There ain't nothing that comes close to as good as you
More noise than word is all he manages for the time being. Even then, the sound is barely there, swallowed between her mouth and his as he lingers in the space between her lips. He doesn’t so much end the kiss as let it linger past its natural edge, testing how long he can hold it there before the world pushes back in. It doesn’t, not right away.
There’s a steadiness to the touch between them that he collides with and then stays against. Not something soft, or fleeting, but solid, like bracing a hand against a wall and realizing it isn’t going to give. His hands follow that instinct. Not grabbing, not frantic, just finding. One drags slow along her spine, feeling the slight shifts beneath skin and muscle, the way she moves with him, the way they bend together without even trying. The other settles firm at her side, thumb and fingers pressing in with a firmness that means to keep her exactly where she is. Close.
The curl of her against him, tightening whatever remains apart, has him shifting in response. It's subtle, instinctive, the kind of movement that happens before thought can catch it. The seat of his palm on her hip tugs her into the tilt of his, and the arm that'd been marking trails on her back fists into her hair, holding her like he means never to stop.
He breathes her in like it’s the only thing that makes sense. When everything else has gotten tangled somewhere along the way, this is the only thread he can follow cleanly back out. There’s a quiet insistence in it now, the way he holds her, the way his mouth lingers and returns and lingers again. He's not asking, just reaffirming—here. Still here.
His grip softens only enough to slide, hand dragging up her side and reaching to cup the press of a breast that's smushed against his chest. His hand rolls over her as if checking she’s real, that she hasn’t slipped away in the space between arguments and misunderstandings and all the things he keeps getting wrong. "I don't want you to get any more practice," he whispers into the small space he affords, forehead pressing briefly to hers, breath uneven but steadying, a quiet exhale brushing across her lips.
There’s a steadiness to the touch between them that he collides with and then stays against. Not something soft, or fleeting, but solid, like bracing a hand against a wall and realizing it isn’t going to give. His hands follow that instinct. Not grabbing, not frantic, just finding. One drags slow along her spine, feeling the slight shifts beneath skin and muscle, the way she moves with him, the way they bend together without even trying. The other settles firm at her side, thumb and fingers pressing in with a firmness that means to keep her exactly where she is. Close.
The curl of her against him, tightening whatever remains apart, has him shifting in response. It's subtle, instinctive, the kind of movement that happens before thought can catch it. The seat of his palm on her hip tugs her into the tilt of his, and the arm that'd been marking trails on her back fists into her hair, holding her like he means never to stop.
He breathes her in like it’s the only thing that makes sense. When everything else has gotten tangled somewhere along the way, this is the only thread he can follow cleanly back out. There’s a quiet insistence in it now, the way he holds her, the way his mouth lingers and returns and lingers again. He's not asking, just reaffirming—here. Still here.
His grip softens only enough to slide, hand dragging up her side and reaching to cup the press of a breast that's smushed against his chest. His hand rolls over her as if checking she’s real, that she hasn’t slipped away in the space between arguments and misunderstandings and all the things he keeps getting wrong. "I don't want you to get any more practice," he whispers into the small space he affords, forehead pressing briefly to hers, breath uneven but steadying, a quiet exhale brushing across her lips.
Kaisel
There is you, then all the rest, second place is the best they'll get
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
