[ Arthur's pushy in every sense of the word, but his paleness deceives how much he wants it. The other's flushed pink, tips of his ears red, and the moment he willingly follows the other, Meliorn cages him with one hand on either side of his arms to lean down and kiss at the lobe, surprisingly gentle despite his urgency. the aesthetic is simply breathtaking.
He's going to have to teach Arthur patience another time--and there will be another time if he has his say in this already. Meliorn moves his hand slowly down Arthur's chest, appreciative as they kiss once more.
He may or may not be drawing this out anyway, even has both of his hands move to Arthur's legs, pushing them his knees are bent and positioning his own body in between. ]
[ He knows he's pushy. And he knows it's a trait that's irritated people in the past, annoyed by how demanding he could be. How he was full throttle, all the time, without reservation.
(With partnerships, if they happened, they were aggravated that it felt like he couldn't take it easy, that he was just there for the sex and nothing else. Maybe they weren't so wrong; but this isn't that, not for him).
Mel slows things, goes soft on purpose and his breath hitches at the odd gentleness. Arthur's full of sharp edges, precision built, but he feels the shift in the space between them and he wants to meet it somehow. When he kisses back this time, it's less urgent and more passionate, enjoying it for what it is. Easily, he lets his knees drop open to accommodate Meliorn's step into his space, sighs at the warm press of his body.
After a moment, he shifts up onto the bed more, tugging the other along with him, kissing a line down his neck once he does. His hands slide down his shoulders and then his sides, nails scratching lightly along the skin. ]
[ It was only a matter of time, he supposes, though there's a semi detached part of his mind that's surprised Arthur seems to find him attractive. He'd pegged Arthur for the type of guy to like a more muscled look, more inherently masculine, but those nails tell him otherwise. It's enough to spur him on, hair falling to curtain his face as he kisses down the other's chest. Arthur is impatient, needing, and Meliorn wants nothing more than to drag this out as long as possible because of this. ]
[ It's a bit of an odd angle to watch Meliorn from, but he tips his chin down anyway, gaze intent as the other works his way down his chest, the waves of his hair skimming across his skin. Arthur squirms under the contact, letting out a moan that's more of a content sigh. Taking it slow is– well, it's not what he usually does, but if this is what the fae wants, he'll allow it.
Reaching out, he traces the shell of Mel's ear, following the line of it to the scar on the one side of his face. His fingertips linger there, just on the crest of his cheekbone, memorizing the feel. ]
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He's going to have to teach Arthur patience another time--and there will be another time if he has his say in this already. Meliorn moves his hand slowly down Arthur's chest, appreciative as they kiss once more.
He may or may not be drawing this out anyway, even has both of his hands move to Arthur's legs, pushing them his knees are bent and positioning his own body in between. ]
no subject
(With partnerships, if they happened, they were aggravated that it felt like he couldn't take it easy, that he was just there for the sex and nothing else. Maybe they weren't so wrong; but this isn't that, not for him).
Mel slows things, goes soft on purpose and his breath hitches at the odd gentleness. Arthur's full of sharp edges, precision built, but he feels the shift in the space between them and he wants to meet it somehow. When he kisses back this time, it's less urgent and more passionate, enjoying it for what it is. Easily, he lets his knees drop open to accommodate Meliorn's step into his space, sighs at the warm press of his body.
After a moment, he shifts up onto the bed more, tugging the other along with him, kissing a line down his neck once he does. His hands slide down his shoulders and then his sides, nails scratching lightly along the skin. ]
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no subject
Reaching out, he traces the shell of Mel's ear, following the line of it to the scar on the one side of his face. His fingertips linger there, just on the crest of his cheekbone, memorizing the feel. ]