[ It's one of those arguments that goes round in circles, and he has a feeling it's going to keep doing that. His feeling, of course, is clearly wrong, because then Nate is fucking kissing him and his heart is pounding. He feels sick and he doesn't know what that is, or how to put any of it in order. Fuck but it feels good, and it shouldn't.
He wants it though, as soon as he's there with those soft fucking lips and the way he smells of soap and whatever that shit is he uses, he knows it. And it terrifies him. So he stiffens, and he snaps, lifting a hand up to Nate's chest and pushing him back sharply, turning and knocking him back against the back wall of the pub. ]
What the fuck are you doing? [ his voice is breathy, threaded, and the way he looks at him, well it's somewhere lost between anger and lust. ]
no subject
He wants it though, as soon as he's there with those soft fucking lips and the way he smells of soap and whatever that shit is he uses, he knows it. And it terrifies him. So he stiffens, and he snaps, lifting a hand up to Nate's chest and pushing him back sharply, turning and knocking him back against the back wall of the pub. ]
What the fuck are you doing? [ his voice is breathy, threaded, and the way he looks at him, well it's somewhere lost between anger and lust. ]