too. [A pause, closing his eyes.] Whatever you want.
[ Kaspar is all warmth and relaxing muscle, breathing softly now that he's had time. All his efforts styling his hair undone, the scent of flowers lingers faint as watercolors. Now that his lungs no longer remember the burn, just the soothingly warm humid air he draws off Steinbeck's skin, his throat relaxes. River, earth, and something all his own.
His own body can't remember the last time someone held him like this. He must've been a child. None of his older brothers would've shown him such grace in perceived weakness. No, these rare moments were better spent alone.
But, just this once. Just this once.
The words, at first, only have him nuzzling closer, tightening his arms as if his gratitude might seep between them. A mending for the wounds caused passing thorns between skin. He inhales, opening his mouth. All that comes is a pitiful puff of air.
What does he want? It takes more silence, more gentle idle touches.
Calm, calm, like the river, accepting and circling his feelings. Picking at it, starting with the farthest vine. ]
[As much as Kaspar is using him as a rock in all of this, a warmth to rest his weary head on, Steinbeck can't help but feel that he's doing the same in return. He may not give words to it, but perhaps its evident in the way his fingers dip under the water to trace along the man's spine, up and down, a soothing motion as his eyelids flutter.]
[He waits. He's patient like that. You have to be, in the world of nature. Sprouts usually don't come up overnight. So when he finally hears that question, his mouth quirks up in a smile, a thumb tracing a circle to interrupt its back and forth journey.]
Me? A few times. [A light shrug along with the words.] Never went farther as far as the romance side of things. Even went on one here, but that was more to get to know the guy than anything too serious.
[He watches the river water flow around them, cupping their bodies. Despite their nakedness, it almost feels like a blanket keeping them snuggled together.]
... I was never able to choose, before. There were rules, consequences.
[ The touch has his back arching slightly, pressing close to Steinbeck with a soft sigh. He shifts to plant a kiss to his heart. It's chaste, though his lips linger for a beat.
He tries to be honest. ]
I wondered, what this one might be like. With him, with you.
[ Almost too quiet, mouthed idly against his heart as if it may have the answers for his own, he all but whispers after that. Lips soft, they're still wet as the skin they graze. ]
But I fear, I've no clue what I'm doing.
[ The graze of teeth, biting gently over the nearest scar. ]
[That certainly explains some things. He finds himself recalling Van Ziek's own flustered responses to his teasing, clarifying it in his own way. It seems Kaspar has had to deal with such things too - Steinbeck lets out a low sigh. A world like that, where you can't even pursue what you want without being knocked down for it...]
[He lets out a low noise at the kiss, before returning it with a brush of lips against the top of the other's head.]
That's alright. [He says, after a pause, his own voice as low as the sound of the bubbling water around them. He shifts his hand to feel over that burn on the other's hip, rough to touch even under the water, but his stroke is gentle. Van Zieks, huh? He doesn't know how to feel about it, but...] Anyone who says they have a clue is lying. You just have to go through it. See how it works with any person you do it with.
[A light shiver passes through him with the bite.]
[ The touch to his hip is a jolt of life, a stirring in the pit of his stomach. He almost squirms at the touch to the slope of his burn, drawing his hips towards the touch of Steinbeck's fingers as if pulled by an invisible lead.
Kaspar's tone picks up, from the affection and the words, lightening to ghost over Steinbeck's chest. The easy acceptance, a temporary salve for indecisiveness. One that warms his face, his eyes, his smile. The gift of understanding between them. As transparent as fluid as the river. ]
... I did bid on the one, that sounded like you.
[ But he doesn't ask for reassurances. Steinbeck's advice is taken and applied in the tender moment. The shift in his demeanor is as sudden as the look in his eyes and as subtle as a tell in a fight, the tensing of a muscle. Light grey in daylight, his eyes are cloudy fondness beneath clear skies, unlike the kinship with stars they have in the dark.
Kaspar leans back only to try and gently, playfully tug Steinbeck down to his level by his hips; to chase the other man's lips and gently press a heated thigh between his. Letting the water flow between the gaps of bare skin, the river's caresses. ]
[It really is summer. There's something so sweet about this, like taking a bite into a delicious peach, and letting the juices cool the skin warmed by a lazy sun. Steinbeck doesn't want to let it go. Doesn't want to let Kaspar go. He is a bit greedy, after all. In the end, though, there's something new and exciting about the thought about someone being greedy for him.]
[Kaspar breathes out that sentence, and Steinbeck lets out a little hiccup of a laugh.]
You already know me so well. [And his own blue eyes, bright as anything and reflecting the current, moving somewhere, anywhere, to carve out a route through wet soil, pore into Kaspar's grey ones.] You got me.
[He hates to think of himself as an object. He experienced that for too long, after all. But for here, for now, he'll make a concession. Be a prize, wrapped up with a bow. Perhaps its nice to be someone the man can enjoy, however he wants.]
[He returns the kiss, letting a noise out of his chest into the other's mouth at the movement down below - he shifts his own legs, the hand at the other's hip tracing back to cup the swell of his ass.]
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ninetydegrees
no subject
2023-01-30 23:20 (UTC)[Steinbeck may not be a man of the water (not like Lovecraft, who practically melted into it, lived in it, thrived in its depths) but he finds he takes to the flow of it all well enough. He doesn't flinch or resist as Kaspar pulls into him, simply extending his arms to give the other room as the flow pulls them together. The man is warm against him, and he doesn't even hesitate to embrace him in turn, leaning his chin against the top of the other's head, buried in curls.]
[If there's anything that Steinbeck would say he's good at, perhaps, its things like this. He was the big brother in his family, after all, ready to provide a hug or two when needed. Kaspar isn't a sibling, of course, but the warmth he has for the man is more sincere than anything, and he's more than happy to keep him here in his arms for as long as he wants. His heart (as much as he wants to ignore he has one, too wrapped up in his own self-hatred) beats steady. His hand moves to tangle within the other's hair before he slides it down in a soothing pet, over and over.]
If you want to talk, you can. If you don't, that's fine, too. [A pause, closing his eyes.] Whatever you want.
no subject
2023-01-31 10:17 (UTC)His own body can't remember the last time someone held him like this. He must've been a child. None of his older brothers would've shown him such grace in perceived weakness. No, these rare moments were better spent alone.
But, just this once. Just this once.
The words, at first, only have him nuzzling closer, tightening his arms as if his gratitude might seep between them. A mending for the wounds caused passing thorns between skin. He inhales, opening his mouth. All that comes is a pitiful puff of air.
What does he want? It takes more silence, more gentle idle touches.
Calm, calm, like the river, accepting and circling his feelings. Picking at it, starting with the farthest vine. ]
... have you ever been on a date?
no subject
2023-02-01 05:14 (UTC)[He waits. He's patient like that. You have to be, in the world of nature. Sprouts usually don't come up overnight. So when he finally hears that question, his mouth quirks up in a smile, a thumb tracing a circle to interrupt its back and forth journey.]
Me? A few times. [A light shrug along with the words.] Never went farther as far as the romance side of things. Even went on one here, but that was more to get to know the guy than anything too serious.
[He watches the river water flow around them, cupping their bodies. Despite their nakedness, it almost feels like a blanket keeping them snuggled together.]
You?
no subject
2023-02-01 06:30 (UTC)[ The touch has his back arching slightly, pressing close to Steinbeck with a soft sigh. He shifts to plant a kiss to his heart. It's chaste, though his lips linger for a beat.
He tries to be honest. ]
I wondered, what this one might be like. With him, with you.
[ Almost too quiet, mouthed idly against his heart as if it may have the answers for his own, he all but whispers after that. Lips soft, they're still wet as the skin they graze. ]
But I fear, I've no clue what I'm doing.
[ The graze of teeth, biting gently over the nearest scar. ]
no subject
2023-02-01 15:06 (UTC)[He lets out a low noise at the kiss, before returning it with a brush of lips against the top of the other's head.]
That's alright. [He says, after a pause, his own voice as low as the sound of the bubbling water around them. He shifts his hand to feel over that burn on the other's hip, rough to touch even under the water, but his stroke is gentle. Van Zieks, huh? He doesn't know how to feel about it, but...] Anyone who says they have a clue is lying. You just have to go through it. See how it works with any person you do it with.
[A light shiver passes through him with the bite.]
You shouldn't wonder. If you want it, go for it.
I never hit post :D;
2023-02-01 22:34 (UTC)Kaspar's tone picks up, from the affection and the words, lightening to ghost over Steinbeck's chest. The easy acceptance, a temporary salve for indecisiveness. One that warms his face, his eyes, his smile. The gift of understanding between them. As transparent as fluid as the river. ]
... I did bid on the one, that sounded like you.
[ But he doesn't ask for reassurances. Steinbeck's advice is taken and applied in the tender moment. The shift in his demeanor is as sudden as the look in his eyes and as subtle as a tell in a fight, the tensing of a muscle. Light grey in daylight, his eyes are cloudy fondness beneath clear skies, unlike the kinship with stars they have in the dark.
Kaspar leans back only to try and gently, playfully tug Steinbeck down to his level by his hips; to chase the other man's lips and gently press a heated thigh between his. Letting the water flow between the gaps of bare skin, the river's caresses. ]
no subject
2023-02-05 23:31 (UTC)[Kaspar breathes out that sentence, and Steinbeck lets out a little hiccup of a laugh.]
You already know me so well. [And his own blue eyes, bright as anything and reflecting the current, moving somewhere, anywhere, to carve out a route through wet soil, pore into Kaspar's grey ones.] You got me.
[He hates to think of himself as an object. He experienced that for too long, after all. But for here, for now, he'll make a concession. Be a prize, wrapped up with a bow. Perhaps its nice to be someone the man can enjoy, however he wants.]
[He returns the kiss, letting a noise out of his chest into the other's mouth at the movement down below - he shifts his own legs, the hand at the other's hip tracing back to cup the swell of his ass.]
[What a lovely peach, indeed.]