@archerwhiterp
Continued from here.
It was an act of impulse to dare a first touch. The idea had manifested suddenly and Archer couldn't shake it. How nice it felt to have someone's finger's lovingly stroke through your hair. He was in the position to share that feeling with his gracious host. Doubt, worries, fears, desires, all clouded his thoughts. What if this was not the right moment for Lucio and he did not wish to be given affection? What if he desired demanded more? If Archer dared a single touch on his own free will and choice, would he be incidentally agreeing to things next to progress? He had to pinch his eyes shut to close out the overwhelm and focus on what he truly wanted. To touch Lucio. Nothing more. It could mean nothing more. Lucio wasn't greedy. So Archer gave in and gently stroked his hands through his hair as he stood over him. What a shift in agency and power. He was shamefully enjoying it, until he uttered that praise. Archer's fingers twitched and pulled back a moment. As if the realization of what he was doing suddenly came through. It was brief, and his want to continue prevailed. His cheeks felt warm and flush. He liked how he said such nice things to him. "You are... so silky."
For a moment, Lucio was worried the praise didn't go over well. With the way Archer's hands pulled back, Lucio would've whined in reluctance to have the touch leave him. Yet- hands return to their ministrations. And Lucio's form relaxes further into his seat on the couch. Legs crossed one over the other in front of him, fingers clasped on his belly as he breathes deeply, enjoying the sensation.
The content he feels radiates to Archer's hands.
'Silky'? His hair? Well.. yes he supposed it was. Though he'd never really given it too much thought except when trimming or dying it. Loose waves effortlessly glide around Archer's fingers.
"You think so? What high praise coming from you, since I think you're the softest."
The smallest of smirks curls the corners of his lips.
Archer's skin was soft, though... Lucio thinks he's much softer in other ways. In nature or disposition. How strange for something to remain so tender under such harsh conditions. Perhaps that's why Attigo liked him? Certainly Lucio saw the appeal.
"You won't hear any complaints out of me," He sighs, feeling himself growing heavier.
