Re: [Lake: Misha/Damian.]
Damian could not have said what was normal or not either. He did not know if Dietre should go alone or not. To be honest, it did not matter one iota to him either way. So long as the dog was cared for appropriately, it did not matter to him what Dietre did. He did not care if Dietre was healthy or if he went places with his animal or what he did. He understood, obviously, that Misha cared, but, that was where Damian's own concern ceased.—This was not the case when it came to the two of them, obviously. And Damian's gaze was clear and curious. "You are not just my boyfriend. You are just my fiancé." He smiled again. "I do not think you are my crutch either. But, I do think you assist me in much. You have made me feel better, for example."
It did not occur to Damian, precisely, that did not express his emotions in a socially accepted way. He knew it, obviously, because he was not stupid, but, as he was himself and had not ever been anyone else, he did not think about it often. He did not consider that his lack of smiling and/or laughing would cause Misha to attach sentiment to the expressions. He did not consider it now either. Misha said they would speak upon Satan later, and this was fine with Damian, as he too would rather spend the time they had kissing.
That said, he did not mind offering reassurance to Misha's concern about the spanking. But, like the other subjects, it was set aside, and this was fine, as well. Damian smiled as he was pulled closer, and he accepted the kiss and its varied promises inherent. Damian shifted in Misha's lap when the boy's hand found his ass, because he could and because he knew exactly what it was Misha desired (and could not) do.
Damian had one arm up about Misha's shoulders and his other was folded between them, his hand on fuzzy chest, slid under the black band of suspender. He gripped the boy's sweater, pinching some at soft skin underneath, as he opened his mouth under Misha's. Damian's legs were wrapped around Misha's waist and he squeezed them, constricting muscles around mass, pulling himself closer, hips titled and ass against Misha's dick—or where it would be, anyway. He smiled slightly, just before he offering tongue, as well, and then with great gusto. Damian was not shy.