As the moments ticked on, Fisher started relaxing, probably a stupid mistake on his part. But this actually was nice. He felt like he was doing something right, was actually helping someone. It was a great feeling. And then of course he hit a bad spot and James hissed in pain. Hands flying back, Fisher sat back against the couch, a terrified look on his face. Shit, oh shit oh shit oh shit!! He was going to die!
Waiting, waiting, Fisher stayed put, expecting any second for James to spin around and tear his head off. But it never came. Instead, James told him not to stop. After another stunned moment, Fisher's hands tentatively began their work again, moving in small circles over the man's skin. "Thanks," he said softly, a small smile spreading on his lips. He was doing a good job. There was that happiness again, warm deep in his belly. It sent a nice little buzz throughout his body, quickening his pulse just slightly.
Since James seemed to like this so far, and since he was doing a good job, Fisher decided to overstep his boundaries a little. Hopefully his luck wouldn't run out just yet. Leaning forward a little, Fisher placed his hands on James' shoulders, pulling him upright just enough to reach the man's face. Tilting James' chin up, Fisher's fingers ran through the man's hair, nails raking gently over the scalp, scratching down the sides of his neck, running over the curves of his shoulders.