Yet there is something in the way that Elmott's eyes flutter open the moment after his lips close the distance between them, something prying him open with a gentleness he's never known, and he lets it happen. As a boy, he'd always thought that to give meant to expect something in return. When he never received anything, he resolved to never give himself to anyone. He was a fool. Why would did he expect anything? There was nothing a ghost of a scoundrel like him could ever give to a kind stranger who had yet to live a single lifetime. But when Elmott takes him by the hand before he asks, he thinks what he could give would never be enough.
Yan Qing meets Elmott's earnest amber eyes and he is suddenly shy, feeling centuries younger as he takes back the youth he'd lost to duty and a one track mind. His cheeks grow hot under Elmott's gaze. He pushes against Elmott's chest in embarrassment as his heart skips a beat. Is this what it means to be carefree? The shadow of Elmott's face makes him look a little older when he draws toward him, the man's words like smoke as he tells him all he's ever wanted to hear, and for once, Yan Qing feels he doesn't have to shoulder anything alone.
His voice trembles, and he has never felt more vulnerable. ]
[ it's almost funny in a way, how this is what makes yan qing embarrassed rather than everything else they've done up to this point. elmott has never thought of himself as someone who could make people feel shy in this way, someone who could make them blush, their heart race; color their cheek with the same redness that always shows up on his own. he presses his fingertips lightly to the delicate curve of yan qing's cheekbone, quietly marveling at how warm it feels, and something swells in his chest to fill every part of his body— not the heat from desire (not entirely), but something softer. something sweeter. ]
You've been holding me this whole time, haven't you? [ his chuckle is light, just as his hands that settle on yan qing's waist, coaxing him closer again. ] You don't gotta ask.
[ but when has yan qing ever asked him for anything? he takes what he wants whenever he wants. elmott has always envied him for having the audacity to do so, to be bold in knowing what he wants and taking it without second guessing himself. outside of his magic, outside of battle and instruction, elmott holds himself back too often. maybe that's how they work, and maybe that's why even though yan qing's voice wavers, elmott's doesn't.
he leans in, pressing his lips gently to one pink cheek. ]
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Yet there is something in the way that Elmott's eyes flutter open the moment after his lips close the distance between them, something prying him open with a gentleness he's never known, and he lets it happen. As a boy, he'd always thought that to give meant to expect something in return. When he never received anything, he resolved to never give himself to anyone. He was a fool. Why would did he expect anything? There was nothing a ghost of a scoundrel like him could ever give to a kind stranger who had yet to live a single lifetime. But when Elmott takes him by the hand before he asks, he thinks what he could give would never be enough.
Yan Qing meets Elmott's earnest amber eyes and he is suddenly shy, feeling centuries younger as he takes back the youth he'd lost to duty and a one track mind. His cheeks grow hot under Elmott's gaze. He pushes against Elmott's chest in embarrassment as his heart skips a beat. Is this what it means to be carefree? The shadow of Elmott's face makes him look a little older when he draws toward him, the man's words like smoke as he tells him all he's ever wanted to hear, and for once, Yan Qing feels he doesn't have to shoulder anything alone.
His voice trembles, and he has never felt more vulnerable. ]
Can I hold you?
no subject
You've been holding me this whole time, haven't you? [ his chuckle is light, just as his hands that settle on yan qing's waist, coaxing him closer again. ] You don't gotta ask.
[ but when has yan qing ever asked him for anything? he takes what he wants whenever he wants. elmott has always envied him for having the audacity to do so, to be bold in knowing what he wants and taking it without second guessing himself. outside of his magic, outside of battle and instruction, elmott holds himself back too often. maybe that's how they work, and maybe that's why even though yan qing's voice wavers, elmott's doesn't.
he leans in, pressing his lips gently to one pink cheek. ]
I'm here.