âDream. Ah. If it were his dream. And all of a sudden, he feels guilty and dirty again, actually hoping for something like that to happen. Maybe he wouldnât even like it as much if it really happened. Maybe it was just the dream making it hotter.
But. Better things to focus on. Like Felixâs lips on his, which he immediately gets in on, hand threading through the manâs hair as the other presses them together, close and heated with honestly too many pieces of clothing on. âI know you wanted to cuddle, butâŚâ Itâs. Silly to ask, he should just let Felix guide them. But. âCould we maybe⌠do something else in bed?â The smoothest. Most suave. Absolute casanova.
Felix isnât the best with this stuff. ⌠Thatâs it, thatâs all there is to say about that.
And thenâ Oh. Well if that doesnât make Felixâs face heat up a bit more. And then also. Yeah. The awkwardness is almost just. Heâs used to it by now, and he knows what Locus means anyways, so. Eh. Doesnât bother him. ââAh. Absolutely.â He probably couldnât sound anymore excited there, wow. Oops.
And then his fingers are already inching underneath the otherâs shirt. Incredible.
He grins, setting aside thoughts about the dream when there are far more appealing subjects at hand. He pulls his shirt off at the inquisitive fingers, before his hands are back where they were and holding Felix against him.
Then he pushes up at Felix's shirt, hands roaming over his skin as he moves them more onto the bed, always kissing him. Except. When he can't, like when he took his shirt off. But. He can now, and he's doing it pretty passionately.
