He could feel himself holding his breath... and what was he going to do, exactly, if Lestrange said no?
But he didn’t. Theo’s mouth was dry with anticipation, but he exhaled, softened his shoulders - if nothing else, this time would test the theory. He didn’t have any excuses, today, about being keyed-up about the match or about being surprised by it; even if this time was different, if Lestrange kissed him and he felt nothing or it felt wrong then he could chalk it up as a mistake and... at least he would be sure.
Lestrange’s hands were on his shoulder and his wrist now, and Theo was as aware of it as he had been last time, leaning into it, leaning towards him. This kiss was more forceful than the last, no uncertainty in it, and so there was nothing for it but to relax, to give himself into it entirely. And now there was a new tightness in his chest - like breathlessness, but more acute - and a faint flutter in his stomach and maybe Lestrange was just a good kisser, but it did feel right.
And he desperately didn’t want it to be over yet. So Theodore lifted a hand to Lestrange’s face to hold him there, savouring the press of his jawline against his palm, the back of his neck against his fingertips - he wasn’t sure if it was Lestrange’s pulse he could feel racing or his own.
But he didn’t. Theo’s mouth was dry with anticipation, but he exhaled, softened his shoulders - if nothing else, this time would test the theory. He didn’t have any excuses, today, about being keyed-up about the match or about being surprised by it; even if this time was different, if Lestrange kissed him and he felt nothing or it felt wrong then he could chalk it up as a mistake and... at least he would be sure.
Lestrange’s hands were on his shoulder and his wrist now, and Theo was as aware of it as he had been last time, leaning into it, leaning towards him. This kiss was more forceful than the last, no uncertainty in it, and so there was nothing for it but to relax, to give himself into it entirely. And now there was a new tightness in his chest - like breathlessness, but more acute - and a faint flutter in his stomach and maybe Lestrange was just a good kisser, but it did feel right.
And he desperately didn’t want it to be over yet. So Theodore lifted a hand to Lestrange’s face to hold him there, savouring the press of his jawline against his palm, the back of his neck against his fingertips - he wasn’t sure if it was Lestrange’s pulse he could feel racing or his own.
