[ Is this what they’re doing now, telling each other things because they’re too drunk to second guess it? Or at least Carver is, riding the currents to someplace quiet and calm. There’s nothing outside of the moment and how the two of them move inside it. Carver’s eyes are half-lidded and he likes how it feels to slow down, to have Larus’s kiss him and drag his mouth. The lighter sting of his teeth, never verging onto true pain. But it’s something real, something that keeps him from drifting entirely, and he runs his fingers through Larus’s hair again in lazy encouragement. Gentle, just like before. Even when his breath hitches, even when he shivers under Larus. ]
Your hair’s really soft, [ Carver tells him, reaching out to rub his thumb along the line of Larus’s cheek and them over to his mouth. Pressing against his lip. ] ‘s nice.
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Your hair’s really soft, [ Carver tells him, reaching out to rub his thumb along the line of Larus’s cheek and them over to his mouth. Pressing against his lip. ] ‘s nice.