FINN
and into the forest i go,
Tobi is going to have to be the one to worry about propriety for the moment, because as the hands come pressing against his chest, warm and small and gentle compared to all the ways Finn is used to being touched, he slips an arm around her waist and tries to keep her close even as they meander away from their coat pile. He's leaning in for another kiss now, more eager if no less soft in his ministrations, and he seems to have chosen the bedroom rather than the couch, because that's the way he's trying to take them.
Only when they stumble into the bedroom does he pause for breath, as if remembering what Tobi has said and how it isn't selfish to say what he likes. And so, with flushed cheeks and wishing, almost, that they'd had a shot of whiskey with their chocolate, he guides her hands down the length of his chest and torso, muscles tensing automatically as he feels her touch even through his shirt. "I like slow, at first," he whispers. "It doesn't matter if I'm wearing clothes or not. Slow is still good."
Only when they stumble into the bedroom does he pause for breath, as if remembering what Tobi has said and how it isn't selfish to say what he likes. And so, with flushed cheeks and wishing, almost, that they'd had a shot of whiskey with their chocolate, he guides her hands down the length of his chest and torso, muscles tensing automatically as he feels her touch even through his shirt. "I like slow, at first," he whispers. "It doesn't matter if I'm wearing clothes or not. Slow is still good."
to lose my mind and find my soul
