barrayar | I am junking up this beautiful community with this junk

[ Solace, indeed. Not enough to instantly heal him, but a real and true bit of progress, however small. Someday, with enough of that feeling, the hole might close over completely. At last he manages to come back to himself, the shock of it dying back down to steady pleasantness. Still a little teary-eyed, though, as he tilts his head back for Gregor.

And - has to laugh just a little. It sort of ruins that intimate gesture halfway through, making him bob up and down a bit while Gregor is kissing him. The mental image of Gregor wanting Miles just for sex is beyond laughable. As if they could tease just that thread out of their friendship, when the friendship was there on so many levels long before all this. Wherever this leads, Miles has faith that there is a relationship tied up in it somewhere.

(He has the abrupt, dizzying urge to propose on the spot.) ]

Of course not. And of course I knew you cared for me before, but - you ought to feel this Gregor. It's incredible.

[ He tries to reflect it back, not quite able to grasp the nuance of it. Like trying to capture a sunset with crayons. ]

[Usually there's some question of whether it's returned when someone effectively proclaims their love. Gregor's never really doubted it, though-- that fierce loyalty is love and he's known it all along-- and if the tenor of it as romantic or sexual or platonic or fraternal had not been quite defined before, he doesn't particularly feel as if he needs to define it now, either. No, for Gregor, the point of this is getting to express his feelings.

He doesn't need it reflected. He revels in feeling himself cause this change in Miles, making him teary-eyed and then laugh at the ridiculousness of the comment, as intended. Gregor smiles against his skin and then kisses it again. Of course there's a relationship. There's no point in having the casual-or-serious discussion -- they both know the answer to that.

(If one of them were female, Gregor would say yes and damn the politics about marrying a Vorkosigan. He'd already have thought about it, already nervously wondered about plans. As it is... they'll have to be happy with what they have. And he is happy right now, unfathomably, shockingly happy, though the whole thing feels precarious, delicately balanced and able to be toppled over with a misstep.)]

I'm feeling you feeling it, which is better, [he corrects him.] I've been feeling it for a while now.

[But, to make sure they don't go down that path, he whispers into his ear,] What do you think about getting off the floor and out of the kitchen? [That precariousness is holding, though Gregor knows he's challenging it with this suggestion. But he feels greedy, swept away, covetous. That want is returning, setting up a low thrum, turning the fullness of his love into a darker amber.]

[ Bright, brilliant love the whole way - nothing really changed here, other than the electrical crackle making Miles all tingly with other feelings. He'll have to grow that other part of himself to match in intensity. (As much as he is desperately wanting Gregor right now, he is still rather used to being heterosexual. It will take him time to find out what else he likes.) He laughs again as Gregor leans in to whisper. ]

Why not? It's clean, isn't it?

[ Completely joking here; he absolutely demands they find at least somewhere soft to do this on so as not leave him a mess of bone aches afterwards. (He has a sudden - fleeting - temptation to forgo the bone aches entirely. But this is new enough territory without him adding complications to the scale involved.) A bed would be best, but he's impatient now, hardly wanting to get up much less go all the way upstairs ...

His gaze alights on the couch in the living room. The damn awkward couch that he'd felt so guilty about after their mind dive. He has an even stronger temptation to conquer it now by having something literally post-coital atop it instead of metaphorically. Couch, yes. He doesn't try to put the request into words - just gently directs Gregor's attention there.

He lingers for a moment over that smoky amber trickle. Takes it in as greedily as Gregor gives it. ]

[If there is one thing Gregor doesn't doubt, it's Miles growing in intensity as he gets more used to something.

That being said, however similarly impatient Gregor is, he's still more patient than Miles-- and shyer, besides. The idea of christening that infernal couch with actual sex is very tempting, and he sees the humor in it, but picturing someone interrupting them makes him want to shrivel up and avoid people for a week just at the thought. The only thing that's getting him to make lascivious suggestions like this in the first place is that it's Miles and he feels utterly, unquestioningly safe and comfortable with him. He'd let him into the deepest parts of his soul, and come out the better for it... But no one else has attained that privilege and sex is going to have to be done carefully enough for him as it is.

He sends that sense over, of only you, just you, I don't want anyone else to see me-- in itself a gesture of trust, since Gregor doesn't ordinarily admit to shyness this directly-- and then a spark of dry humor. Later, though. One day. When we're sure we won't be interrupted.

Gregor gently starts to extricate himself from him, making the difficult first move to unstick themselves and get upright. The floor really isn't comfortable, though, and Gregor wants space and to be able to relax for this.

I want to enjoy you very thoroughly. A hint of wicked promise.]

[ He finds it very hard to argue with Gregor on that point. The couch, as satisfying as it would be to conquer, would not perhaps be satisfying to enjoy. And the image of, say, his clone brother happening upon them is a little too much - god, perish the thought. His own thoughts waver between embarrassment and jealousy at the thought. Only you, just you indeed. He goes around to his mental links as well while he's thinking about it. Aral's, neatly closed as usual other than their pain share, good. His brother's, non-existent. Also good. His mother's ...

Well that's wide open. An entirely different sort of embarrassment suffuses Miles for a moment as he steadily, quietly clicks it shut. Hoping to god that his mother didn't see any of that. After that even the process of disentangling himself from Gregor isn't so bad. His joints pop faintly as he levers himself back up to his feet; he eyes the wine bottle on the table for a moment before ultimately deciding he doesn't care if it sits out. Maybe someone else will drink it.

God, he's still embarrassed. Better chase it down quick with something more fun or he'll lose the whole thread of this thing. ]

Bedroom, then?

[ Not that there's many other choices, but he likes the image regardless. Picturing Gregor in bed, with all those nice clothes peeled away ... that warms him right back up again. ]

Edited 2016-01-29 03:06 (UTC)

[When he feels Miles do it, it spurs Gregor to automatically check his links as well, and he tightens them all down ever further, that last nudge to go from able-to-be-knocked-on to fully shut and impenetrable. Normally he tries to keep himself at least accessible... not right now. This is for him.

Distracted as he is with that, he doesn't notice that Miles had left his link open with his mother. Which is really for the best because Gregor would just get diverted. Instead he's following Miles, abandoning the wine bottle and trying to stifle a sudden attack of nerves.

Is he really doing this?] Bedroom, [he agrees, because apparently he is, though his stomach is fluttering and turning over. What if this goes terribly? Gregor hasn't had sex since Cavilo and not very many times before that, either. Make that twice, aside from her. It'd seemed fine when he was mouthing at his neck a second ago, but who knows how things will be when they graduate to intimate contact, clothes off, in bed...

There's a whole array of things that could go wrong and Gregor is trying very hard not to think about them. He trusts Miles-- but he doesn't trust himself. His own reactions and desires are a mystery to him. He's never been honest with someone in bed in his life.

They end up in Miles's room by the simple expedient of it being the closer one. Of course, the interior of it is nothing new to Gregor, so there's nothing to distract him from closing the door and turning back to Miles, who's probably been feeling his nerves flutter up and torment him. His whole bearing has closed off just a little again, unable to help himself with what he plans on saying.

Tentatively, and again only because it's Miles and no one else, he says,] I'm not sure how this will go for me. But I'd really... like to find out. And I really want to touch you.

[ Nerves, huh ... Miles is feeling it a bit too, and not just reflected off of Gregor. As he sits on the bed, looking up at Gregor, he can't help but flutter somewhat in return. This is Gregor he's talking about here, not some girl he'd messed up with on Beta Colony, nor Tex or anyone else he's tried since coming here. Gregor, his best friend. Gregor, the emperor.

It's a lot to live up to now that the moment is here. Maybe they should have gone slower. Maybe he really should have slept around with a few men first just to make sure he knows what he's doing. But Miles doesn't do slow; it's either a complete stop or blazing speed, with nothing neutral in between. If he thinks of it like that, then the choice is obvious. Full speed ahead. Sort out the rest later, and hope for luck on the fall downwards ...

All of that filters through him clear as day. Normally, he might hide it, but he feels a responsibility to Gregor to be honest right now. Let Gregor see he's nervous too, so that they can be nervous together and get over it. It reminds him a bit of the Dendarii, in a way. Why not channel just a tiny bit of Naismith to get the ball rolling? ]

Touching first then. [ He decides with an air of confidence, as if he'd just figured out some amazing secret. ] Everything else we'll figure out as we go. I'll tell you.

[ Gregor will be able to feel it with Miles wide open like this. Instant feedback for every move he makes. ]

[Gregor is much more inclined to slow than Miles is, but half the reason he'd fallen for him so hard is that he likes getting to throw caution and prudence to the wind. Every step of his life has had to be carefully calculated, with an eye to the ramifications, not just for him but for everyone. Getting to have this one area where he's allowed to be reckless and impulsive is already heady, pushing him to follow Miles's pace rather than put on the brakes.

But it's interesting, getting to feel that Miles is nervous, too, he just works through it and pushes forward. Gregor never would have guessed that without this link. Some of his own anxiety settles again, and he steps forward, closing the distance so he's not so far. He smiles down at him fondly.]

Please do. I don't mind being told. [Which is a subtle way of saying he doesn't mind being told what to do. Gregor feels he might have to put that out there, in case Miles needs that clarified. Then he sits beside him, instinctively finding his hand with one of his, and has an idea where to start.]

How about I do what I wanted to earlier, that made me pull my hand away? I had a specific urge.

[Gregor has a suspicion that Miles's need to know things extends to knowing things like this. Getting to be playful like this, feeling safe enough for that, is a completely new experience for Gregor and it's coaxing that amber-threaded lust out of him again.]

[ Curiosity is a powerful drive for Miles, even more so than the prospect of sex alone. Combined the effect is rather like a searchlight, suddenly and blindingly concentrated on one spot. Oh yes. He is interested. ]

Let's try it then. Start there.

[ He squeezes Gregor's hand in a way he hopes is bracing. To bolster it, he shoots up another bright flare of trust, utterly, for anything Gregor wants to do. More than anything he wants to make sure Gregor is happy in bed. (Which means Miles needs to be happy too, or risk Gregor being bogged down in Miles' sadness. Win-win to do something that they both like.) ]

[Gregor has been hiding so much that there's a lot to be curious about, though that agreed upon stipulation, their mutual first priority, of making each other happy is going to be a barrier to him revealing most of it. This, however, this is simple and innocent. This time, Gregor can think about it without more than a flicker of habitual self-directed revulsion, there and then gone, shuffled away. He doesn't actually think homosexual acts are awful, it's just... him.

But with Miles right here, it's so easy to sink into that trust and blinding interest and dismiss it altogether. He angles himself to be facing Miles directly, then sets his captured hand on his thigh, turns it over so it's palm up. He examines his wrist and hand for a moment, the smallness of his bones and the fine webbing of scars, and then he strokes his fingertips down the pulse-point of his wrist. Gregor's fingers are long and elegant and unmarked or calloused in any way; they glide along his skin smoothly.

He strokes again, slowly, dragging down into his palm and unfurling his fingers with delicate precision. Quite obviously learning what he feels like, taking it all in, eyes fixed. Inwardly, the pulse of appreciative desire grows stronger, a warm undercurrent, as he finally picks up his unfurled hand by the wrist and presses a kiss to the vulnerable, scarred flesh there, whisper-soft.]

[ Miles' wrist is very small in comparison to Gregor's long fingers; Gregor could easily encircle the narrowest point with his thumb and forefinger. It's strangely vulnerable, having Gregor touching a part of him that would normally not be an intimate on, and making it into an intimate gesture. He shivers lightly with pleasure. Especially when Gregor lifts Miles' hand to his mouth. Miles finds himself tracking Gregor with his eyes the whole way, his pulse quickening.

There's a flash of mental pain too - it's not all surgery scars there, and he remembers Bothari coming in the door to patch him up with alarming speed and steadiness. He has to swallow, hotly, as Gregor's ministrations fight with that memory, putting it to rest for now. He doesn't have to imagine Gregor as a healing force. He is one in truth, balming Miles' issues a bit at a time. Despite the reminders of unhappier moment, Miles is desperately glad to have it overwritten. By Gregor who wants him, Gregor who would never reject him ... quiet joy bubbles up from deep inside him, made sweeter by the pain it had to get through to surface. ]

Keep doing that, please. [ He says, feeling the need to verbalize. To reassure Gregor that this really is all right. ]

[He feels the complicated ugliness roil through Miles, arising from some deep store that Gregor only ever glimpses in him and has never plumbed the depths of, and from the first he doesn't really believe it was about him, or a sign to stop. It's proven true when it subsides into wonder and happiness, when Miles verbalizes, which he does appreciate-- having any ambiguity taken away.

He's reminded of his own flash of revulsion when he'd gone to do this, now similarly gone and replaced with better things.] Putting ghosts to rest, [he murmurs against his skin. Maybe some day it can be only the two of them, and no ghosts.] I want you, Miles. Just you. [A plain, unweighed declaration, as much verbal reassurance as what Miles had given him.

Gregor does keep going then, places another lingering kiss on the center of his palm. And another, an inch further down, and another on the tip of his forefinger, which he takes wholly into his mouth to suckle on. Turning this from a romantic gesture into an equally sexual one and he means every angle of it.]

Just me and no ghosts, eh? [ He murmurs back, equally quiet - he means to say that Gregor wants him to be happy, and not that he wouldn't accept Miles' ghosts. Of course. It's going to take a lot for both of them to relax in the end, even if Miles' issues aren't quite as stark as Gregor's, both are haunting ...

He decides, instead, to focus on Gregor again. The kissing was thrilling; the sucking is nothing short of an electric shock. He shivers as it goes through him, watching Gregor through half-lidded eyes. He abruptly sees the appeal of the gesture, oh yes. Recalling certain other body parts, which are definitely awake now.

Is this what you wanted to do? he sends across their link, considering that Gregor's mouth is occupied. Warm approval ripples through him along with the statement: gentle, pleased, and encouraging. ]

[ I didn't get this far, he admits. I just wanted to touch your wrist. Putting my lips to it felt daring.

Gregor kept himself pressed small, his wants correspondingly minimized. Having all this freedom all at once is dizzying. There's shyness, a tentativeness to him that he isn't showing physically, in equal measure to the blistering want coursing through him. Earlier it'd overtaken him completely, but now he's had time to think rationally, and it's more balanced.

That doesn't stop him from taking in more of his finger, rubbing at the base of it with his, adding just a hint of teeth to see how he likes that. He likes feeling that response in Miles, those parts coming awake. He knows exactly what he's doing.]

[ God, he absolutely does, and Miles can feel that. Another electric shudder goes through him, especially at the scraping of teeth; Gregor gets a brief flash of one thing that Miles enjoys, which is being thoroughly roughed up. Gregor above him, Gregor working with his mouth and teeth again, like he did at the hollow of Miles' neck - Miles burns with a need to feel every bit of what's going on, even (especially) if it leaves him battered afterwards.

He tempers the image even as it unspools, though, knowing that they ought to go a bit slower than that. For both their sakes. What Gregor's doing is good too. Yes. Exceptionally good. He reaches his other hand for Gregor's head, running his fingers through the emperor's hair.

It's a good idea. All of it is. ]

[He stills, Miles's finger slipping out of his mouth at that fantasy. There's a rush back from him in response, a convoluted mess of uncertain fear (he's so likely to hurt Miles, doing those things) mixed up with fierce, hard need that has reached a boiling point having been denied for so long. Gregor wants to rough him up-- oh, yes. There's no misinterpreting that bit of what comes over the link. But likewise he's afraid of himself in doing so, a hundred vile ghosts of his own tied into it. Miles is right, they need to go slower.

But maybe... maybe if he's feeling that Miles wants that from him, unprovoked, unasked for, he can believe that it's the truth. That Gregor, as long as he's careful, wouldn't be doing anything bad by giving it to him. It seems too much what he wants to be real, and yet earlier Miles had liked his teeth on his neck.

All of it? he challenges back, all that dark intent and churning conflict behind the words. Don't say something you don't mean, tacit beneath it.

He needs to test it. Test his sincerity, that it's not just fantasies. But not-- not too fast, not too much at once, like Miles had thought. Their telepathy gives him another preliminary way to check, and Gregor opens up the fastened box in the corner of his mind that he hides from Miles and lets one vile part of himself slither out: his greed to have power over him, to feel him vulnerable beneath him and accepting. To Gregor, who's been ingrained to hate power, it's horrifying-- and it's exhilarating to imagine that certainty, that there is nothing hidden from him, no weakness he could show, loneliness eradicated. Safety.

This is what you'd be getting yourself into, he seems to say, checking-- me wanting control over you that I am not, actually, meant to be afforded.]

[ A little dangerous, in other words. Gregor, tall dark and dangerous ... The flare of desire that results is a well-worn one indeed. Not just Gregor, or special to him, but also familiar territory. Relatively safe, for all that it might be physically risky. It makes his surge of agreement that much easier to boil up.

All of it, he returns fiercely. There are things he must explore about his sexuality, that he's less sure of, but that's an easy one. You don't quite understand what it means for me to feel that. Because the flip side of that intense physicality, of being utterly at someone else's mercy, is the mercy. Knowing for sure that Gregor truly wants him is the balm that Miles needs to keep going. Gregor doing it for Miles first and foremost, and then himself, is beyond attractive. It adds a ridiculously hot layer to it in fact.

As fast and hard and rough as you can, he continues, blissfully feeding Gregor more mental images. Remember how I stop feeling my body when you're holding onto my pain? It's like that. I forget it. Paradoxically, maybe - he's feeling so much that he can't focus on any one thing, and thus it all slides into beautiful oblivion. ]

[He's right, he didn't understand until Miles showed him. And he probably won't completely until he experiences it, does it and feels that acceptance and enjoyment right inside his head. But even now, feeling that excitement at the idea, eating up all those mental images with a starved hunger, calls out agreement from him.

He can't deny that it'd be for Miles, not himself. Somehow that shade of it had escaped him before, startles him now to realize it-- makes it almost forgivable. Gregor wants to take him apart... but not to see him reduced. He wants to break him down so that he is sure his every component piece has his mark on it, his thumb print, claiming but also proving to Miles how much he loves him, that he can do it with such precise, directed care.

All of that echoes in response to what Miles shares, and finally Gregor answers, humbled, Then I'll try to learn to let that part out. Without panicking myself. It helps, to poke some fun at it, though he still feels twisted up a bit imagining himself actually doing it. For today, I just want to-- to feel you. I want to feel what it's like in your head when you come. When I'm the one who makes you come.

And he places another kiss on his hand, this one oddly chaste in counterpoint to his words, solicitous. Will you let me?]

[ That seems a reasonable compromise. Miles considers it - likes it, he decides, and thrills at the novelty of it at least. He's just so used to their link he hadn't even considered it as an option to enhance their physical relationship, other than being blissfully aware of each other's minds as they go along here. Most importantly this seems safe for Gregor. A good first step. Yes.

It doesn't stop him from grinning a bit wickedly at Gregor, flipping through some other, less taxing options for managing that with Miles. Hands and mouth are both safe enough if they don't want to go too far. He also reaches out to Gregor, tugging him a bit closer in the link. An invitation to step over the line into Miles' head, rather than Miles bursting into Gregor's like a whirlwind as he always does.

Of course. Let's find out how it feels together. ]

[Safe for Gregor, and safe for Miles, who he hasn't forgotten is finding out some new things about his sexuality here. Gregor meanwhile has had several months to come to terms with it, and from before that, really, he'd always had the strong suspicion he wasn't interested in women exclusively. But he knew he'd have to get married eventually, and anyway, he wasn't going to chance starting any rumors that could link him to his father. No, he'd put that whole thread aside.

They're both catching up to each other in different ways, so best not to dive in too quickly. Which does not in any way mean he is less excited for it. He smiles helplessly back at that wicked grin, and accepts that invitation, easing his way into his mind with care and curiosity. Gregor doesn't spend that much time directly in here, given that Miles is always bursting in and is welcome to do it, but now he settles himself in comfortably. The instant, profound feeling of safety is enough to take his breath away.

It shocks him how much more urgency he feels, once sure he's safe, his desire going from a steady undercurrent to a river. He's never experienced that before; his skin prickles with the insistent urge to touch, and with this newfound confidence, he slides gracefully off the bed and down to the floor, sinking to his knees between Miles's. Gregor rests his hands on top of them, eyes meeting his.]

May I? [he asks quietly, out loud, for the verbal confirmation. There's no question what he's asking-- and God but how he wants to, wants it like this, even, with him on his knees and Miles understanding every connotation of how much he's thumbing his nose at all the restraint he usually keeps himself under.]

[ The shift is not a terrible one, at least, to consider one man in addition to his own oblivious heterosexuality. Their stint on Earth has at least introduced him to the concept in a way that isn't Betan, and the Naismith persona has done enough casual flirting for it to trickle back to the Vorkosigan side. The trick will be when he has to identify as something other than heterosexual-with-one-exception. Something to work out later. Something beyond their scope for now.

He welcomes Gregor into his mind gladly, doing the mental equivalent of wrapping both arms around his emperor and holding him close. Gregor can easily feel the texture of Miles' mind at this level of proximity: bright and pulsing with energy on the surface, but teetering above an abyss. There is no subtle shift from top to bottom, no ocean to fall through to get to the core. Miles is all chasms, utter freefall until the impact at the bottom. But the heights are so lovely and bright and warm - Gregor in particular is guided to a safe place for both of them, with the cliff edges far enough away to keep from rolling the both of them off accidentally.

Which is good, because Miles' attention is immediately elsewhere. On Gregor kneeling before him, undoing the height differential between them in one move. He likes that too. He likes nearly any spot on the scale, really. Miles draws in a sharp little breath, his mind twisting into fiery, anticipatory knots. ]

Please. Yes.

[ 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. ]

[ Strange how having one's feet tended to can seem so tenderly intimate. Just like kissing Miles' wrists. There's no particular spark at the act - Miles scratches that off on some mental checklist in the back of his head - until Gregor gets to the leg braces. That sets off something of a rather different caliber. Not sexual, but intimate. The braces seem to nearly burn him as Gregor slides them off and sets them aside. And then Gregor's hands linger there for a moment, and it's nearly too much. The appreciation without being reduced to an object, or having his personhood denied ... it's such a small gesture, but it leaves him shaking for a moment.

He's still trembling slightly when Gregor rests his hands on Miles' knees. That enthusiasm doesn't flag - the thrum of keep going doesn't diminish - but there's a second level of effect going on. One of his ghost perching close, to see if this becomes an unpleasant memory turned to a happy one. Just like Gregor, in that respect.

In that context, Gregor mentioning the dream is exactly right. It discharges some of that electric nervousness, giving Miles a chance to ground himself. ]

We can fix that. [ He murmurs the words. ] If you would only help me with my pants ...

[ One day Gregor is going to spend a truly luxurious amount of time just running his hands over every part of him, suffusing every touch with acceptance and admiration, aided by massage oil and some guesses at technique from watching videos. His own direct attempt to be a panacea to Miles's body image issues. That day is not today, but that response to just taking off his leg braces reminds him of how often he's felt that urge. He decides not to float it to Miles, both to keep it a surprise and because he thinks the suggestion alone might overwhelm him right now.

Gregor shoots him a smirk -- not a commonly seen expression on his face -- and consciously puts aside teasing him too much, though that's another fantasy he's going to look forward to fulfilling. This one he does share with Miles. It still sends a thrill through him every time he realizes he can plan on it now. ]

Have you had this done before? [ he asks curiously, because really, he doesn't know. He's only twenty. Gregor's hands creep up his thighs to his waistband, unerringly find the button on his pants, and ease it open. His own anticipation is shifting inside him eagerly as he moves to the zipper, sliding it down... ]

[ Probably best not to; that will be a treasure to approach slowly and gently, under exactly the right conditions. And all the better for it.

Miles snorts a bit at the teasing. Really, Gregor. Who do you think he is? He may shudder to contemplate the outcome of his previous relationships, but he's had them. Had this much, at least. ]

Not quite like this. But yes. It's a bit less - committing than some other things one might try on a first effort.

[ Not that there was any risk of getting a young woman from Beta Colony pregnant. It was also easier on him, still learning his body and its limitations. He didn't want to break anything. This, at least, would have to be rough to the point of unpleasantness for him to risk injury. His breath shudders as Gregor works the zipper down, shifting his hips in anticipation of his own. He is ridiculously hard right now with all this build up. ]

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