[So transfixed is Liem as Set moves closer to him, as he settles his hands against his waist and reaches up to cradle Liem's face, that he almost doesn't hear the words spoken to him. His attention is absorbed wholly by the arrangement of their two bodies, by the shape of the negative space between them, by the places where they intersect; by the intent look on Set's handsome face, and the way his hair falls around him like a curtain as he leans in.
Liem is well familiar now with the warm desert scent of him and the feel of Set's bare skin beneath his hands, but he still manages to be surprised when that unfairly-soft mouth finds his. His breath escapes him gently, swallowed up by the chatter around them as he yields to the other man's kiss, unthinking. There is still too much space between them; Liem closes it, subsiding against him, cool fingers finding the warm plane of his back. And he kisses him, heedless for a long moment of anything else at all.
But they are still in the middle of the exit at a public theatre, and not even Liem's bone-deep desire to be held and kissed can sustain him for long in such a public place. He feels too many eyes on him, whether they are real or not. He feels too vulnerable and too observed. It takes only a single muttering patron passing behind him to make Liem peel himself from the god, wide-eyed and with that pale, bruise-like flush sitting high on his cheeks.
no subject
Liem is well familiar now with the warm desert scent of him and the feel of Set's bare skin beneath his hands, but he still manages to be surprised when that unfairly-soft mouth finds his. His breath escapes him gently, swallowed up by the chatter around them as he yields to the other man's kiss, unthinking. There is still too much space between them; Liem closes it, subsiding against him, cool fingers finding the warm plane of his back. And he kisses him, heedless for a long moment of anything else at all.
But they are still in the middle of the exit at a public theatre, and not even Liem's bone-deep desire to be held and kissed can sustain him for long in such a public place. He feels too many eyes on him, whether they are real or not. He feels too vulnerable and too observed. It takes only a single muttering patron passing behind him to make Liem peel himself from the god, wide-eyed and with that pale, bruise-like flush sitting high on his cheeks.
He says the first thing that comes to mind.]
W— we shouldn't loiter.