Llewellyn Watts (
pocketpretzels) wrote2022-07-18 10:18 pm
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MHA #15, Tuesday Afternoon
Watts was in an exceptionally good mood today-
Or rather more accurately, Watts had been in an exceptionally good mood, when he'd gone to the post office to check for his regular correspondence with the fellows back home and had found a parcel waiting for him.
But now that he was back home and said parcel was sat on his dining room table he was in an exceptionally nervous mood. Not about the gift itself; he and Steven had already established that gifts between friends were acceptable, and if that were true than by the transitory property, gifts between two people who were seeing each other romantically was more than all right. (Jack had never been one for gifts, giving or receiving, aside from that one nearly-ill-fated cake, and his past relationships with women were even less help as a guide, for a number of reasons.) In any case, it wasn't the gift itself that was cause for his sudden bout of nerves. It was the manner in which he was currently planning on giving it to Steven.
Perhaps he should have waited until Thursday and taken it by the museum? Or Friday, even. Kept it in his desk at the Trooper Station and hoped Steven could swing by for lunch again.
But no. Instead of waiting, he'd called Steven, asked him to come over, with no pretext at all. Just. Telling him he had a gift to give and inviting him over, like that. That, he feared, might be terribly forward.
Thus the pacing he was doing back and forth in his bedroom, picking up his suit jacket and putting it on, and then discarding it, only to pick it up again and put it back on- and, well. You get the idea.
[ooc: for the sweetheart. up early in deference to timezones and vacations.]
Or rather more accurately, Watts had been in an exceptionally good mood, when he'd gone to the post office to check for his regular correspondence with the fellows back home and had found a parcel waiting for him.
But now that he was back home and said parcel was sat on his dining room table he was in an exceptionally nervous mood. Not about the gift itself; he and Steven had already established that gifts between friends were acceptable, and if that were true than by the transitory property, gifts between two people who were seeing each other romantically was more than all right. (Jack had never been one for gifts, giving or receiving, aside from that one nearly-ill-fated cake, and his past relationships with women were even less help as a guide, for a number of reasons.) In any case, it wasn't the gift itself that was cause for his sudden bout of nerves. It was the manner in which he was currently planning on giving it to Steven.
Perhaps he should have waited until Thursday and taken it by the museum? Or Friday, even. Kept it in his desk at the Trooper Station and hoped Steven could swing by for lunch again.
But no. Instead of waiting, he'd called Steven, asked him to come over, with no pretext at all. Just. Telling him he had a gift to give and inviting him over, like that. That, he feared, might be terribly forward.
Thus the pacing he was doing back and forth in his bedroom, picking up his suit jacket and putting it on, and then discarding it, only to pick it up again and put it back on- and, well. You get the idea.
[ooc: for the sweetheart. up early in deference to timezones and vacations.]
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His own hands, meanwhile, were teasing their way under Steven’s shirt, much as they had done the other day in the Trooper Station.
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But if these were the sorts of things that were on the table then Steven had no recourse but to slip one hand higher and start sliding his fingers through Llewellyn's hair.
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The hand in his hair felt nice, though, and Watts felt he ought to encourage that. And what better way than grinding up against Steven who was already pressed so very close?
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Since he'd briefly broken the kiss, Steven took a moment to look fondly into Llewellyn's eyes. He brought his hand down to Llewellyn's cheek to draw him near again for more kissing. And if this time there was an element of possessiveness in the gesture, as though Steven was thinking Mine, well there was good reason for it.
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Yours, was the message conveyed by the way Watts melted in to that kiss.
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He wasn't talking about the decor.
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"Not at all," he agreed. "But I'm not going anywhere." A beat. "Except, perhaps, to the couch. With you." As enjoyable as being pressed up against the doorway had been so far.
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As though Llewellyn asking Steven to stay had been a small quirk of chance, and not a very obvious indication of Llewellyn's feelings.
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