[ There's nothing surprising about Miles's inner landscape being sheer drops and firey brightness-- it's so quintessentially Miles, and it puts him at ease to have that running through the back of his head, a constant reassurance of who he's with and how much Miles wants this, and isn't hiding anything. It puts to rest all of his ghosts at once and the resulting lack of nagging worries shocks him all over again.
He'd picked this to start with because it's something he's never done before. There's no reminders here, nothing possible to trip him up. As he looks up at him, he suddenly thinks lack of experience may not be a good thing, given he doesn't know where to start. But before he can get too far down that path, Gregor sinks in further to that knotted-up anticipation and leans on that instead. Lets his own sincere eagerness to do this carry him through any self-consciousness.
(It's Miles. It's Miles, so it's okay to not know what he's doing... it's okay to make a mistake, if he does... He doesn't have to keep himself in check, or watch for anything. It's okay.)
He slides his hands down first, defying expectation. He goes after his shoes and socks, prying them off efficiently but with a sort of attentive interest. All of it feels fresh and fascinating to Gregor, and when he goes to unhinge his leg braces and set them carefully aside, there's no hesitation to him. He already knows how to do it; his hands don't stutter over them. His palms slide up his calves briefly just to feel skin to skin, appreciation all through him, and he retracts them only because he needs them above cloth to proceed. They return one each to the knees on either side of him, and he shifts up properly to start working his way upward. ]
I had a dream about this. [ A short glimpse of his own wicked look. ] About getting to suck you. I remember being extremely disappointed when I woke up.
[ Also intensely sick of himself, but Gregor's not saying that, is resolutely turning this from an unpleasant memory to a better one in this new light. ]
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He'd picked this to start with because it's something he's never done before. There's no reminders here, nothing possible to trip him up. As he looks up at him, he suddenly thinks lack of experience may not be a good thing, given he doesn't know where to start. But before he can get too far down that path, Gregor sinks in further to that knotted-up anticipation and leans on that instead. Lets his own sincere eagerness to do this carry him through any self-consciousness.
(It's Miles. It's Miles, so it's okay to not know what he's doing... it's okay to make a mistake, if he does... He doesn't have to keep himself in check, or watch for anything. It's okay.)
He slides his hands down first, defying expectation. He goes after his shoes and socks, prying them off efficiently but with a sort of attentive interest. All of it feels fresh and fascinating to Gregor, and when he goes to unhinge his leg braces and set them carefully aside, there's no hesitation to him. He already knows how to do it; his hands don't stutter over them. His palms slide up his calves briefly just to feel skin to skin, appreciation all through him, and he retracts them only because he needs them above cloth to proceed. They return one each to the knees on either side of him, and he shifts up properly to start working his way upward. ]
I had a dream about this. [ A short glimpse of his own wicked look. ] About getting to suck you. I remember being extremely disappointed when I woke up.
[ Also intensely sick of himself, but Gregor's not saying that, is resolutely turning this from an unpleasant memory to a better one in this new light. ]