..125 and shifty/tab? Thank youu :’))
intimacy prompts ( accepting! )
125. talking about each other’s bodies
Shifty’s got a patch of freckles across his shoulders, and a tiny dimple where his spine meets his tailbone. When Floyd presses on it, the muscles in his back shift, and they look like what the tectonic plates must have, ages ago, when the world was still finding its shape.
None of this is critical information, but Floyd notes it anyways. Every little thing — every scar, every birth mark, every part of Shifty not visible to the casual eye. They are Easter eggs hidden so well that only the luckiest hunter can find them; each time Floyd uncovers a new detail, a rush of pride overtakes him. His first instinct is to press his lips to the discovery, claiming it as his own... which is fine, when it’s a gash on Shifty’s knuckle from a rogue tree climbing incident, and harder when it’s a star-shaped mark just begins his ear, where Shifty is horrifically ticklish.
“No! No, sir, you better not be — Tab! Come on!”
The bed springs creak under Shifty’s weight. He bounces once, anxious, then nearly falls over backwards when Floyd lunges forward again. There’s nowhere for him to run, and Floyd’s determined; he’ll set his lips on that star if it’s the last thing he does.
“You’re being — mighty foolish right now —” Shifty scrambles backwards, and now there’s an entire bed between them. It doesn’t deter Floyd a bit. He stalks around the end of the bed, like a tiger with its prey cornered in a cave. Unless he plans to melt into the corner or scramble up a wall, Shifty’s caught. From the look in his wide eyes, he knows it. “And kinda terrifying. Can’t we just —“
“I’ve got you!” Floyd springs, launching himself into the air. He catches around Shifty’s shoulders, pulling him down even as the other man yelps.
Shifty’s fast, but Floyd’s just stronger. Once he gets on top of him, it’s impossible for him to squirm free again. Planting his knees on both sides of Shifty’s waist, Floyd braces his weight against the other man’s shoulders, pressing him into the ground. Shifty makes one aborted effort to buck him off, but Floyd only bares down harder. From there, all he can do is squirm. His face scrunches as he turns his head, desperately trying to conceal Tab’s prize from view.
“Hmm. Pretty smart,” Tab concedes, casually leaning in closer to inspect the side of Shifty’s face. “But if you hide one ear, y’know, you’re leaving the other one wide open for me...”
Shifty manages to gasp out a protest, but it’s too late. Tab presses his face into the sweet spot where his ear meets his jaw, and Shifty immediately spirals into a squirming, squealing mess. It’s his one weak point. Touch him anywhere else, be it his belly or throat, and Shifty’s completely unfazed. But once you get to that sensitive place, where no one else would think to target... Floyd was only lucky enough to discover it during a particularly heated “body exploring” session, and its yet another one of those prizes he treasures so dearly from his lover.
“Stop, stopstopstohhgod, Floyd —“
“I love it when you say my name,” Floyd croons, letting up. Shifty heaves several ragged breaths, fighting to compose himself. When he looks back up at Tab, indignation has mingled with something almost fond.
“Was that enough fun for you?”
“Plenty fun,” Floyd admits, “but still not quite what I wanted.”
Shifty huffs, ruffling the uncombed hairs which have fallen across Floyd’s forehead. “For heaven’s sake,” he sighs. “If I let you kiss it, will you get off me already?”
“You drive a hard bargain.”
“You’re giving me a hard time,” Shifty retorts — and finally turns his head. “Now take what you came for and get.”
It’s all the invitation Floyd needs. He kisses the birthmark with enthusiasm, drawing another gasp of laughter from Shifty. When he finally rolls off of his lover, he’s grinning so hard that it his entire face aches. Shifty pushes himself off the ground, ruffled and disgruntled... but Shifty’s never cross for long, and certainly not about this game. They both play it, after all, with varying degrees of competitiveness. Floyd isn’t the only one with a map of birthmarks in his head.
“Next time you try a thing like that,” declares Shifty, hoisting himself off the ground, “I’m gonna go straight for the birthmark on the inside of your thigh.”
“I wouldn’t mind,” Floyd replies. Shifty ruffles his hair before he can say another word, and okay, Floyd deserved that.
“You’re going to be the death of me, Floyd Talbert.”
“I could say the same thing about you... and your incredible body.” What do the French call it? Something petit-mort? If Floyd has to die between Shifty Powers’ thighs, at least he’ll go out a happy man.
A bright flush flames on Shifty’s face, dying his cheekbones bright red. There’s another place Tab would love to kiss, if given the opportunity… but he’s not about to press his luck, not when Shifty’s irritation is fading into tolerance once more.
They’ve both got their favorite places to kiss, too. Tab knows he’s perfectly justified dreaming about Shifty’s defined lips, just as Shifty’s mouth is so often glued to his collarbone when they find themselves twined together. It may as well be magnetism. They learn more about each other every day, and each detail Floyd observed about Shifty — inside and out — only leaves him starving for more. He’d know every inch of this man if he were allowed; every old broken bone and half-healed bruise, every smile line, every freckle. When he runs his fingers over Shifty’s jaw, he can never help but be amazed by its definition. When Shifty strokes a hand over Floyd’s arms in bed, unashamedly appreciating the tight ligament and muscle, what thoughts must be running through his head?
Somehow, Floyd has a good idea. They both know each other so well by now. No more wasting time on second guessing.
“I only do it because you’re beautiful,” he declares. “You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever known… and prettier than plenty of gals, too. If you let me… I'd kiss every inch of you. Wouldn’t leave a speck of skin bare, even the most sensitive parts. Then you’d know…” He trails off, hand finding Shifty’s own and squeezing firmly. Shifty’s bashful haze is drawn back to him; Tab locks onto it, and holds on. “... exactly how I feel about you.”
“I’ve got an idea of that now,” Shifty mumbles.
“But no idea how gorgeous you are.”
“Not like you, Tab.” Shifty’s hand pulls away, and for a split-second, it’s absence aches like an open wound. Then he finds purchase on Floyd’s head, tangling his fingers through his messy hair, and that feels even better. Floyd leans into the touch. A smile tugs at Shifty’s lips, almost like it's reluctant to be seen.
“You know,” he says softly, fingers carding along Floyd’s scalp. “You’ve got a scar on the back of your neck. It’s one of those ones you can’t possibly see, but… I see it every time I look. It’s shaped like a Christmas tree cut down the middle.
“Barber accident,” Floyd says, not having to think hard to remember the incident. “Got a free haircut that day. And I even felt kind of sorry about it, considering I got blood all over his floor.”
Shifty chuckles again, and Floyd can’t help the way his grin returns full-force. He pushes himself to his feet, stepping forward to wrap his arms around Shifty’s waist. The other man melts into him, like two puzzle pieces that fit together perfectly.
“I never felt at all handsome ‘til I met you,” Shifty admits, murmuring the words against Floyd’s lips.
The very idea is absurd. If Floyd has to work to remind Shifty how gorgeous he is, every day of every year for as long as they're together, he will.
“We can’t have that, now, can we?” He presses his mouth to Shifty’s jaw, hands traveling up the defined ridges of his torso — yet another place Tab’s long since mapped and explored down to the last muscle. Shifty’s head dips back as he smiles, and Floyd is left with a full view of his neck.
There, right beneath his chin — a dark freckle. Quick as a whip, he leans up and kisses it. Shifty huffs, conceding his victory in a fight that was over before it even begun.
“If I got to look at you every day for the rest of my life…” Floyd waits until Shifty’s gaze drifts back to meet his again, and smiles. “Sure sounds like heaven to me.”
