#hand content

The first time he notices it he's being a sly little fuck. He's discovered that you squirm at the taste of yourself on his lips after he eats you out, and so he thinks he’ll try something different this time to make you whine.

Much to his surprise you don't even make a face when he pulls slick fingers from between your thighs and presses them against your mouth. His eyes narrow, somehow surprised (but not really) at the way you actively accept the gesture, gripping his hand with both of your own to ensure he doesn't try and pull away.

Then he’ll hit you with the obligatory “Oh, really?” To which you don't bother to respond, too busy with the access he's granted you.

He thinks it's funny for a bit, but then he realizes later you lack the ability to be at all normal about it. It could be an act as simple as typing something up on the computer, demonstrating a suture technique at work, hell, setting up the coffee machine in the morning, anything benign– and there you are, watching, absorbing the sight, eyes narrowed in a very particular way.

“You freak,” he jokes.

And then, of course, is the way you have trained both yourself and him to fall asleep, so that no matter how you're curled up around him you get his entire arm and hand wherever you want them. You don't really care so long as his big warm palm is right up against your skin.