It doesn't occur to him that Hector probably means soccer. He isn't going to take him up on it either way; despite appearances, Dodger's too much of a nerd to get into sports.
He hesitates, and presses a bit closer to Hector.
"What about a date? Doesn't have to be tomorrow, just.. some time. When you're free. Would that be.. weird?"
His brain skitters and halts. A date. A date just after murdering Francis. A date with him. His mouth opens but nothing comes out.
Yes. Yes, it would be weird, he thinks. He's married, he's committed to going home. He's said it a million times and Dodger is in mourning and this is very sudden and it couldn't go anywhere. It couldn't even if he wanted it to, even if he didn't have family back home. Hell, it probably wouldn't work even if Dodger or he weren't both men, Dodger was Dodger and a ticking clock who has already killed him. Who has already hurt him in so many ways. They were supposed to be working on making a distance between them, getting back to being friends, just friends, if they had ever been so.
Maybe he's overthinking this. Maybe date means something else in the future. Maybe it's a date as in the literal picking of time. More importantly, it's Dodger trying to find normalcy and it might be a good thing. Is he really going to say no right now?
(And maybe some part of him doesn't want to say no.)
"No. I mean, yes. I mean." He frowns, feeling his face heat. "It's fine. I'd like to spend time with you. Some time."
He can see the way Hector's head seems to hit a record scratch, and it puts an affectionate grin on his face. He can't help brushing Hector's hair back, and pressing a kiss to his lips.
"Feel like I should be flattered I still have this kind of effect on you." He teases gently. "I want to grab something to eat, watch a movie, and... I still wanna see about that night of hedonism."
Something shifts behind his eyes, when the word hedonism passes his lips. A bit of that hunger, which had been strangely absent so far, seems to curl back into his gaze, changing that way it sweeps over Hector.
It's not bad. Aside from the hedonism, it sounds like any good time out. And even the hedonism is still something he more or less promised, something Dodger had already wanted.
He sees the hunger there, recognizes it, and finds himself faintly amused. It's a familiar thing and he'd wondered when it would show up again. It's never gone long.
"I have said I liked you," He defends weakly, embarrassed. He turns the whole thing over again in his mind. "How about I make you dinner then. I'll be able to eat it with you if I make it myself and you'll get to have something half-way decent. We can go to the theater or stay in. And then you can finally have your hedonism."
He sees some amusement in Hector's eyes, and in turn he gives the man a look of mild bemusement. It feels like there's a joke in the air he's not getting.
"Yeah. Dinner at my place, we can watch a movie while we eat. I don't think I've had your cooking yet. And..." He laughs softly, leaning in for a kiss, "...We can play with some of the toys I've got in my room. See what you like."
That just makes his smile turn wry. It makes it a secret joke for himself to indulge in-- because who else would find humor in Dodger's lust anyway? Who else was comfortable with both the absolute lack of attachment and its combination with that perpetual want? It was only funny for those who liked to ache in that very particular way.
"My cooking's not that amazing," He laughs. "I just know it's better than what you can do." A small bit of teasing he can share.
Dodger leans in for a kiss and he's already moving to meet it. He kisses soft. And then again, deeper. Is this worse than dancing on a stranger's grave? Probably. But that's not why he feels his stomach flip and flutter. One last sin. One last sin and it can be Dodger.
"What I like... and what you like of me," He breathes on Dodger's lips.
He can only behave himself for so long, and it goes out the window when Hector starts kissing him back. He feels entranced, reaching up to curl his fingers in Hector's hair as he eagerly meets his lips.
One of his hands finds Hector's thigh, pulling him as close as he can when they're already basically skin-to-skin. He has to break the kiss to catch his breath but chases it again, trying to take as much as he can before his right mind catches up to him.
It would seem the conversation is over. That, he should've known too. But there's something so bewildering with it, so powerful. For someone to look at him as though enchanted. He of all people. It made no sense, but he doesn't want it to stop right now.
He's kissing back and he's finding a hunger of his own. Especially when Dodger's pulling his leg up like that. There's heat and breathlessness and when Dodger parts he's trying to pull back again, gripping Dodger close.
Dodger makes him feel utterly worthless. Dodger makes him feel like the holy thing he sure as hell isn't, no matter what the almost-snap of spreading wings suggest. Dodger feels like self-inflicted punishment, like the scars he's gained for his redemption that he tells himself he's happy to have.
Dodger only manages to pull away properly when he runs out of breath, and only enough that he can pant quietly against Hector's lips. He presses their foreheads together, and the younger man feels almost cool against him as his own skin heats up with arousal.
"Are you okay?"
He asks it without thinking, and means a lot of things by it. He has to be sure, for his own sanity, that he isn't forcing anything. And that Hector isn't too badly hurt for wherever this is headed.
He stops and stills the moment that question falls. Part of him wishes that Dodger hadn't asked it. It doesn't sound like he's talking just of this. There's a lot of things he could say. He isn't sure what good he could pull out.
"I don't know," He says. "I don't want to think." That much is true. "There's too much and I just... don't want to. If I let myself I might scream." Too much honesty. "Can we say I'm okay? We've already put me back together today and I want you. I'm okay enough. Please."
That last word is a different tone, breathy, begging. He pulls the heat of Dodger closer to him.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
It doesn't occur to him that Hector probably means soccer. He isn't going to take him up on it either way; despite appearances, Dodger's too much of a nerd to get into sports.
He hesitates, and presses a bit closer to Hector.
"What about a date? Doesn't have to be tomorrow, just.. some time. When you're free. Would that be.. weird?"
no subject
Yes. Yes, it would be weird, he thinks. He's married, he's committed to going home. He's said it a million times and Dodger is in mourning and this is very sudden and it couldn't go anywhere. It couldn't even if he wanted it to, even if he didn't have family back home. Hell, it probably wouldn't work even if Dodger or he weren't both men, Dodger was Dodger and a ticking clock who has already killed him. Who has already hurt him in so many ways. They were supposed to be working on making a distance between them, getting back to being friends, just friends, if they had ever been so.
Maybe he's overthinking this. Maybe date means something else in the future. Maybe it's a date as in the literal picking of time. More importantly, it's Dodger trying to find normalcy and it might be a good thing. Is he really going to say no right now?
(And maybe some part of him doesn't want to say no.)
"No. I mean, yes. I mean." He frowns, feeling his face heat. "It's fine. I'd like to spend time with you. Some time."
no subject
"Feel like I should be flattered I still have this kind of effect on you." He teases gently. "I want to grab something to eat, watch a movie, and... I still wanna see about that night of hedonism."
Something shifts behind his eyes, when the word hedonism passes his lips. A bit of that hunger, which had been strangely absent so far, seems to curl back into his gaze, changing that way it sweeps over Hector.
no subject
He sees the hunger there, recognizes it, and finds himself faintly amused. It's a familiar thing and he'd wondered when it would show up again. It's never gone long.
"I have said I liked you," He defends weakly, embarrassed. He turns the whole thing over again in his mind. "How about I make you dinner then. I'll be able to eat it with you if I make it myself and you'll get to have something half-way decent. We can go to the theater or stay in. And then you can finally have your hedonism."
HELLO IM BACK TO THIS
"Yeah. Dinner at my place, we can watch a movie while we eat. I don't think I've had your cooking yet. And..." He laughs softly, leaning in for a kiss, "...We can play with some of the toys I've got in my room. See what you like."
\o/
"My cooking's not that amazing," He laughs. "I just know it's better than what you can do." A small bit of teasing he can share.
Dodger leans in for a kiss and he's already moving to meet it. He kisses soft. And then again, deeper. Is this worse than dancing on a stranger's grave? Probably. But that's not why he feels his stomach flip and flutter. One last sin. One last sin and it can be Dodger.
"What I like... and what you like of me," He breathes on Dodger's lips.
no subject
One of his hands finds Hector's thigh, pulling him as close as he can when they're already basically skin-to-skin. He has to break the kiss to catch his breath but chases it again, trying to take as much as he can before his right mind catches up to him.
no subject
He's kissing back and he's finding a hunger of his own. Especially when Dodger's pulling his leg up like that. There's heat and breathlessness and when Dodger parts he's trying to pull back again, gripping Dodger close.
Dodger makes him feel utterly worthless. Dodger makes him feel like the holy thing he sure as hell isn't, no matter what the almost-snap of spreading wings suggest. Dodger feels like self-inflicted punishment, like the scars he's gained for his redemption that he tells himself he's happy to have.
no subject
"Are you okay?"
He asks it without thinking, and means a lot of things by it. He has to be sure, for his own sanity, that he isn't forcing anything. And that Hector isn't too badly hurt for wherever this is headed.
no subject
"I don't know," He says. "I don't want to think." That much is true. "There's too much and I just... don't want to. If I let myself I might scream." Too much honesty. "Can we say I'm okay? We've already put me back together today and I want you. I'm okay enough. Please."
That last word is a different tone, breathy, begging. He pulls the heat of Dodger closer to him.