Jude grinned at him, peculiarly unrestrained – maybe at that answer, or the friction, or at the feeling of Kieran’s hand in his hair.
And that made him almost wish he had asked for the reverse, because he had developed a particular fondness for Kieran’s hands, from far too much time spent observing them: an artist’s hands, smudged from his sketches or cramped from writing interviews or curled around a glass. But for now he focused on opening the bottle he’d been passed, and thinking about wanting to make this as good for Kieran as it could be.
“Like this?” Jude murmured, teasing still, as he slowly pushed in one slick finger. With his other hand, he hooked one of Kieran’s legs up around him to adjust the angle, glancing upwards for any signs of discomfort in his face or tension in his body. He had been too impatient to want to go slowly, before: but now he thought he wanted to be gentle, to do this well, to treat Kieran’s body with the veneration he deserved. Gradually, then, he inserted another, and kept on that way as Kieran relaxed around him and he grew more confident in reading Kieran’s responses in his reactions ‐ by his movements and breathing and expressions. Finally – when he seemed ready; when Jude’s patience had unravelled again – he pulled out of him completely and shifted position, asking him, now breathless with want: “Can I?”
And that made him almost wish he had asked for the reverse, because he had developed a particular fondness for Kieran’s hands, from far too much time spent observing them: an artist’s hands, smudged from his sketches or cramped from writing interviews or curled around a glass. But for now he focused on opening the bottle he’d been passed, and thinking about wanting to make this as good for Kieran as it could be.
“Like this?” Jude murmured, teasing still, as he slowly pushed in one slick finger. With his other hand, he hooked one of Kieran’s legs up around him to adjust the angle, glancing upwards for any signs of discomfort in his face or tension in his body. He had been too impatient to want to go slowly, before: but now he thought he wanted to be gentle, to do this well, to treat Kieran’s body with the veneration he deserved. Gradually, then, he inserted another, and kept on that way as Kieran relaxed around him and he grew more confident in reading Kieran’s responses in his reactions ‐ by his movements and breathing and expressions. Finally – when he seemed ready; when Jude’s patience had unravelled again – he pulled out of him completely and shifted position, asking him, now breathless with want: “Can I?”
