[ 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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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.