[he presses in, chest to ribcage, and rides his orgasm out, stroking his thighs as he trembles. one arm returns to curl under his shoulders, the backs of his fingers stroking his beard.]
[those two words serve as a bucket of ice water. his lack of musculature would hide that from almost anybody, but the Captain knows him on a practically atomic level. the split-second of stillness might be all the tell he needs, but it's accompanied by a more obvious moment of silence.]
[he can imagine. it wasn't so terribly long ago that he'd shared his sympathies with the Captain's desire to hurt the people who brought him to these extremes, before either of them even knew what that truly meant.
he spends a few short moments feeling the coarseness of his beard, the line of his jaw.]
[you'd think that after decades -- centuries -- of China Sorrows toying with him, the concept of 'love at first sight' would have lost all meaning, but the admission knocks the proverbial breath out of him.
he gets the first syllable out of a joke that proves to be a non-starter, then tries again.]
The way I butchered that song was fairly endearing...
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I love you. I love you... [a shaky breath] Please. Survive.
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...It's going to be that bad, hm?
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he spends a few short moments feeling the coarseness of his beard, the line of his jaw.]
I'll win you over as many times as it takes.
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You are rather good at it. "At first sight" is quite the record to beat.
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he gets the first syllable out of a joke that proves to be a non-starter, then tries again.]
The way I butchered that song was fairly endearing...