“Hold still, Del.” The words were mumbled, warm breath spilling onto fervent skin. Juno’s brows were creased, their hands making the slightest gestures over Delsin’s bare bicep as bright teal lines appeared on his skin. His threadbare Sin & Tonic shirt was pulled up over his arm, nestled against the portion of his neck where his hair usually brushed against. He had it up in a messy sort of bun, something that Juno had taught him for the days when Seattle warmed up to an uncomfortable temperature. It gave Juno all the space they needed to work. And work they did. It was a stunning contrast of color and linework, Delsin mused, watching the way strands of hair fell over the paint conduit’s face, concentration in the form of laser focused eyes and the pink tip of a tongue sticking out between soft lips. He gazed softly like this for minutes at a time, knowing that with this level of focus, he was safe from a sudden tease at his expense were they to suddenly catch his gaze. This was why he liked them so much, they were passionate about life and creative beyond anyone he’d ever met before, but also unafraid to give him hell with the evilest (and, honestly, hottest) of grins.
A satisfied “hah” breaks Delsin from his focus, and he looks down to the area on his arm that was, as of thirty minutes ago, a blank space. Intricate lines of teal and black flowed over his skin, across his collarbone, playing along like liquid smoke. He wasn’t completely convinced that it wasn’t moving, flowing like water. “Holy shit, Juno, it’s incredible!” His eyes roam, and his hand moves towards the design. Then, looking back up to Juno, raising his brows to ask “can I?”, and upon receiving a confirming, pleased nod, runs his fingertips along the design, taking it in. It lacked any of the pain from a normal tattoo. “I wanted to convey that fluid sense of motion that follows in your trail when you zoom away,” Juno explains, absently trailing their fingers along Delsin’s shoulder, following the pigmented path. “And of course, I wanted it to play well with your eagle tattoo.” This is said with a satisfied grin, their pale blue eyes twinkling with pride.
They’re too busy checking over their work to notice the way Delsin’s skin prickles under their touch, the way his breathing sharpens. Or maybe something small within them knows, filling their body with a warmth akin to a bonfire on a moonlit night, shared blankets over bodies pining to make contact. For more. So much more. Juno glances up at Delsin, their breath catching at the intensity in his eyes, his hot, shallow breath hitting their skin.
“Oh.”
Mind blank. Words fail.
Only his dark, hungering eyes, the way he’s leaning into their space, ever so slightly, their fingers still on his hot, burning skin.
“Juno.”
He says it, straining, daring them to resist the very thing their body is pleading with them to do. He knows it, can read it on their face, how much they need it, need him.
Anyone that were to stumble upon the two would realize immediately the thoughts going through the conduit pair’s minds, and would, just as quickly, leaving the two with their private moment. But for now, neither of them make a move, the distance holding, then growing. Bashful, reddening expressions as they avoid the other’s eyes. The what ifs hold them back, the hesitation of the unknown. Maybe someday. Just not today.
