[Estinien, on the other hand, is inexperienced--though he's making up for that in enthusiasm. He lets Aymeric pull away, though, because as much as he'd rather demonstrate how he feels, he knows it's important for Aymeric to talk.]
Good. I would hate to be misinterpreted.
[He does smooth Aymeric's shirt back down, though it is probably unfortunately still a bit wrinkled. Oops.]
[It's an odd reversal, Estinien being the one to fret and fuss. He lets the attempt to smoothe his shirt carry on for a few seconds, before finally laying his hands over Estinien's. Even in that brief moment, where their hands had pressed together, his mind had begun to run away with countless different fantasies. Of how those hands might feel against his face. Or perhaps --
He lifts one up, pressing a gentle kiss to the palm, then flips it over to do the same on the opposite side. Even these small points of contact feel right.]
[It's only this once and it's only because he knows Aymeric will give him grief about the wrinkles.
Well. Partially about that. Now that everything is out in the open so to speak--and Aymeric has asked 'what now', he realizes that he truly doesn't know. He'd barely begun to think about any sort of attraction to others when he was a child before the destruction of Ferndale--and then his only interest had been the pursuit of strength, his quest to become the Azure. By the time his age group was pursuing the sorts of interpersonal relationships rife in the ranks of the Temple Knights, he'd developed such a fearsome reputation that no one was interested in approaching him for any kind of tryst, not that he would have welcomed such advances. He's completely adrift.
(Well. There are half-recalled memories that weren't his, but he and Aymeric certainly weren't going to be engaging in any sort of courtship flights.)
Despite having just initiated things, so to speak, there's something more fearfully intimate about Aymeric kissing his hand, on top of realizing that he doesn't know how to answer that question, and he blushes bright red.]
[There's something about that flush that's positively endearing. A part of him wants to take Estinien's face into his hands once more, press kisses to those flushed cheeks and draw it out further. His fingers twitch, tips itching with the desire, but he bites it down. Instead, he presses one hand hand into his lap, glancing to the side even as the tips of his own ears warm. The other remains firmly fastened to Estinien's.
For now, he offers a reassuring smile, shaking his head even as he does.]
Mayhap that is a good thing. 'Tis better to stumble together, would you not agree?
[His thumb swoops over the spot he had only just kissed. He can practically feel his heart in his throat, and though it all seems so juvenile, he doesn't dislike it.]
[Halone, if that doesn't awaken something horrendously embarrassing within him. He closes his eyes, feeling a wash of heat spread over his features. Save him, please.]
I... suppose we do not.
[Not that they haven't shared beds before, of course. And even now, it wouldn't be the first time they woke wrapped up in one another. But there's something entirely different about doing so with intent.]
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Good. I would hate to be misinterpreted.
[He does smooth Aymeric's shirt back down, though it is probably unfortunately still a bit wrinkled. Oops.]
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He lifts one up, pressing a gentle kiss to the palm, then flips it over to do the same on the opposite side. Even these small points of contact feel right.]
I suppose it should be asked, though. What now?
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Well. Partially about that. Now that everything is out in the open so to speak--and Aymeric has asked 'what now', he realizes that he truly doesn't know. He'd barely begun to think about any sort of attraction to others when he was a child before the destruction of Ferndale--and then his only interest had been the pursuit of strength, his quest to become the Azure. By the time his age group was pursuing the sorts of interpersonal relationships rife in the ranks of the Temple Knights, he'd developed such a fearsome reputation that no one was interested in approaching him for any kind of tryst, not that he would have welcomed such advances. He's completely adrift.
(Well. There are half-recalled memories that weren't his, but he and Aymeric certainly weren't going to be engaging in any sort of courtship flights.)
Despite having just initiated things, so to speak, there's something more fearfully intimate about Aymeric kissing his hand, on top of realizing that he doesn't know how to answer that question, and he blushes bright red.]
To be honest? I've no swiving clue.
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For now, he offers a reassuring smile, shaking his head even as he does.]
Mayhap that is a good thing. 'Tis better to stumble together, would you not agree?
[His thumb swoops over the spot he had only just kissed. He can practically feel his heart in his throat, and though it all seems so juvenile, he doesn't dislike it.]
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He nods, relieved that seems to be the end of it--of that question at least.]
Little needs to change.
...save that I suppose we no longer need request a room with two beds.
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I... suppose we do not.
[Not that they haven't shared beds before, of course. And even now, it wouldn't be the first time they woke wrapped up in one another. But there's something entirely different about doing so with intent.]
I shall do my best not to kick while I slumber.