Puck, surlily, is cognizant of the fact that Havelock has his hands on his hips (and doesn't it just fill one's mind with possibility), as well as the fact that his own retain their grip on his shirt. If he doesn't let go soon, he concedes, his fingers may become permanently hooked into claws.
He doesn't look away from Havelock, though he must look up. His eyes, unglittering and perfectly consistent in shade, are nevertheless a gleaming bright blue, and the expression in them is one of uncertainty.
The proximity dizzies him, and dizziness makes him restless. He unhands Havelock's shirt, in favor of sliding his fingertips to his shoulders and rising on tiptoe to press a kiss to his neck.
no subject
Puck, surlily, is cognizant of the fact that Havelock has his hands on his hips (and doesn't it just fill one's mind with possibility), as well as the fact that his own retain their grip on his shirt. If he doesn't let go soon, he concedes, his fingers may become permanently hooked into claws.
He doesn't look away from Havelock, though he must look up. His eyes, unglittering and perfectly consistent in shade, are nevertheless a gleaming bright blue, and the expression in them is one of uncertainty.
The proximity dizzies him, and dizziness makes him restless. He unhands Havelock's shirt, in favor of sliding his fingertips to his shoulders and rising on tiptoe to press a kiss to his neck.