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
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.