I… ah. Of… of course, Kailas. I… wouldn’t want you to. I already said that, didn’t I. *he softly manages, his voice quiet, holding nothing of that usual calm, confident tone. He has very little confidence in this moment, after all, real or forced—as it tends to be more often than not—but he manages a smile, his focus never leaving Kailas’s gaze. He strokes carefully, affectionately, lovingly against Kailas’s cheek. The longer he meets that gaze, the more that warmth surges within him, growing, swelling—it’s difficult to think around, to breathe around, to do anything but stare. Yet, he… he’s giving Kailas the wrong impression, isn’t he?*
Kailas… I shouldn’t. I knew that I shouldn’t, but I, hah, for so long, I… *he hesitantly whispers, pressing so very firmly against this loving, honest man beneath him, taking in a shaky breath as he shifts deeply within Kailas. He’s—what in the world has he done to deserve this? He shouldn’t, he shouldn’t, and yet he can’t stop the utterly grateful expression flooding his features, uncertain and hesitant as it also may be.* I… Kailas, I….