( like an insect, drawn towards the sweet smell, he lingers, steps forward, works himself towards the interior of the room like he can't let a certain amount of distance stretch between them; his possessive feelings aren't particularly unusual, given the way that he can easily sink towards obsession with certain things, but to be so blatant about it is new, and feels almost like the feelings tumble out of him before he can even think to pull them back. impatient, he swishes around the end of the bed, hands sliding down into his pockets like that might keep him from reaching out to touch esikko again.
the shirt gets a bemused look of dismay: it's not a bad shirt, but it's definitely something that he thinks esikko would like to see him in, more than he'd like to put on. )
Think about it. We get the ribbon, we fuck around with it, take a bath, order room service, fuck again...
( in a drawling tone, amused--but it isn't his birthday, and he really isn't going to deny esikko anything. in some ways, he thinks that going out might be better, if only because esikko will get the kind of attention he deserves, on a special day, from the staff.
--that, of course, does bother him a little, eyes narrowing at the thought, but he tries to push it down. instead, as he pries out a hand to point, playfully, at the bed: )
So am I wearing just a shirt, now? Where's the bottom part?
( Already, standing at the wardrobe like this was beginning to be a struggle. Dabi isn't loud behind him or anything, but he feels hyper aware of him there, the soft padding of his footsteps, the shift of cloth moving from hands sliding into pockets. Esikko's hands linger on an article of clothing that he can't really pay attention to, and the more Dabi speaks, the further his attention drifts.
From the clothes. Not from Dabi.
Those last questions earn a breath that can almost be mistaken for annoyance, with the way it follows a click of his tongue. But he whirls on his feet, dragging his hands away from the slacks he'd been barely looking at to cross back towards the bed, towards Dabi. )
You— ( Drawing that out just a little, Esikko leans into his next steps, hands reaching out to fist into the front of Dabi's shirt. ) —are being so impatient.
( And he loves every minute of it, from how he's smiling. He ducks his head enough to press their lips together, chaste yet insistent, balling his fists tighter. ) So now you don't get to wear anything. Give me a pass to do this ( a nod at the shirt on the bed ) later, and take it all off.
( immediately, his hands go up, like a prisoner that's being accused of something terrible--palms spread, fingers splayed, a surrender as esikko reaches out to grip the front of his shirt. his lips spread into a grin, easily amused; his gaze draws down to find the same sort of smile on esikko's face.
still, he can't help but tease-- ) 'You~ Are being So~ Impatient~'
( it's high-pitched, absolutely not at all a proper imitation of esikko's voice, but it doesn't matter. that teasing is easily swallowed up by the kiss, a chaste little thing, enough that he chases it back again to kiss esikko one more time, lightly, before he draws back to let him speak.
his gaze goes towards the bed, to the shirt, and then back to esikko again, amused. )
You're making me go to dinner naked?
( another playful drawl, but he lets his hands fall, squeezing in at esikko's waist on either side. )
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the shirt gets a bemused look of dismay: it's not a bad shirt, but it's definitely something that he thinks esikko would like to see him in, more than he'd like to put on. )
Think about it. We get the ribbon, we fuck around with it, take a bath, order room service, fuck again...
( in a drawling tone, amused--but it isn't his birthday, and he really isn't going to deny esikko anything. in some ways, he thinks that going out might be better, if only because esikko will get the kind of attention he deserves, on a special day, from the staff.
--that, of course, does bother him a little, eyes narrowing at the thought, but he tries to push it down. instead, as he pries out a hand to point, playfully, at the bed: )
So am I wearing just a shirt, now? Where's the bottom part?
no subject
From the clothes. Not from Dabi.
Those last questions earn a breath that can almost be mistaken for annoyance, with the way it follows a click of his tongue. But he whirls on his feet, dragging his hands away from the slacks he'd been barely looking at to cross back towards the bed, towards Dabi. )
You— ( Drawing that out just a little, Esikko leans into his next steps, hands reaching out to fist into the front of Dabi's shirt. ) —are being so impatient.
( And he loves every minute of it, from how he's smiling. He ducks his head enough to press their lips together, chaste yet insistent, balling his fists tighter. ) So now you don't get to wear anything. Give me a pass to do this ( a nod at the shirt on the bed ) later, and take it all off.
( Demanding. )
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still, he can't help but tease-- ) 'You~ Are being So~ Impatient~'
( it's high-pitched, absolutely not at all a proper imitation of esikko's voice, but it doesn't matter. that teasing is easily swallowed up by the kiss, a chaste little thing, enough that he chases it back again to kiss esikko one more time, lightly, before he draws back to let him speak.
his gaze goes towards the bed, to the shirt, and then back to esikko again, amused. )
You're making me go to dinner naked?
( another playful drawl, but he lets his hands fall, squeezing in at esikko's waist on either side. )
I'm your doll tonight. You undress me.