[ Jonas stumbles his way through cheek-warming, chest-splitting compliments that he both wants to cut short and encourage to continue on for as long as he's allowed to hear them. A deep vein of implanted toxic masculinity rebels at one descriptor until it's corrected, but doesn't it also feel good when he sits with it? ]
Oh, got it... [ His hand teasingly slips from Jonas's all of a sudden, palm planting itself flat in the space between them when he lifts his head and scoots an inch away. ]
So because I'm too nerdy you want me to go, right? That's messed up... when I didn't say what a loser you are. I was gonna' stick around for your smile. Or... the stupid way you say things.
Go? ( What an inconceivable idea, immediately grabbing for the hand that's placed between them. ) After that one compliment and two backhanded... whatevers? Don't you dare. Get back here.
( Magneted to Noctis, Jonas leans in to close that inch, then chances a bit more. Lips press in what he hopes is a less scandalous way against a warm cheek, lingering only to
dab his skin with the tip of his tongue like a bingo dauber
"Backhanded"? Now you're ungrateful... it was one, tops. [ His hand is grabbed with an immediacy that excites him but that doesn't compare to Jonas's mouth again finding him, hot breath exhaled from his nose and cooling on skin newly dampened by his tongue. It sends a shock into his gut as he again pulls back with a playful shove, smile undaunted but flush deepened and gaze uncertain.
It's startling just how difficult it is not to glance down the collar of his shirt when he leans in or to take a little extra time to appreciate the shape of his arms when Jonas's face is already so breathtaking. ]
Geeze... you are the lamest guy I'veβ aren't you the one that wanted to cool it?
Now you're the one who's drunk. [ The words are barely out of his mouth before that blue stare is visibly lowering to Jonas's lips, again, having to exercise considerable willpower to make himself look away. ]
I am not drunk, that's the whole point. Otherwise, we'd be making out likeβ ( giggles in the most masculine way he can, which is not at all ) βoh my God, like crazy right now.
( Okay, so the liquor's hitting him, but he's got a pleasant buzz on, and that's not the level Noctis is at. It's nice like this, though, acting playful with each other while maintaining just enough intimate distance. Extreme flirting is a tantalizing new game they've invested themselves in.
He smiles warmly when Noctis again stares at his mouth, knowing exactly that feeling. )
We're doing a good job, though. At least, I think. Unless you're talking about something else that's "tough," and I'm misinterpreting the whole situation. I'm, like, actually perfectly fine just sitting here doing nothing with you, perv.
[ Maybe he should drink more. Maybe it would make him feel tired like he did the other night, and he can stop himself from getting so easily excited by the fantasy Jonas crafts like it isn't fundamentally relationship-changing.
He wants that. He wants to touch warm skin and kiss damp lips until they agree that the fire isn't warm enough but a shared cot would be. He wants to hear that they're both what the other wants, and to make a commitment he can wake up with tomorrow. ]
You are so... [ For the second time in a row, trying to describe Jonas ends in failure. He doesn't have to wonder why. ]
Have you even checked your messages and misfires? Oh, but I'm the big pervert out here. Yeah, sure, watch out for me, I'mβ [ The joke is exaggerated with a faint grin and intentionally rolled eyes, head lolling away from him once for him to suddenly make direct eye contact with an elderly woman hunched near the bench to their right.
It's just as obvious that she's come back for a forgotten shawl as it is that her task has been halted by overhearing their conversation, a look of judgment first given to the half-buried datapad still blasting music at their feet before it's then transferred to the "pervert" Noctis himself. ]
Ah. Hey, Yranataya. Sorry if it was loud again... or... [ His words aren't even out before she's turning on her heel, that sea-green cloth wrapped over her head and blocking them both from view as she slowly shuffles away. ]
( Yranataya's sudden appearance makes him jump with a quiet exclamation of "Jesus!"
Completely unexpected this late, adrenalized now into a state of euphoria when it's just one of the caravaners, and he knows they're still safe, among kind company, and simultaneously judged with a powerful stink eye. While Noctis labours through an apology, Jonas clears his throat, the first sign he's planning something.
The second is digging his heels in to keep himself steady so Noctis doesn't side-tackle him into the sand. )
... He's actually not sorry at all, Yranataya! ( Expecting strong resistance, even with Noctis' head pillowed on his shoulder, Jonas grabs for his friend's wrists so he's not forcibly muffled by a hand. ) He's... he's telling me you could move your tent or get earplugs! Oh, my God, now he's making rude gesturesβ
( Laughing as the old woman casts a rotted, disbelieving look over her shoulder, one Jonas knows from experience means "Kids these days." )
[ His first course of action is to attempt to side-tackle Jonas into the sand, which is counteracted by dug-in heels. His second course of action is to try to slap a hand over Jonas's mouth to muffle him, which is counteracted by hands gripping his wrists. Damn, he's good.
Of course it wouldn't be any significant challenge for Noctis to overpower him in each and every way, but with as drunk as he is he doesn't trust his own limitations. It's obvious in the way he pushes against him almost laughably gently at first, firming up his protestations but never to the point where he thinks it might actually cause him any pain. ]
I'm not! You can't even see my hands, seriously! [ Is that worse?
His head lifts just in time to see her disappearing towards the collection of other tents, trying to decide just how real his own mortification is if it's almost impossible for him to keep from smiling. ]
You are... the biggest asshole I have ever m-met... [ Words disintegrate into poorly smothered laughs as he finally frees a hand to give him a shove, dead-center to his chest. Deserved. ]
Why was I ever nice to you... I take it all back, actually. Since day one.
Oh, please! ( Jonas cries out in response, rubbing the centre of his chest after he's done reeling and swinging his arms to stay on their bone bench. ) That sounds so believable when you're, like, laughing your ass off!
( He is, too. When was the last time they did this? Have they ever?
Even drunk, playing games with Cain, exchanging questions both fun and not, they didn't laugh this hard. He hasn't with Cain, either. Nothing can ruin this moment, but the night feels... disjointed without him here.
Fingers brush Noctis' shoulder, slipping up the side of his neck and behind his ear. A lock of hair is tucked there, and Jonas smiles. )
Try your hand at being mean to me. Go on, I gotta hear this.
[ Actually subjecting Jonas to violence is, of course, laughable, so he eases up on him when the other boy fights for his balance. It's hard, though. It makes for a good excuse to touch him when the line is as blurry as it is right now, not trying to tempt his tipsy friend into making a mistake that he might be too drunk to recognize as one.
Then Jonas tucks his hair behind his ear, and his chest suddenly feels like it's about to burst. A sharp intake of breath is held like he can somehow freeze the moment in place if he refuses to react, that single gesture startling him to his core perhaps more than the feel of lips on his had. It feels like something a lover would do, not for any sexual reason but just to make their partner feel taken care of. ]
You're really... special.
[ A bit lamely, and it's clear from his expression and tone that either he hasn't heard Jonas or can't even fathom trying. Only after a moment does he blink, remembering himself. ]
... wow. I should be sleeping, huh... Instead I'm out here with some idiot...
( After a mediocre life, exceptional things can still happen to him. Meeting Noctis was a surprise, and he's become a lighthouse in the void of everything else since. To hear this bright boy call him special is indescribable, but he knows how it all culminates: Love.
He loves him. He's been waiting for him for millennia.
Another kiss is placed where a talking mouth is, though it's chaste. Simple affection with nowhere else to go. )
Yeah, you are, but... don't go. Can't you just sit out here like this for a while?
[ The way Jonas looks at him is overwhelming, like a responsibility he fears fumbling but one that he's actually chosen for himself. To go from silly jokes to this so quickly is dizzying, but lips that press tenderness into his own justify it all as forged from a common purpose. That romantic attraction is strong, for both of them, and he trusts that not even alcohol could cause him to misconstrue what they both want from each other.
Does he have a boyfriend now? Does he have to ask first? He wants to ask, he realizes, but if kissing is inadvisable then that can only be worse. Leaning in against him again is an impossible gravitational pull to resist, but that sway is caught before he recreates their shared moment with a little less tenderness. ]
... sorry. I know I invited you out here and everything and you were probably sleeping before. I'm thinking... probably I should head back to my tent. [ He lingers, expression comically serious even as he's trying his hardest not to stare at Jonas's mouth.
And after battling with himself for far too long, he unnecessarily adds: ] You know I'm saying that because I have to, right? Not because I wanna' blow you off.
( He's beautiful. It's hard to think about anything else, especially when his dick's hard and he's getting a hard buzz on. Feeling Noctis' body against his would be as divine as Cain's, and it's that thought that makes him pause before meeting that sway with another kiss.
Cain.
Eyes lowering away from hair that looks just similar enough to be a strong reminder, Jonas nods. )
Yeah, I know. I don't have to like it, though. ( Smiling to contrast Noctis' put-upon sternness, his hands finally come away, working on untangling himself from warmth to again face the fire and stand. ) No, I gotta go, too. You're way too... uh... I'm having too much fun. That'sβI should get back to sleep.
( Almost hurriedly, he adds: ) Hey, this is gonna be the same in the morning, though. This. You and me.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Oh, got it... [ His hand teasingly slips from Jonas's all of a sudden, palm planting itself flat in the space between them when he lifts his head and scoots an inch away. ]
So because I'm too nerdy you want me to go, right? That's messed up... when I didn't say what a loser you are. I was gonna' stick around for your smile. Or... the stupid way you say things.
Or your nice singing voice.
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( Magneted to Noctis, Jonas leans in to close that inch, then chances a bit more. Lips press in what he hopes is a less scandalous way against a warm cheek, lingering only to
dab his skin with the tip of his tongue like a bingo dauber
BLEP.π )
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It's startling just how difficult it is not to glance down the collar of his shirt when he leans in or to take a little extra time to appreciate the shape of his arms when Jonas's face is already so breathtaking. ]
Geeze... you are the lamest guy I'veβ aren't you the one that wanted to cool it?
Now you're the one who's drunk. [ The words are barely out of his mouth before that blue stare is visibly lowering to Jonas's lips, again, having to exercise considerable willpower to make himself look away. ]
... this is kinda' tough, actually.
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( Okay, so the liquor's hitting him, but he's got a pleasant buzz on, and that's not the level Noctis is at. It's nice like this, though, acting playful with each other while maintaining just enough intimate distance. Extreme flirting is a tantalizing new game they've invested themselves in.
He smiles warmly when Noctis again stares at his mouth, knowing exactly that feeling. )
We're doing a good job, though. At least, I think. Unless you're talking about something else that's "tough," and I'm misinterpreting the whole situation. I'm, like, actually perfectly fine just sitting here doing nothing with you, perv.
1/2
He wants that. He wants to touch warm skin and kiss damp lips until they agree that the fire isn't warm enough but a shared cot would be. He wants to hear that they're both what the other wants, and to make a commitment he can wake up with tomorrow. ]
You are so... [ For the second time in a row, trying to describe Jonas ends in failure. He doesn't have to wonder why. ]
Have you even checked your messages and misfires? Oh, but I'm the big pervert out here. Yeah, sure, watch out for me, I'mβ [ The joke is exaggerated with a faint grin and intentionally rolled eyes, head lolling away from him once for him to suddenly make direct eye contact with an elderly woman hunched near the bench to their right.
It's just as obvious that she's come back for a forgotten shawl as it is that her task has been halted by overhearing their conversation, a look of judgment first given to the half-buried datapad still blasting music at their feet before it's then transferred to the "pervert" Noctis himself. ]
Ah. Hey, Yranataya. Sorry if it was loud again... or... [ His words aren't even out before she's turning on her heel, that sea-green cloth wrapped over her head and blocking them both from view as she slowly shuffles away. ]
2/2
Please just tell me when she's gone.
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Completely unexpected this late, adrenalized now into a state of euphoria when it's just one of the caravaners, and he knows they're still safe, among kind company, and simultaneously judged with a powerful stink eye. While Noctis labours through an apology, Jonas clears his throat, the first sign he's planning something.
The second is digging his heels in to keep himself steady so Noctis doesn't side-tackle him into the sand. )
... He's actually not sorry at all, Yranataya! ( Expecting strong resistance, even with Noctis' head pillowed on his shoulder, Jonas grabs for his friend's wrists so he's not forcibly muffled by a hand. ) He's... he's telling me you could move your tent or get earplugs! Oh, my God, now he's making rude gesturesβ
( Laughing as the old woman casts a rotted, disbelieving look over her shoulder, one Jonas knows from experience means "Kids these days." )
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Of course it wouldn't be any significant challenge for Noctis to overpower him in each and every way, but with as drunk as he is he doesn't trust his own limitations. It's obvious in the way he pushes against him almost laughably gently at first, firming up his protestations but never to the point where he thinks it might actually cause him any pain. ]
I'm not! You can't even see my hands, seriously! [ Is that worse?
His head lifts just in time to see her disappearing towards the collection of other tents, trying to decide just how real his own mortification is if it's almost impossible for him to keep from smiling. ]
You are... the biggest asshole I have ever m-met... [ Words disintegrate into poorly smothered laughs as he finally frees a hand to give him a shove, dead-center to his chest. Deserved. ]
Why was I ever nice to you... I take it all back, actually. Since day one.
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( He is, too. When was the last time they did this? Have they ever?
Even drunk, playing games with Cain, exchanging questions both fun and not, they didn't laugh this hard. He hasn't with Cain, either. Nothing can ruin this moment, but the night feels... disjointed without him here.
Fingers brush Noctis' shoulder, slipping up the side of his neck and behind his ear. A lock of hair is tucked there, and Jonas smiles. )
Try your hand at being mean to me. Go on, I gotta hear this.
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Then Jonas tucks his hair behind his ear, and his chest suddenly feels like it's about to burst. A sharp intake of breath is held like he can somehow freeze the moment in place if he refuses to react, that single gesture startling him to his core perhaps more than the feel of lips on his had. It feels like something a lover would do, not for any sexual reason but just to make their partner feel taken care of. ]
You're really... special.
[ A bit lamely, and it's clear from his expression and tone that either he hasn't heard Jonas or can't even fathom trying. Only after a moment does he blink, remembering himself. ]
... wow. I should be sleeping, huh... Instead I'm out here with some idiot...
no subject
He loves him. He's been waiting for him for millennia.
Another kiss is placed where a talking mouth is, though it's chaste. Simple affection with nowhere else to go. )
Yeah, you are, but... don't go. Can't you just sit out here like this for a while?
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Does he have a boyfriend now? Does he have to ask first? He wants to ask, he realizes, but if kissing is inadvisable then that can only be worse. Leaning in against him again is an impossible gravitational pull to resist, but that sway is caught before he recreates their shared moment with a little less tenderness. ]
... sorry. I know I invited you out here and everything and you were probably sleeping before. I'm thinking... probably I should head back to my tent. [ He lingers, expression comically serious even as he's trying his hardest not to stare at Jonas's mouth.
And after battling with himself for far too long, he unnecessarily adds: ] You know I'm saying that because I have to, right? Not because I wanna' blow you off.
no subject
Cain.
Eyes lowering away from hair that looks just similar enough to be a strong reminder, Jonas nods. )
Yeah, I know. I don't have to like it, though. ( Smiling to contrast Noctis' put-upon sternness, his hands finally come away, working on untangling himself from warmth to again face the fire and stand. ) No, I gotta go, too. You're way too... uh... I'm having too much fun. That'sβI should get back to sleep.
( Almost hurriedly, he adds: ) Hey, this is gonna be the same in the morning, though. This. You and me.