[ Safely through the door and with it shut behind them, Steve pushes Eddie up against it so he can kiss him properly instead of the pecks between shuffling footsteps. He wants to hear the way Eddie sighs when he's kissed breathless, wants to paint a blush across that pale skin of his. ]
Well, a masterpiece like you should be in a museum. [ It probably sounds like a line, and perhaps it's inspired by one, but Steve's tone is nothing but sincere as he mouths it against the side of Eddie's neck. He keeps kissing down until insistent hands pull at his clothes, and he leans back up to nip Eddie's bottom lip before stepping away and grabbing at the hem of his own shirt. ] Yes, sir!
( They've done this dance before, many times. It's not like Eddie hasn't tasted Steve's lips, or felt his skin underneath his fingertips. He knows how to make Steve moan, and beg for more. But there's something different in the air, now. While some might describe it as strings attached, it almost feels like the cage that had kept their relationship from blossoming had been unlocked and freeing them to be open with each other.
It heightens everything for Eddie. Every kiss, every flick of Eddie's tongue against Steve's, now that he knows it's not just about pleasure, it manages to create such an electrical feeling emanating between the two that he's sure the sparks could start a fire. He grins as he watches Steve start with his shirt, unable to fight the urge to watch. There's always something about getting to see Steve like this, and now it almost feels like he gets to look at him in a new light. The vulnerability, all the walls shattered. It's like seeing Steve for the first time all over again. ) Speaking of masterpieces that should be in a museum.
( Eddie realizes he should probably follow suit, tugging at his own shirt and lifting it up and over his head gracefully. Quickly, even, because try as he might, he still feels self-conscious about his scars. Less so, considering Steve is in a similar state, but still.
He's a work in progress. An unfinished work of art, the companion piece to Steve's, whose canvas he desperately wants to trace underneath his fingertips. So he does, not waiting for Steve to step back to him before reaching out and brushing his fingers across whatever skin he could get his hands on. )
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Well, a masterpiece like you should be in a museum. [ It probably sounds like a line, and perhaps it's inspired by one, but Steve's tone is nothing but sincere as he mouths it against the side of Eddie's neck. He keeps kissing down until insistent hands pull at his clothes, and he leans back up to nip Eddie's bottom lip before stepping away and grabbing at the hem of his own shirt. ] Yes, sir!
no subject
It heightens everything for Eddie. Every kiss, every flick of Eddie's tongue against Steve's, now that he knows it's not just about pleasure, it manages to create such an electrical feeling emanating between the two that he's sure the sparks could start a fire. He grins as he watches Steve start with his shirt, unable to fight the urge to watch. There's always something about getting to see Steve like this, and now it almost feels like he gets to look at him in a new light. The vulnerability, all the walls shattered. It's like seeing Steve for the first time all over again. ) Speaking of masterpieces that should be in a museum.
( Eddie realizes he should probably follow suit, tugging at his own shirt and lifting it up and over his head gracefully. Quickly, even, because try as he might, he still feels self-conscious about his scars. Less so, considering Steve is in a similar state, but still.
He's a work in progress. An unfinished work of art, the companion piece to Steve's, whose canvas he desperately wants to trace underneath his fingertips. So he does, not waiting for Steve to step back to him before reaching out and brushing his fingers across whatever skin he could get his hands on. )