#folkvangrd

        This, this is what sparked before and now. Before, Alfonse could at least look at Sheik (Sundira, as he had been told in one of their recent personal encounters) without feeling flustered and awkward. Before he did not stare; did not at times get distracted throughout the day thinking of the other’s physical features (his eyes, so full of fire and emotion; his smile, his smirk, anyone would be distracted!), did not become oddly fixated when the other trained with his fellow Sheikah (dear gods it was unfair how slender and flexible his body was), before none of that happened.

        After, now, however…

        Alfonse was attempting to keep from doing such things. To keep from feeling such things. Not only because he did want to disrespect his budding friendship with Sundira by ogling and objectifying him, but admitting to himself that that is exactly what he had been doing was terrifying so it was better to simply shove all of his emotions regarding this into a box never to be touched upon again. Ever. Which worked, for a short time… Until he had been offered the opportunity to partake in the aforementioned Sheikah training and was literally touched by the man almost haunting his thoughts.

      “By the three- how did you even tangle this?” 

     Alfonse didn’t know what he should focus on, honestly. Everything was bad; attempting to concentrate on Sundira’s exasperated mutterings only made him realize how nice his voice was (low and smooth; restrained with formality and don’t even get him started on the rare bouts of laughter he’d heard), he couldn’t even ignore Sundira because of how close he was (close enough to feel the warmth from their bodies being so gently pressed together; close enough to make Alfonse’s face feel as though it would melt from the heat of his embarrassed blush), and the worst of it all was how much he liked the contact.

        He had been given a traditional Sheikah uniform to wear and while he hadn’t intentionally tangled part of it, he was struggling to make himself regret it because Sundira was fixing it for him and he was very torn on how he felt about that. He knew he liked it, but that in itself was the problem. The Sheikah’s touch was sure and gentle as he smoothed out the material of Alfonse’s uniform, causing minute shivers to dance along his back, just having Sundira’s hands on him was making his breathing heavier someone s a v e h i m fuck-

        He didn’t want the touches to end; wanted them to be bolder in fact. Or at least, his body wanted that; wanted to feel fingers brushing through his hair, wanted to feel their bodies pressed more firmly together, hell the thought of them pressing their lips together the thought of the sounds they could pull from each other (the thought of Sundira whimpering with pleasure had him dizzy he was doomed)-

       “There, now you’re presentable.” Alfonse almost gasped with the need to breathe after Sundira finally stepped away from him, his head spinning; blood thrumming and heart racing as he struggled to keep himself composed. He definitely couldn’t even glance in Sundira’s direction now, honestly he was surprised he even managed to function well enough to smooth down the front of his uniform and give a half-hearted laugh at his own expense. 

       It had been amusing when he couldn’t even dress himself properly, but that amusement had long since faded and now he just wanted to return to his room so he could calm down and think for even just a minute. This had been brewing in the depths of his mind for some time now; the interested stares he’d been giving Sundira, the quick inhale of breath when Sundira would fix him with that intense focused stare during conversations that made Alfonse know he had the blond’s complete attention-but this?

      This out of control physical reaction to Sundira, it was new and terrifying and not allowed he needed to get himself under control what was he going to do…?