[If he was still standing, this kiss would knock him down. As it is, he's safe. Safer than safe, pulled up on the counter with Joseph in front of him, Joseph tangled up in his legs, Joseph whose lips are hot and insistent against his. He squeezes his eyes shut and kisses back as well as he can, trying to muffle hungry, demanding noises against Joseph's mouth, hoping he won't mention them because he doesn't . . .]
[He doesn't want to think. He just wants to feel, he wants to want, he can't love anything or anyone right now because he's too scared but he can sense the edges of it, the beginnings, or some wicked mimic, and he wants that, too. Whatever this is, he wants it.]
[He doesn't want it to leave him behind.]
[And he gasps in the space between them, devastated in a stupid way for just a second when they're not kissing, and then he's going red and his hand's curving around until it spans the space between his hip and his stomach. My Jojo, he thinks, and leans in for another quick, rough kiss, one that ends too soon just so he can say what he needs to say.]
I trust you.
[Which is not I love you. But for him, it's close. And the thing that follows after — after months of saying go away, with his words and his actions — it's almost the same thing, too.]
Come here.
[He bites back I need you and says it with the spread of his fingers instead, tracing the line of Joseph's hip. Add that to the list of things he wants.]
no subject
[He doesn't want to think. He just wants to feel, he wants to want, he can't love anything or anyone right now because he's too scared but he can sense the edges of it, the beginnings, or some wicked mimic, and he wants that, too. Whatever this is, he wants it.]
[He doesn't want it to leave him behind.]
[And he gasps in the space between them, devastated in a stupid way for just a second when they're not kissing, and then he's going red and his hand's curving around until it spans the space between his hip and his stomach. My Jojo, he thinks, and leans in for another quick, rough kiss, one that ends too soon just so he can say what he needs to say.]
I trust you.
[Which is not I love you. But for him, it's close. And the thing that follows after — after months of saying go away, with his words and his actions — it's almost the same thing, too.]
Come here.
[He bites back I need you and says it with the spread of his fingers instead, tracing the line of Joseph's hip. Add that to the list of things he wants.]