I'm not, [ Arel replies between kisses, finding himself suddenly hungry - not for food, either, but for Janus, just for Janus. He kisses them with that hunger bubbling in his belly, pushing him to hold onto their hair and angle the kiss, pushing him to dip his tongue inside their mouth, pushing him to touch, touch, touch, feeling starved for it.
His hips roll up into Janus', groaning into their mouth, his brain suddenly gone blank of anything else than his need for Janus. His free hand slides down along their back, to their arse, squeezing lightly when it reaches its destination. He pulls away from the kiss with a wet sound and a harsh breath, his lungs on fire. ]
[janus kisses him. their heart feels so full that it hurts, which is different to how it is when they kiss zeke or ty, or think of others maybe later. neither experience nor imagination have been large enough to contain even the faintest possibility of kisses like this. janus thinks about dying lots, for a sixteen-year-old, but they've never before felt like they could die here, now, and be happy.
i love you, they think but don't say. they don't want to spoil this with sad and broken promises. so they grind up their hips against him, thighs open to accommodate the shapes of both cocks meeting through their trousers. their bottom is pert in his hands, and manages not to seem too flustered about it. janus touch him how they think he'll like, tracing their blunt nails lightly along his inner-arms, his ribs, violining an uneven rhythm along his beautiful skin and perfectly formed nerve endings. syncopated to the kisses janus places on his face.]
I think I want you more than you want you want me. We can make it a competition. I like competitions.
[ Arel frowns, his free hand tracing the features of Janus' face; sharp cheekbones, jutting jawline, soft lips, a nose that looks like it should have been broken a number of times. Inquisitive eyes. Perfectly arched brows. Creases on his forehead. ]
Let's not. It shouldn't be. A competition, I mean. It's more like... A team thing. We're a team. We work together, towards the shared goal of mutual orgasms. Yeah?
[ Love is sure a competition outside of this; this tiny bubble they've created right now. Outside of it, people compete for attention, try to prove themselves as the most lovable, the best lovers, the most entertaining friends. A constant competition for time and attention. Arel only gets ahead sometimes due to his body; a body he didn't even choose.
Sometimes, he feels like he's barely his own person. ]
[if janus could hear the sad, soft babble of arel-thoughts, they would be sad. well-- shock and anger and realization aside&mash; they would be sad. but here it's quiet and arel's face (yes, handsome) disguises the chilly stream of consciousness, his dark memory and bad habit and immovable misfortune. janus has always assumed that arel runs from his fire dreams into such distractions as sex and working out, because that seems like what humans do. but they haven't ever imagined how temporary or uncomfortable those sanctuaries are.
from the outside, arel's life seems easy these days. no fires. emily, amnestic but still— emily. a bright future and desirable body. in no particular order of importance.]
Okay, okay. I'm afraid if I keep talking, I'll say the wrong thing again, [janus says. they place a kiss on arel right between his eyes. but they mean it. they give up the competition for now, their obsession with being better than they were, better than anyone else, the best.] I like working with you. Whether it's essay theses or-- um. Sexual matters. Whatever-- um, makes you smile.
[ Maybe this is what Arel should have expected, when he asked Janus on a date. A proper date, with food and romance and privacy; maybe he should have known. He should have known that they would slip into something like this, intimacy between moments fueled by adrenaline and hormones, words whispered like they didn't mean much, when they meant everything.
Arel looks at Janus, brushes his fingers through their hair, down along their temple, a tangle of feelings stuck in his throat as his eyes travel all over their face. ]
[kissing arel is one of janus' favorite times of day. it's different to all their other favorites too. just like they said out loud just now, even if it'd never occurred to them before in those terms— this isn't for once about proving themself, of excelling, of beating their opponent in competition. they close their eyes and lean into it, mouth open over his mouth, trying to be tender the way they have imagined he likes with charlie and the girls, but clear and strong the way they have imagined he likes with girls, but after a point they forget themself and they are just kissing arel, as janus, a little bit messy, a little bit giddy, til they have to stop and pull their head up and touch the corner of their mouth apologetically.
drooling again. a technical error. >:{
but next thing you know, their shirt is off, tossed over on the foor to deflate gently on the white blanket. and they're kissing arel some more, less wetly this time, optimistically trying to finger the studded shapes of his nipples through the fabric of his shirt, their meager weight rubbing a rhythm against the wizard's sex, through his trousersa.]
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His hips roll up into Janus', groaning into their mouth, his brain suddenly gone blank of anything else than his need for Janus. His free hand slides down along their back, to their arse, squeezing lightly when it reaches its destination. He pulls away from the kiss with a wet sound and a harsh breath, his lungs on fire. ]
I'm just being honest. And, fuck, do I want you.
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i love you, they think but don't say. they don't want to spoil this with sad and broken promises. so they grind up their hips against him, thighs open to accommodate the shapes of both cocks meeting through their trousers. their bottom is pert in his hands, and manages not to seem too flustered about it. janus touch him how they think he'll like, tracing their blunt nails lightly along his inner-arms, his ribs, violining an uneven rhythm along his beautiful skin and perfectly formed nerve endings. syncopated to the kisses janus places on his face.]
I think I want you more than you want you want me. We can make it a competition. I like competitions.
no subject
Let's not. It shouldn't be. A competition, I mean. It's more like... A team thing. We're a team. We work together, towards the shared goal of mutual orgasms. Yeah?
[ Love is sure a competition outside of this; this tiny bubble they've created right now. Outside of it, people compete for attention, try to prove themselves as the most lovable, the best lovers, the most entertaining friends. A constant competition for time and attention. Arel only gets ahead sometimes due to his body; a body he didn't even choose.
Sometimes, he feels like he's barely his own person. ]
There's enough competition in the world, Janus.
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from the outside, arel's life seems easy these days. no fires. emily, amnestic but still— emily. a bright future and desirable body. in no particular order of importance.]
Okay, okay. I'm afraid if I keep talking, I'll say the wrong thing again, [janus says. they place a kiss on arel right between his eyes. but they mean it. they give up the competition for now, their obsession with being better than they were, better than anyone else, the best.] I like working with you. Whether it's essay theses or-- um. Sexual matters. Whatever-- um, makes you smile.
no subject
Arel looks at Janus, brushes his fingers through their hair, down along their temple, a tangle of feelings stuck in his throat as his eyes travel all over their face. ]
You. You make me smile. [ It sounds stupid and cliché - a cheesy line even for Arel, who wears this kind of cheesiness on his sleeve unashamedly. But the situation right now feels too big for him, like he doesn't know how to deal with it, hasn't been prepared for it. So instead of saying anything else, he uses his hand on the side of Janus' face to pull them down into another kiss, trying to convey what couldn't be said. ]
no subject
drooling again. a technical error. >:{
but next thing you know, their shirt is off, tossed over on the foor to deflate gently on the white blanket. and they're kissing arel some more, less wetly this time, optimistically trying to finger the studded shapes of his nipples through the fabric of his shirt, their meager weight rubbing a rhythm against the wizard's sex, through his trousersa.]