ofshiftings:
There was a pull there that had reached far beyond the hands of magic, that had more force than the bond that had once held them together. It was magnetic in a different way, explosive in the sense that it made it hard to not allow yourself to be entirely consumed. In that kiss, was the secret, the reason why some people walked so willingly into flames, knowing they were going to burn. If death was promised to feel like this, if anything after was promised to feel like this, it would have been worth it. The intensity of his emotions rarely faltered, it was rarely tested, but every time he touched Jasper a new passion was born.
It didn’t matter the kind of touch, either. It could have been something simple, a finger tracing the line of his lips so that he knew exactly what his smile felt like, or it could be dangerous; deviant. It could be what touch would make those same lips part, forcing the witch to find his voice in the most beautifully seductive chorus of moans, or even what it was like to hold him right at the edge and make him beg to be pushed off. Whatever it was, it would never matter. They were all his favorite flavor, Jasper was a sort of flawed perfection that could, should, and would be worshiped in the most wicked of ways.
Even the way he stopped, took just a moment to allow that smile to take hold, it spoke volumes. It screamed all the things that neither of them knew how to say yet, perhaps foreign languages that would finally tell all their secrets. It served to endear him to the moment, the tiniest slip in the sensation to appreciate how truly, absolutely beautiful he was. It was a shame, a true crime - all the people, all the things that had ever made him feel so ugly. Maybe that was why Aidan was so entirely steadfast in giving whatever he could of that, back to him.
Before he could allow lips to be claimed again, head dipped so that they could instead be pressed close to the shell of his ear. A moment, a breath taken, single heart beat appreciated in relative silence before speaking. “I have seen thousands of years of beautiful things, of things that are still talked about for the sheer power in that appeal, and not a single fucking one of them compares to that smile.”
Maybe he was being faux poetic, because this was hardly his norm. He’d never spoken quite such a soft affection into existence, never cared enough to devote his energy to words that were as awe inspiring as his artwork. He painted, he used the canvas to speak for him when words just wouldn’t really suffice but now, with him, they were found so easily. He huffs a brief laugh, before they are cutting each other off with another kiss.
He makes certain that Jasper cannot argue, can’t protest, can’t even agree with the way that lips make such a demand. Smaller frame is easily manipulated, allowing his larger one to rest carefully under him, to make sure he feels the weight but doesn’t suffer from it.
He had grown used to the intensity of Aidan's presence, anyone who spent time around him could not mistake how sharp the edges were and how unfaltering. It had been more baffling than intimidating even from the start, which said volumes given how easy it was for Jasper to feel overwhelmed around other people. All of that felt normal though, anymore, and he spent his time searching for the subtle nods to other emotions, things not said, communication lay in more than a single layer when it came to Aidan. It kept him busy, kept him watching and curious, but mostly it kept Jasper enthralled.
Maybe it was just Aidan, faults and flaws, choices and the bizarre things that fell to chance. If it was chance alone that had brought him to the right spot and the right moment to step back into the life of someone he'd had little idea had always shared his own in that distant way Jasper would have far more willingly allowed himself to believe that there was a balance in the world that brought not just hardship but also the best things with it. It was difficult to argue just how good those things could be when the most unexpected of them was quite literally sharing the lack of space between them, staring him in the eyes and making his knees feel embarrassingly weak.
The words were not fair though, perhaps also not fully believed in spite of wanting to, but something not only to them but the tone of Aidan's voice when he spoke curled electricity along Jasper's nerves like tiny pins and needles. He wouldn't have known what to say in reply so he was grateful not to have to, with how perceptive the other man was in reading him and knowing where he fell short he knew it wasn't by chance. Again the dim lights did a fair enough job of hiding the hints of blush to his skin, at that point he felt that if not for that it would have been painfully obvious. As though it weren't anyway with the way his fingers flexed and gripped at what had almost instantly become one of his favorite spots at the back of Aidan's neck and flush to heated skin. Favorite so far at least, likely he would find plenty of others along the way.
He had to blink away some of the thoughts, not surprised but not expecting Aidan to stir his emotions with only a few words. He'd never heard encouragement from him that wasn't to the point and more unwavering, as much as he's come to awkwardly appreciate that effort it can't compare to the softer tones and the feeling of being wanted that comes with it. Desire already had him casting an expectant gaze that lingered, he might have faltered in finding whatever stumbled words he can't reach but his expression was open and unguarded, a breathless sort of eagerness hinted there.
He lost some sense of balance amid it all but it doesn't matter, there's a distinct pleasure to that weight and Jasper forgets how to think again, so very aware of how easy it is to surrender to even that nudge of direction. He doesn’t debate it, something just clicks together naturally in that subtle surrender of control. Partly reflex and half intention, his hands abandon safer places and a shift of motion still has him wanting to be closer, he's happy to let Aidan keep his lips with that kiss but that's clearly only a tame echo of what he wants and somehow his fingers instinctively find the place where he knows a very certain scars marks him. Some deeply buried urge needs to feel it, compared to every other thing he's only increasingly more and more desperate to feel in that moment that becomes the most demanding and indulgent.



















