umbralla | [for romain]

[No protest. He shivers a little, maybe, because he thinks at first that it's the shadow thing again. Just a hand, though.

A warm hand, soft on his skin. He knows he's way too easy with the girls when he gets tipsy, but this is different. Or maybe it's the same, and that's the problem.

Which is a bit ridiculous.]

Yeah. You'll be free.

[So will he. Free to do whatever he wants. But he doesn't know what he wants. Argh.]

You will be free before me. [Now his voice sounds just a touch coy, like maybe he is putting on an act. Or at least trying.] Will you visit me, when you are free? Now that we are friends?

[When there's no objection, he starts to thread his fingers through with each pass of his hand. Not taking advantage, he swears he's not - it won't go any further, but he may never have a chance to touch Romain so freely again.]

[He presses his lips in a smile. Not awkward, not playful. Just sensing the humor.]

Oh, man. You bet I will. Someone's gotta protect you from the stampede of fanboys.

['Cause that'll be greaaaaaaaat.]

My hair is a mess, isn't it? [EVERY STANFORD WORRIES ABOUT THE HAIR.] Oh well.

[just shuts his eyes again.]

It is very soft.

[The fanboy remark is just teasing. It doesn't need an answer. But Romain's hair is wonderfully soft.

He's serious again in a flash, his gaze down at Romain blurred by alcohol but still very intent.]

Do you really not know, how handsome you are?

You're drunk, Ghyslain.

[Why is it so weird to accept that a man can find him attractive too? Bah.]

You're un garçon attractif too. Wait - shit.

[and he laughs, cheeks high up, eyes shut tight. That's got to be the biggest mess of English and French he's uttered so far.]

I was not drunk when I first saw you.

[Too much, he's going way too far, but everything feels so comfortable and amiable here that he's not seeing the lines he keeps crossing.

His hand stills when Romain returns the compliment, though, and he takes in a surprised little breath.]

Moi? Non. Ça n'est pas amusant. [That's going too far, teasing him about being good-looking when - there's just no chance. Let him have this moment, but don't let him believe it could be any more.]

But you didn't even know me. Like, at all.

[ROMAIN THAT'S WHAT YOU DO WITH GIRLS

'OH SHE'S PRETTY LET ME GET TO KNOW HER' and the rest is history.]

Hey, je peux admettre quand un mec est beau! [Pointing at him emphatically again.] Entendu?

[he grabs Ghyslain's hand and smacks it against flat his forehead like he's proving a point. Ow. Did not mean to do that with so much strength. In any case, no homo!! But we're buddies!!!! now let's kiss

wait]

Keep doing that thing; that thing was nice.

Do you need to know someone to know that they are handsome?

[Okay, shit, that makes him laugh. He's still not sure he's handsome - too delicate, he thinks, features fine like a girl's and could blow away in a stiff breeze - but Romain's antics make him laugh. And when he's asked to go back to stroking Romain's hair, he first draws the back of his hand across Romain's cheek before returning to his hair.]

Your skin is soft as well. I thought that you were Secondary, you look so -

[Fresh is what he thinks first. Untouched. But that has an unfortunate connotation, one of inexperience, and that's not what he means. Untouched by time, as though he were born looking like this and will die looking like this decades from now.]

- I have no word for it. Not just young.

Haha, yeah. I get that a lot. Baby-faced. That's what they say.

[he's not upset - he even makes a game of it. How old am I? No, I'm twenty, I swear! Want me to prove it to you? Etc etc etc.]

Maybe it's a gift. Step aside, professor Stuart.

[everything's greaaaat.]

Mm.

[he relaxes his hand, grip loose on the bottle that rolls off and clatters on the floor. Soon as he realizes he lamely sits up, too drowsy to be properly alarmed.]

Oh, crap -

[Not baby-faced. Fresh-faced. That's why he went to fresh, he was halfway to a real expression.

His heart skips a beat at that sound, and then flutters wildly when Romain sits up, only to crash down to his toes when he hears oh, crap. It's been broken. The spell has been broken. Romain is still dopey and drunk, but he's aware now.]

Do you want to leave? [He sounds guilty. He looks guilty. He has been taking advantage, for all his justifying to himself.]

[so drowsy that he keeps bending over the edge of the bed to pick up the bottle with a little grunt. Now it's his clothes and hair that are disheveled, in addition to looking like a muppet that just came out of dry-cleaning and doesn't know why.]

What, no, man, [he checks the bottle - hopefully nothing spilled - before realizing Ghyslain might just be sick of him taking up his bed.] Oh. Sorry, d'you want me to go? I keep butting in. Sorry. I said that already.

You are very drunk as well.

[His smile is small and affectionate. Romain makes an oddly sweet picture, all rumpled and dazed like this, but it's true. He's very drunk. Ghyslain should make him leave before any mistakes are made, the kind that could end a friendship only just beginning.

He doesn't.]

Non, I do not want you to go. But now you are a mess. [Toeing the lines again, smoothing down Romain's shirt with light, sweeping little movements before trying to finger-comb his hair back into place. Much more slowly and carefully than necessary, smile very gradually dropping from his lips.]

[what the hell does he do with his hands that they feel so nice? Or maybe tipsy means he's now a cat. Something has to be it. He just knows that his lids go droopy and - oh, those lips. He's not smiling anymore, and neither is Romain, but he doesn't care.

He still thinks they remind him of a woman's mouth, but in no odd way. They fit his features nicely. His eyes are so striking and full of character. His brows make him look like he's so focused on everything. Like he's had his full attention the whole time they were talking. Yeah, he - he knows what Ghyslain means when he says he's been made to feel special. More so when he knows he's attracted to him.

... Focus, Romain. Don't just wet your lips and swallow dry. No. What are you doing letting those lips part slightly. Stahp.]

Thanks.

[is this happening? He's never even thought he'd find another man so magnetic. It's so simple, but. Confusing. He needs to google about this. What to do when a pretty guy isn't a girl? Dear yahoo, am I gay or just suffering tue side-effects of beer? Am I drunk-gay?

You know that thing about replacing matter. He needs to replace his brain.]

You really think I'm pretty?

[wrong word but u tried]

[Romain definitely has his full attention now, heavy-lidded and wetting his lips and taking in his face piece by piece in such an obvious way that Ghyslain would be embarrassed for him if he weren't buzzing with the electricity of this new moment. This is more promise than the two of them have shown the whole night, this feels very real and possible, and he's the clearer-headed of the two of them but nowhere near rational.]

Non, tu n'es pas belle. Tu es beau.

[He's not manly, not with that sweet face, but it's very much a masculine appeal. This time he does cup Romain's cheek, thumb brushing against the skin in little swoops back and forth, and he leans closer. Sweeps his thumb over Romain's slightly open mouth.]

Très beau.

[god, this is so weird. Not uncomfortable, though - exciting. That's what makes it weird. He's the one who cups the other face, he's the one who brushes his thumb sweetly before looking for that silent permission in her eyes to lean in. He's really not used to having it the other way around.]

That's right.

[he hasn't felt that little bubbling of excitement in his stomach in such a long time. First when he was 14. Then 16. Then it was just... Not new anymore. That's what this is. New. Walking in to a room you should know, but the lights are out. He should know the basics, just... The risk of tripping and bumping and getting hurt is very real.

Ugh. He's not gay. He's not! He's freaking twenty. He's been with a bunch of girls. He'd know, okay? He just walked into the music room because he heard French, for god's sake.

(who is he arguing with tho)]

And you're - you smell nice.

[bro]

[He smells nice?

The actual compliment doesn't matter. He was looking for silent permission, and those words were more than he expected. This is okay. He's been so skittish since Fallon, so certain he just wasn't enough, and now he's certain he can be again.

And Romain is straight. Didn't his friend also say something about the straight ones who flatter so much swinging back and forth between curious and pretty sure of themselves? Couldn't this just become a prolonged mistake instead of a brief and final one?

He doesn't care. He smells nice, apparently, and that means he's going to slide his hand around to cup the back of Romain's head and pull him in the rest of the distance between them. Ghyslain's lips are just as plush as they look, just a little bit parted, and he breathes out heavily through his nose as he presses their mouths more firmly together.]

Edited 2015-06-16 01:04 (UTC)

[that hand is both gentle and firm when he's nudged closer, feeling the brush of lips that really shouldn't be allowed to be this soft. Romain's own just seem to be naturally puckered most of the time, which certainly helps. So does being warm and smooth.

Straight, bi, curious, whatever. What he's really worried about is how you're supposed to kiss another guy. And this is the first, too, so he's got to impress, ever so competitive.

He sighs. Forces himself to relax until his eyes shut. That makes it easier. Moving is what's hard. It becomes one of those kisses that's more two people feeling outlines with precious stillness than tasting each other hungrily. He just lingers, neither stiff nor limp. A nice middle.

He lifts his hand to Ghyslain's shoulder. It's happening.]

[When he feels Romain's hand on his shoulder, he goes very still for a moment; then, when there's no push away, he comes fully alive. His mouth opens on Romain's, hands tangle in his hair, and he lets out a choked little sound of relief as he tilts his head to lick at Romain's lips. There's no holding back now, not when he's been given a signal that it's okay - he may still get pushed away, but until then, he's definitely hungry.]

[oh god - this is it. He's so used to pacing it whenever he isn't sloppily fooling around that he thinks he's going to be given that time, but Ghyslain just makes his desires transparent and takes it to the next level almost immediately. Before he knows it he's exhaling shakily and parting his lips in turn, certain that his heart really did just sink down from his chest.

His fingers curl tightly - either to anchor himself or to warn Ghyslain he needs to catch up. He's not sure. What he does know is that somewhere in the middle of rolling his tongue up against the other boy's he left a content little hum escape.

Okay. Impressing him. Time to move the hand up to this neck, thumb on his jawline and fingers behind his ear, angling his head to pause just for a second and resume.]</small

Edited 2015-06-16 01:38 (UTC)

[He can feel a bit of that - not hesitation, exactly, but that there's some slippage between their speeds. Don't completely devour him now, not when he's new to this and god only knows what he's thinking.

With a great effort, Ghyslain dials back a bit, just letting their tongues slide and twist together. It's so good, letting that unspoken (well, only occasionally spoken) tension he's been carrying inside of him spill over and feeling reciprocation. His own mind is overactive in its own way, reminding him that Romain doesn't want to be tied to anything and has been open about it, and that he still hasn't voiced any kind of flexibility in his sexuality despite kissing back. Ghyslain can not expect a thing here. He has to be thankful for what he's given rather than grasping for what will never be.

And right now that's fine. He's being given more than enough. Goosebumps rise up beneath Romain's hand and he shivers deeply; that kind of high sensitivity runs through nearly his entire body when he's excited, no one spot to find because he's wound as tight as a guitar string from head to toe, so Romain will not find it difficult to please him if it gets that far. The shiver comes with a soft moan, and Ghyslain's hands tighten even further in Romain's hair to encourage him, his mouth focussing on Romain's bottom lip to suck and lick lightly just there for a moment.]

Mmn -

[He's not sure what that means. A protest, sound of surprise? Even pleasure? What he does know is that he's really not used to all this initiative. He'll give and take eager, sure, but he'll also pick girls that are so open to his extroversion that they end up letting him drive for the both of them. This is so - pleasantly different. Not as intimidating as he thought it' be, too.

Romain's eyes remain shut when he lets his mouth hang open and tips his chin, feeling the other boy work at his lower lip in a manner that makes him melt. This is being too easy. It's going to spiral out of control, isn't it? And he can't even decide if that's a mistake because Alcohol Knows No Mistakes.]

Ghyslain...

[still not a protest. Just the breath one takes before the plunge. Then he's holding on tight and taking over, his turn to press roughly against Ghyslain's mouth. Romain's tongue prods in, licking at his, sucking on his lips, muttering little sounds evry time he pauses and positions himself differently.

Definitely a sloppy makeout. But god, it's really good.]

[It's true, alcohol does obliterate the concept of mistakes. So does arousal, after a point, and Ghyslain is so incredibly aroused already that he's breathless when Romain pulls away enough to say his name. The way he's turned to face Romain, one leg drawn up a little, does wonders to hide the physical evidence of his excitement but it's still written all over his face.]

Romain. [Right back at him, a little firmer than his own name was said, and he's just about to smile when Romain moves in and all he can do is whimper and take his own turn at clinging for dear life. That is good, it's rough and in command, and it's the last thing he expected from a straight boy. And it's not quite like the others kissed him, sort of teaching and guiding, moulding him into what would be most pleasing; his movements are just assured and assertive, not trying to coax anything out of Ghyslain but pleasure, and that's working very fucking well.

So he shifts roles as well, lets himself be led without that suggestion of being shaped - and it is so, so good that he can barely believe it. He wants to take it the full way, lie back and just let Romain ravish him, but he's the one who knows what he's doing beyond sloppy makeouts; that's why, even as Romain is driving the kisses, he climbs right into Romain's lap and strokes his hands down from his hair to his back with fingers bent to cling even more tightly. He almost giggles into Romain's mouth, nervous and thrilled and needy. If this proves to be okay, then Romain will eventually find himself nudged onto his back and the fun will really begin.]

Nn - [Shit, did Ghyslain really just whimper like that? Like he's the one in need instead of being the one in control, making both their positions shift constantly and his head spin. He's dizzy for other reasons, too, but remarkably less excited than Ghyslain is already, maybe because he's still terrified. Were he all the way terrified, though, and he'd just stop, but - instead he feels a set of legs around his, making him release another small sound under his breath. It's not as different as he thought, if he's still going to be given this part.

That's definitely an erection pressing up against him, though, so that's new.]

Oh, man.

[Nervous? Yeah, he just remembered he's nervous as hell. Still going, though, if the way his hand stays on Ghyslain's face and caresses him is any indication of that. His eyes are droopy and his lips swollen, glossy and red, words slurred.]

You're - you're a really good kisser.

[small, bashful laughter. aaaaand they're back to making out.]

[He's immediately aware that Romain isn't physically aroused, the second he settles his weight on Romain's lap, and it's another reminder. Slow, slow. While he's lost enough inhibitions to do this, he's got enough awareness that those reminders of how tenuous this situation is still reach him. Slow. He might have started rocking his body against Romain's if he'd felt any hardness between the other boy's legs, but now he's staying still, just letting him feel this and what it's like.

And again, he looks so sweet when he pulls away, overwhelmed but in a way that doesn't really show all that fear; he just looks lost, and Ghyslain will guide him as far down the path as he'd like to go.]

Romain, if you - mmph! [So much for his little disclaimer about stopping things whenever and wherever he wants: he's kissed again before he can get out another word. Continuing to read his physical cues will be the order of the evening, and Ghyslain is quite good at that, since Fallon's icy moods could often be cured by just the right treatment and it was always his job to guess what that might be. Right now, kissing is where Romain finds enjoyment and feels comfortable enough to continue, so Ghyslain will stay with kissing; if he strokes at Romain's back, long sweeping movements of his hands with fingers still curled enough to scratch just a bit, it's only over his shirt and not beneath it yet.]

[nope nope nope. More making out. He's still not getting hard as much as he's just extremely content and his heart is racing, letting even one hand drop down to to Ghyslain's thigh before he remembers - erection. There's an erection somewhere between them.]

Wait.

[He's squinting. His hair looks like an even bigger mess.]

Are we gonna have sex?

[He's never asked that before. Or - asked it like that. Either the partner makes it abundantly clear or he outright asks if she wants to. And, well. Does he have to ask that when his partner has a boner pressed up against him.

So... maybe it should rather be 'do you expect to get sex out of this?']

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