#vaebled

If V had known that it was Garrett's habit to walk about his home half dressed, V might have considered more thoroughly whether it was wise to abide with him after all. Not because of offense, even less because of disgust: but because he'd seen in the demon someone painfully attractive and he hadn't the first clue what to do with himself about it. Until recently, he hadn't really gotten to think about anything like that… But this man he had unmistakable feelings for started to slip back into his comforts, and V awoke to the reality of things: that Garrett was built handsomely and V's eyes were prone to linger. He'd made it so embarrassingly obvious; the way he'd tried so hard to look at anything apart from tasteful contours, tattooed shoulders and tight muscles—ah, no!

He was short on breath and short on words. With his cheeks dusted in pink and his head dipped, he appeared as though a perfectly nervous schoolboy. And he was. He didn't know how to proceed, if he even should, and faltered before Garrett with two fingers pressed to his clavicle. So ashamed to admit that he liked the feeling, touching him where muscle was solid and far more fit than V's would ever be… Were he not so self-conscious of his own inexperience, he'd have allowed his hand, even both, to roam. He very much wanted to, but new lovers so far spent only meager months together. What would he think of me?

“Whaddya want, pretty boy?”

No, don't make it worse!

That purr had no business slipping out, yet V was driven to find an answer. He scrambled for it, hesitating to look his beau in the eye but managing to steel a small part of himself for it; and ultimately his head angled back, eyes met the opposite pair, and V, parting his jaws but saying nothing, blushed warmly at the countenance which so openly watched and waited, and smiled on. Garrett gave him ample opportunity to make his wishes known, to speak or do whatever was desired. That was the purpose of their stalemate: V knew enough about him to know, at least, this one thing. Foolishly, he gawped while a comforting brow pressed to his.

“'M not gonna judge you, swee'heart. Or maybe you'd like a suggestion?”

What was V supposed to do with that? How could he have possibly responded? His eyes slid to watch his own hand, mouth only slightly open as he contemplated and attempted to clear his mind. What did Garrett think then; that his own boyfriend did not anticipate their prospects, or did not...like him to such an extent? That perhaps this was too much for V to take, too soon? Did he begin to think poorly of himself only because V hesitated so plainly? The truth could not have been any more the contrary! And still Garrett gave V's arms a reassuring squeeze, leaving his forehead to itself. That might have done something: V's fingers traveled only then, but only ghosting down along the breastbone and no farther than an inch from where they started. He lost heart quickly.

V should have gone farther, or touched more where his fingers sat. Shit, he wanted to touch Garrett. “I don't know,” he finally said, uncertain even in voice as though he were conflicted. But...he did know, didn't he? At the very least, he'd had an idea. His beau seemed to perceive the same or he wouldn't have taken V's hand, grinning like a dope. There came such an open invitation to fall from his tongue, encouraging in the most selfless, most courteous manner.

V had to look at him. Uncertain, insecure, desiring now a little instruction or, or…

Maybe...maybe it was due. Maybe it was about time they take their relationship a little bit farther. But it was so sudden, wasn't it? They were presently at “first base” as V understood it, and even then only kept affection to tame kisses. To now...touch Garrett's body? V could not even imagine that. He sought a guarantee, asking him whether going on would be all right. “Are you sure?” But it was more for the principle than for the sake of his indulgence. Was it really acceptable to do this? Did Garrett really mean it when he invited V's hands so unashamedly?

Does he know who he's talking to? Does he know me well enough? Does he really trust me? For this? Is it really all right to feel this way? Should I want physical affection so soon? Should I want it with...other men? I know it isn't inappropriate anymore. Men have flirted with me, I just didn't want them. But here is Garrett. Him I want. I love him. But why do I hesitate? Am I afraid of him? Do I sense insincerity? He's the first person I've trusted this much. I'm sure my love is real, I've never felt this way before—but then I've never had a friend. I might think it's love when it's not, but I don't know what else to call it. If I love him, why do I worry? I enjoy him, I kiss him, I want only to be with him. Then why am I behaving this way? I don't think I really know what I'm talking about. I don't know why I hesitate, why I'm so shy with him. I feel like I'm going to do something wrong. I worry I might disappoint him, or embarrass him, or embarrass myself—and then what would he think of me?! What if I try too hard and I appear insincere to him? I wish I could show him. I want to touch him right now. He smiles at me like nothing should be wrong. Maybe I really don't know what I want. I don't know, I don't know…

I want to stop thinking.

Garrett was agreeable even in the face of V's crippling insecurity. He had an answer to give through a laugh. “I wouldn't be sayin' so.”

Why had that not been enough to encourage the warlock? In all of his contemplation, he failed to notice the pounding of his heart. He hoped he wasn't trembling. “So you would want me to?”

“As long as it's what you want.”

“But do you want me to? Would you like that?”

That grin again. V may come to hate it before long, it charmed him so effectively. With it, a genuine response: “Of course. It'd be nice. Anything's nice comin' from you.”

V felt a firmer squeeze around his hand but it went right to his head. The pink in his cheeks deepened, his eyes descended again, and he felt like he ought to curl into a ball and hide himself. But he rather did the opposite, standing firm to rouse spirit, to free his hand, to drag the pads of his digits farther along welcoming skin. The touch was almost methodical; slow and gentle, really only a faint-hearted caress. But it was progress. Sadly, it all came to a halt when V stopped at the navel—just a hair's breadth from abdominal muscles he may have liked to touch most of all—and thought he couldn't go on. He wasn't sure where he would go from there.

“V, you don't have to do anything you don't feel like doing.”

“I like you, though...” He looked back up, his expression unreadable. “I mean...you feel nice.” He was heartened by the fresh smile come upon Garrett's face, a genuine sort of blush that was nearly imperceptible. But V had caught it, and he himself had a ghost of a smile to share for it.

The demon purred his thanks and replaced his hands to V's back for the purpose of drawing him nearer. He probably had a kiss to give, but he would have to hold on to it for a little longer. “If you wanna feel away, you're free.” Of course he invited again. “Whatever makes you happy.”

“You talk too much.”

“Do I?”

V saw uncertainty in him, much as he tried to mask it; but V had a wily smile to give that, just a brief flash of impishness before it melted into insecurity of his own. He thought it was so endearing, Garrett so cute to expose self-consciousness. It should have given him the courage to go on, but he had to be frank with himself. V simply wasn't ready. Those extra steps he thought about, wanted to take—it was too early for them. Still too early. If the mere thought of touching his beau daunted him, he really could not have been prepared for...anything more.

They'd only met so recently… What kind of romance could either of them expect if they rushed through the motions? It might have been terribly old-fashioned of him, but V thought these things were meant to simmer before boiling. And yet he wanted to hurry through it all just the same. Hypocritical and eager! But such was love, wasn't it? And without really intending to, V might have found the answer to all of his questions, the cause of all his doubt. But certainty wasn't for the taking today, and his head preferred vacancy. There were many more feelings in him. To stand inches from Garrett with their eyes bound, hands on one another…

“Sometimes, but I'd hate it if you didn't.” V's answer had come at last. Some small delay but worth the wait, he thought. You care enough to want me to feel comfortable.

He tried to smile, but with its return his eyes left. His hand ultimately followed suit, though rather than abandon the demon entirely, V brought his arms about Garrett's neck in an embrace that still permitted distance. Not because he couldn't hug Garrett, but because he wanted eye contact and the attention that came with it. Still, this was all...fresh to him. Even three months or so later, he had to fall into habit; and because of that, V sensed a soft blush come upon him. “I think,” he admitted, “this is...just about what I can handle. Right now.” I would touch you more, but I don't know.

The hands on his back were supportive. He felt those thumbs stroke soothingly the thin fabric that separated skin from skin. Garrett spoke to V's insecurities directly, reiterating that V needn't do anything he wasn't ready for; that everything was just fine and would always be.

Maybe, if you touched me first...

Pallid lips pursed for a second, maybe less. V had something on his mind again. His arms slid just enough to have his hands clasp his beau's shoulders. This he was not afraid of doing (and he enjoyed the sensation that blessed his palms). Properly preternatural, that man was sculpted so delightfully. “But...I want to tell you,” the sorcerer continued, brave: “You're beautiful.”

The sentiment wasn't exclusive to figure, not to form or face. There was a kindness behind all of that. Sincerity, authenticity, generosity, and something undefinable which made a demon pure of heart. He was so, so careful with V, so thoughtful, so attentive. The sort of thing V knew nothing about—not in the flesh—until they both agreed that their love was mutual. “I don't mean only handsome. You're...more than I thought you'd be.” He minded himself almost painfully for Garrett's benefit, wanting the right words to speak, even the right way to move. The last thing V would have wanted to do was to screw things up. Such a feeling was mutual, he knew. Perhaps they were both so careful for that very reason—though V did not have wisdom on his side, and for that he was ever bashful and insecure.

“I think the same of you, swee'heart,” purred his fox.

V smiled at his smile, content, needing no more to say. They'd said so much already, anyway. He tugged on shoulders for proximity, allowing his mate to draw him nearer when he picked up the cue. Their lips met, softly.